by Carys Jones
‘There’s a little bed and breakfast close by. The guy in the store recommended it when I paid for the petrol. Let’s book ourselves in, get some rest and then conduct a more thorough search for Will tomorrow.’
‘But what if he leaves while we’re sleeping?’
‘Look around.’ Shane gestured at the small streets beyond his windscreen that were lit by old-fashioned street lamps. ‘Will didn’t come here as part of a whistle-stop tour. He came here to hide. This place is in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like he could be scheduling himself a flight out of the country from here or anything.’
‘So you think he’ll still be here tomorrow?’
‘He better be,’ Shane drove forward, letting the satnav guide him to the nearby hotel. ‘I refuse to take my chances overnight with ogre Amanda.’
‘I am not an ogre.’
‘That’s exactly what an ogre would say.’
‘You’re so annoying,’ Amanda rubbed at her eyes, managing to smile despite how tired she was.
‘Be warned, I may have to book us in at the B&B and engage in conversation which will delay you getting into bed and being able to rest your grumpiness.’
‘You’re not funny.’
‘No, I’m hilarious.’
It was the comeback Shane always used to throw at her when they were playfully arguing beside one of their beachfront bonfires. Against the crackle and pop of the wood they’d taunt one another, John included. It was always in good humour, and as the fire died Shane would bundle Amanda up beside him in a blanket and they’d fall asleep side by side, their bodies intertwined so that you couldn’t tell where the one ended and the other began.
Amanda yawned sleepily. Sat in the car she felt that if she stretched out her hand she’d be able to feel the heat radiating off the bonfire, that if she strained to listen she’d hear the gentle rush of the nearby waves. Her eyes slid shut as a contented smile pulled on her lips.
*
If the satnav was still on she’d tell them they’d arrived at their destination, but Billy turned her off miles ago, citing his nerves couldn’t take her superior tone any longer.
Jake was driving again. He pulled the truck up into the dirt driveway which led towards the two warehouses. They were both made from sheets of corrugated metal and in the early morning light they looked almost alien. Climbing out, he dropped against the ground, a few tentative blades of dew-soaked grass getting crunched beneath his boots. He strode around to the back of the truck, preparing to throw open its doors, when something grabbed him, pulling him into the shadows.
‘What the fuck, man?’ Jake raged as he shook off his friend. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’
‘Sorry,’ Billy smoothed his hands down the front of his faded hoodie. His hands were shaking.
‘Seriously, you sure you’re not high?’ Jake demanded tersely.
‘I’m not high,’ Billy strained to keep his voice low. ‘But there’s something you need to know.’ He leaned away from Jake and looked into the shadows surrounding them. Then, coming back in close, he whispered; ‘We’re not selling this shit here today.’
‘We’re not?’
But that had been McAllister’s plan. The one he’d fervently insisted they carry out. The one he’d made threats about.
‘No,’ Billy shook his head, ‘we’re not. We’re going to buy some more shit and take this through the tunnel, into Europe and make some real fucking money.’
‘Jesus, Billy—’
‘We cut out the middle man, McAllister, and pocket the cash all for ourselves. We’ll give him the measly twenty-four grand he was going to give us.’
‘I don’t think it works that way.’
‘Just, trust me.’ Billy reached into the seam of his jeans and produced a pistol. Jake clocked its dark shape in the dim light and instantly recoiled.
‘What the fuck is that for?’ He stared at the gun as though it were a bomb which might go off at any given second.
‘Just… take it,’ Billy forced the gun into Jake’s hands. ‘I’ve got one too. Consider it insurance.’
‘Billy—’
‘I’m looking out for us on this, Jake. Don’t I always look out for us?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Just follow my lead. Okay?’
Jake was silent.
‘We’ve got this, Jake. After today, we’ll live like kings. Trust me.’
Those were the last words Billy ever said to him.
19
‘Morning sunshine.’
The male voice pulled Amanda out of her dream. She sat up in a bed that wasn’t her own in a room she didn’t recognize. The walls were covered in faded floral wallpaper, the threadbare curtains open to reveal a glorious blue sky and beneath it a collection of grey buildings with slanted slate roofs. Amanda rubbed her eyes and looked down at the duvet she was currently huddled beneath. It bore the same design as the walls; roses on the vine stretching endlessly along the fabric. Each petal and leaf dulled by steady use over a considerable amount of years.
‘You sleep okay?’ Shane was on the other side of the room, watching her with interest. His hair was damp and his eyes bright.
‘I… um,’ Amanda glanced at the bed. The far side of it was unmade, the sheets still tucked in tightly to the mattress.
‘I slept in the chair,’ Shane nodded towards a pink bucket chair in the corner which had probably once been a brilliant shade of red.
‘You did?’ Amanda wondered groggily.
‘I thought I was being a gentleman,’ Shane pushed his hands through his hair, shaking out the remaining droplets of water. ‘I tried to get two rooms but when only one was available I had to settle for us sharing. I considered sleeping in my car but figured you wouldn’t mind me sleeping in the chair.’
Amanda smiled thinly, remembering all too well a time when she and Shane would share a bed, would sleep side by side. He used to always tuck her up in his arms like a child cradling their favourite stuffed toy. He’d hold her tight until they both drifted off to sleep and inevitably rolled over to their own side of the bed.
‘Did you sleep all right in it?’ the chair looked far from comfortable. It had a rigid back and armrests worn away to reveal the wood beneath them.
‘Better than I would have in the bed,’ Shane laughed. Amanda froze, wondering what he meant. ‘You thrashed about a lot,’ he swiftly explained before she could dwell on the meaning of his comment. ‘I guess you were having nightmares.’
The cliff. The drop. Her air catching in her lungs. Amanda sighed and closed her eyes. The dream had been so close, so real. She could taste the salt in the air.
‘It still bothers you, huh?’ Shane carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. He used to hold Amanda during the darkest hours of the night, whispering to her that everything was okay, that it was just a nightmare.
‘Sometimes,’ she told him a little too briskly as she climbed out of bed. ‘But they’re just dreams.’
‘There’s power in dreams, Amanda,’ he called after her as she headed into the bathroom.
*
It was hot in Dunbroch. Much hotter than it had been back in Tremwell Bay. The residents of the small Scottish town were in the midst of a heatwave. Though there was an electricity in the air which hinted that there were storms on the not too distant horizon.
Even in her denim cut-offs and lace tunic top Amanda felt overdressed. Squinting against the early morning sun, she wished she’d taken the time to pack some sunglasses. But everything had been done in such haste.
‘So what now?’ she turned to Shane as they stepped out of the bed and breakfast and on to the small street outside which steeply led up towards the centre of town.
Shane was in the same shirt and trousers as the previous day. Shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, he peered up the street. ‘We need to go in some of the local shops, ask if anyone has seen Will.’
Amanda nodded and chewed her lip thoughtfully. She kept hoping that her pho
ne would come to life with a new alert, that she’d be given another positive ID of Will somewhere specific. But no matter how much she repeatedly checked her phone and laptop no new information came through. The town they were in was so rustic there wasn’t a CCTV camera in sight. And there were a lot of tourists. They were already floating up the street in their large sun hats clutching their digital cameras. Will was hardly going to stand out in a town that was accustomed to harbouring strangers.
‘Do you even think he’s still here?’ Amanda wondered despondently.
‘It’s the only lead we’ve got,’ Shane shrugged as he began making his way up the steep street.
*
Two hours later and Amanda was fast approaching her limit. Her limbs were on fire thanks to the burning sun and the steep streets. And each time she entered a shop there was no respite from the stifling heat since nowhere had air conditioning. It felt like walking around in a permanent furnace.
‘I’m so nearly done with this,’ she panted as she kept pace with Shane. In each shop it was the same story; Amanda would present her phone and the image of her and Will on their wedding day. People would frown, throw her a bemused look and she knew what they were all thinking – what kind of person has to hunt down their husband? Some people even gave her a pitying look as they studied her, as if she was just in denial and needed to accept that her husband had left her.
In the darkened depths of pubs the regulars would gaze sadly at Amanda over their glasses of whisky and tell her she was wasting her time, that a pretty girl like her should be off living her life.
‘We’ve just got a few more places left to check,’ Shane guided her into a small bakery. He refused to be discouraged by their lack of success. The window display was full of cakes and pastries which were all glossed with a sugary coating. Amanda’s stomach growled as she studied an egg custard and its perfect yellow surface.
Shane went in first and pulled his cop routine to ensure compliance from the shopkeeper. There was nothing like a police presence to bring out people’s most honest natures. Amanda had no idea what he was even saying. She just waited until he gestured for her and then raised her phone up to whoever was being questioned.
In the bakery it was an elderly woman with impressively dark hair which was gathered at the nape of her neck in a loose-fitting bun. She reached for a pair of tortoiseshell reading glasses when Amanda offered her the phone. Taking the device in her leathery hands, she studied the image, her old eyes squinting.
‘You seen him before?’ Shane prompted her response. The old woman pursed her thin lips and began to nod.
‘Yes,’ she tapped Will’s face with a long nail. ‘Yes.’
Amanda’s heart danced in her chest as she heard the word yes. It was the first positive response she’d had all day.
‘What? Have you seen him?’ she immediately fired her questions at the old woman who merely nodded patiently at the couple.
‘I’ve seen him,’ the woman confirmed coolly.
‘What, where?’ Amanda was barely holding herself together. She wanted to reach across the counter, grab the woman and shake all the information out of her. Thankfully, Shane was much more restrained.
‘Can you tell us when you saw him?’ he wondered politely.
‘Yesterday. Such a tall fella, hard to forget.’
‘That’s him,’ Amanda slapped her hands down against the counter. ‘Did he say where he was going? Why he was here? Who was he with?’
Shane reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, urging her to calm down.
‘Do you think he’s still in town?’ he asked the woman levelly.
‘Should think so,’ she nodded, pursing her thin lips. ‘Mrs Morris said he’s renting a holiday cottage just outside of Dunbroch. Lovely little place. So close to the sea.’
‘A holiday cottage?’ Amanda gasped, stepping back from the counter. Questions sprinted through her mind. Why a holiday cottage? Had Will up and left her to go on an impromptu vacation? But that made no sense. She swallowed and forced out the question she feared to ask. ‘Was he alone when you saw him?’
To her relief the old woman nodded. ‘He was alone, yes.’
Then what the hell? Amanda stormed out of the bakery and began retracing her steps back to the bed and breakfast. She could hear Shane chasing after her as she lamented to herself; ‘Why is he holed up in some cottage on his own? I’ve got to go and see him.’ She was almost running when Shane grabbed her wrists and forced her to halt.
‘We need to think this through,’ he said stoically.
‘What’s to think about?’ Amanda shook herself free from his grip and continued powering down the street. ‘He’s my husband,’ she called back over her shoulder, ‘I’ve got to go to him.’
*
‘I’m not going over this again,’ Amanda declared as she checked her reflection in the small mirror in the car’s visor.
‘Amanda, I just—’
‘I told you I’m going alone.’ When she was sure that her hair looked as good as it was going to she snapped the visor back up and peered beyond the windscreen at the field of long grass which swayed gently in a pleasant breeze.
‘It’s not a good idea,’ Shane told her, sounding like the cop he was back home. ‘The situation might be dangerous.’
‘How?’ Amanda demanded. ‘He’s my husband for Christ’s sake and he’s holed up in some little holiday cottage in the south of Scotland. That hardly sounds like dangerous behaviour to me.’
‘He’s not who he says he is,’ Shane continued, undeterred. ‘He’s a criminal, Amanda. And I only know about the crimes he got caught for. What about other things he may have done? We still don’t know why Jake Burton was reported as dead. Think about what he might be running from, you don’t want to get embroiled in all this.’
‘Whatever his reason for being here, it won’t suddenly make us unmarried.’ Amanda was watching the long grass sway as if dancing to music that only the vegetation around the car could hear. The B&B and Dunbroch were twenty minutes behind them and they were sat parked up at the edge of a field. They decided not to take the car any closer. The rest of the journey towards the holiday cottage would have to be made on foot. And Amanda wasn’t looking for company. The woman at the bakery had been certain that it was the southernmost cottage in town that Will, Jake, had rented.
Amanda had to hope that the old woman was right, that she hadn’t guided them towards a cottage full of a happy family spending their holiday by the sea.
‘He lied about his name, what else might he have lied about?’ Shane’s question pulled her out of her own thoughts.
‘I won’t know unless I ask him.’ Amanda moved to open the car door, but Shane tugged her back, just as he had been doing for the past fifteen minutes.
‘Let me go inside,’ he pleaded.
‘Because he’d be so receptive to that; my ex-boyfriend showing up,’ Amanda rolled her eyes.
‘Amanda—’
‘Please, just let me handle this. Despite all the lies, I do know him, Shane.’
‘It’s not safe, at least let me call for some back-up from the local authorities.’
‘And treat him like a common criminal when he’s done nothing wrong?’ Amanda’s cheeks flushed with outrage. The picturesque town wasn’t the backdrop for a criminal in hiding. Amanda felt her guard. Will was still her oak tree, her port in a storm. And as soon as she saw him he’d explain everything.
‘He left you!’ Shane smacked his hands against the steering wheel. ‘And he is a bloody criminal. At least Jake Burton is. He left you without saying a damned word, knowing he risked breaking your heart. How could he just up and leave you like that?’
‘You tell me,’ Amanda countered coolly. As close as she’d got to Shane over the last two weeks and as good as it’d felt to reconnect, she couldn’t forget that their love story had ultimately had an unhappy ending. Exhausted by the countless battles they kept fighting in the war that was their relationship they�
�d both simply surrendered and walked away. It was a decision Amanda often found herself regretting in the small hours of the night when she’d been woken by a nightmare. But she locked those feelings away because she knew no good would come of them.
‘Regret makes you weak,’ Corrine had said after Ivor’s death. Amanda kept asking her mother to take down pictures of her beloved father which were all around the house. Each time she cast her eyes on one, it was like taking a bullet. But Corrine refused.
‘To take them down would be saying that I don’t want to remember. That I have regrets.’
‘But it hurts to see him,’ Amanda had wept.
‘As much as it hurts me too, it warms my heart at the same time,’ Corrine had tenderly traced a finger down a picture of the little family out on the beach the previous summer. The image was all smiles and sunshine, there was no heavy cloud on the horizon foretelling the dark hand fate would soon deal them. ‘I loved your father deeply and I regret nothing. I want to look around and see his face every day. It helps keep him alive.’
Amanda wrestled her mobile phone out of her pocket and looked at the picture which she’d been brandishing around town. She and Will looked so happy, like one of those irritatingly perfect couples you see advertising summer vacations. She was wrapped up in Will’s strong embrace, gazing into the camera.
‘I need to know the truth and I need to hear it directly from him,’ she said quietly as she kept staring at the face of her husband who was in very real danger of becoming a stranger to her.
‘Just let me go with you. I’ll—’
‘No.’ Amanda cut Shane off. ‘You’ve seriously done enough, Shane. More than enough. You’ve risked your job to help me. I’m not going to forget that. But I need to do this alone, surely you understand?’
Shane wasn’t looking at her, he was staring ahead as if mesmerized by the long grass in the field.
‘Go back to the B&B and wait for me there.’ Amanda opened her door. Warm afternoon air danced up her bare legs. When Shane made no signs of objection, she climbed out fully and stood up beside the car, peering out across the field. From where she was standing she could just make out the distant roof of a small building. The patter of her heartbeat sped up as she considered how close she was to being reunited with Will. How close she was to meeting Jake Burton.
