by Sue Fortin
Andrea screams. Her arms flail like a windmill as she tries to reach out to me. I lunge for her but my gloves can’t get any purchase on her nylon padded jacket. The fabric slips through my fingers.
The look on Andrea’s face is one of pure terror. She falls backwards and it is all I can do to stop myself falling after her. She screams again, this time longer and louder. More fearful.
I watch her plummet down the gulley, wincing as her head narrowly avoids hitting one of the many rocks along the way. Her feet fly up in the air and her arms and legs go in different directions as she tumbles backwards over the rocky hillside, gathering speed with each somersault. Then she is thrown to the side and disappears into some bushes.
‘Andrea! Andrea!’ I shout. ‘Can you hear me? Are you OK?’ It’s a ridiculous question; how can she possibly be OK after a fall like that?
I peer into the gulley. I might be able to get down there, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to scramble up again. Not without a rope and some chocks to wedge between the rocks for anchor points. The last thing I want is for both of us to be stuck down there. I call to Andrea again.
This time I hear a faint groan.
‘Carys …’
The voice is weak but at least she is alive. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘I can’t move. I think I’ve broken my ankle.’
‘OK, erm …’ My mind goes blank and it takes a moment before I can think straight. ‘I’m going to head to the croft, get some rope and something to make a brace with for your leg.’ I listen for a response. ‘Andrea? Can you hear me?’
‘Yes! Hurry up, my ankle is killing me.’
Before I leave, I look around for something to mark the spot where Andrea is. It might be difficult to remember the exact place when I return. I sprint over to the edge of the forest on the other side of the track and scan the area for a branch large enough to stick in the ground.
Eventually I find something suitable and push the stake into the rain-softened edge. To make certain I don’t miss this marker when I come back, I pull out the foil blanket from my rucksack and use my penknife to rip off a length, which I fasten around the stick.
Happy that I’ll be able to find the spot again, I shout reassurances down to Andrea before setting off at a run in the direction of the croft. I check my watch and estimate how long we had been walking and guess it will probably take me ten to fifteen minutes to get back. I’m used to cross-country running, but in hiking boots it’s proving more taxing.
It’s actually twelve minutes by the time I reach the croft. I’m about to hammer on the door when I realise it’s ajar. I stop in my tracks, my hand stilled in mid-air. Zoe said she was going to lock the door. It was a condition of us leaving her here. I listen for any sound of life. I can hear angry voices coming from inside. One female and one male.
My heart hammers against my breastbone from the nervous energy coursing inside me. I push the door open and step on to the coir mat, the bristles folding under my weight. I can hear clearly now.
At first I think I must be imagining things. It’s definitely Zoe’s voice but the male voice sounds remarkably like Tris. As I listen more, I realise it is.
‘Why didn’t you stop them?’ he’s asking.
‘I couldn’t. Carys was adamant she was going. Andrea too. I thought if I at least stayed here—’
‘Where did they say they were going?’
‘I can’t remember the name, but it’s a town about fifteen miles away. Joanne pointed it out to Carys when we were up at Arrow’s Head.’
‘Gormston.’ Tris lets out a sigh. ‘What to do now?’
I can hear Zoe sniff. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says.
‘Hey, sweetheart, it’s OK. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just the idea of those two going walkabout – it’s dangerous.’
There’s a pause in the conversation and I lean into the hallway further, not wanting to step on to the tile floor in case they hear me. I can see them through the crack in the doorframe. Tris has his arms around Zoe, comforting her. I watch as she looks up at him and then they kiss. A full-on kiss.
I manage to hold in my breath of surprise. So it’s true. Zoe and Tris are having an affair. Joanne was right.
Lost in my thoughts, I nearly miss the pinging sound that comes from the living room. It sounds like a text message alert. I watch Tris and Zoe pull apart and then Tris take a mobile phone from his pocket. I’m confused. This is supposed to be a not-spot for mobile phones. I curse Joanne under my breath for lying to us. Tris swipes at the screen and reads the message. He pauses and then leans in to whisper something in Zoe’s ear. Whatever he’s told her, it’s unnerved her. She looks over to the door, a worried expression on her face. I dip out of sight.
Then Tris is coming out into the hallway. I don’t have time to dive outside. I have to think fast.
‘Oh my God, Tris!’ I say, injecting as much surprise as possible into my voice. I close the front door behind me. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Carys! You’re back. Thank goodness,’ he says, coming towards me and giving me a hug. ‘Zoe was telling me about your crazy idea about walking off to get help.’
He ushers me into the living room. I look at Zoe, who is standing in front of the fireplace now, her hands clasped together and her eyes darting from me and then to Tris. Has she told him about Joanne? He’s not exactly acting like a grief-stricken husband. Despite the fact he’s obviously been having an affair, he must surely have had some feelings for Joanne.
‘Carys, are you OK?’ says Zoe, suddenly springing into life. She limps towards me, takes my arm and leads me to the sofa. ‘Tris has only just got here.’
I look up at Tris. ‘What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘It seems I’ve caught everyone by surprise,’ he says. ‘Zoe wasn’t expecting me either, but Joanne asked me to come. We arranged it all beforehand.’
Again, I look at Zoe. She’s very nervous and goes to speak but changes her mind. I look at Tris. ‘Has Zoe told you …?’ I leave the sentence unfinished. If he knows, then I don’t need to say any more.
Tris dips his head and spreads his thumb and forefinger across his eyes. I watch him draw a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He continues to look down and gives a nod. ‘Yes. Zoe just told me.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say. I stand and go to move towards him, but change my mind. This feels so awkward. I remember immediately after Darren had died, all I wanted was to be held and take comfort from caring human contact, but Tris appears to have got himself under control.
And then I remember why I’m here: Andrea is lying injured down a gorge. But before I can say anything, Zoe pre-empts me.
‘What are you doing back? Where’s Andrea?’
‘There’s been an accident. Andrea’s fallen down a hillside and hurt herself. She thinks she’s broken her ankle.’
‘Oh, no! Not her too. Well, mine’s not broken, but you know what I mean.’ Zoe grimaces in the direction of her foot.
I dismiss the passing thought that Zoe doesn’t seem too bothered about her injury; I’m more worried about Andrea right now. ‘I need a rope so I can abseil down to her and try to get her out of there.’
‘Whereabouts is she?’ asks Zoe. ‘You haven’t been gone that long.’
‘About fifteen minutes down the track. I’ve put a marker there so I’ll know where to find her.’ The panic and urgency that was momentarily on hold returns. ‘There’s a climbing rope. I saw it yesterday.’ I am in mid-turn when I stop and look at Tris. ‘Wait a minute. How did you get here? By car? You can drive us down there.’
It’s at this point I realise I can’t recall seeing a car outside when I ran up the track to the croft. I look out of the window and then at Tris. He’s stopped crying now and fixes me with a gaze I can’t read.
All my senses heighten at once. A primeval instinct tells me that I am surrounded by danger. I clench my fists as a sense of fight or flight takes hold. I don’t understan
d my physical reactions; my brain isn’t up to speed with my senses.
‘The car’s parked down the track,’ says Tris. ‘There was a landslide. I walked the last bit.’
‘Oh, right.’ I can’t see how this can be true. If he’d walked up the track, then Andrea and I would have seen him. I edge a few steps in the direction of the door. ‘Well … er … I’ll get the rope and we can rescue Andrea.’
I’ve never felt a silence so stifling and oppressive. The air pressure in the room is suffocating.
‘Good idea,’ says Tris. ‘You get the rope from outside.’
The blood pumps a little faster through my veins. He knows where the rope is. Or is it a random guess? I fight to appear calm and hope any anxiety Tris might detect in me will be passed off as distress over Andrea. ‘I’m worried about Andrea,’ I say, in a bid to reinforce this idea. I look at Zoe. ‘Want to give me a hand?’ I will Zoe to take the hint and come outside with me. There’s something going on that I’m missing. The atmosphere in the room intensifies even more as I wait, for what seems like an age, for Zoe to answer.
‘She can’t,’ says Tris, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘She’s got a bad ankle, remember?’
Zoe’s eyes widen and although I know she is trying to tell me something, I can’t read her expression. She attempts to mouth a word at me. I can’t be sure what she’s trying to say. Run? Is she telling me to run?
Fear peaks within me and my skin feels clammy. Another glance at Zoe and this time there is no mistaking the silent words she mouths.
Get help.
‘It’s OK, I can manage,’ I say. Without waiting for a response, I cross the hallway and head through the dining room into the kitchen, pushing the internal door closed behind me.
The walkie-talkie is on the worktop and I swipe it up without breaking stride. Hurrying out of the unlocked door, I step out on to the patio and turn on the power. The handset crackles into life. I don’t waste any time transmitting a message.
‘Hello? I need to speak to the park ranger. Are you there?’ I’m met with silence. Going over to where I’d thrown the rope, I pull it out with my free hand. All the time trying to get a response from the park ranger. ‘Hello. Please? Anybody?’
The rope pools at my feet and I stoop to gather it up. As I stand, I happen to look down the garden and spy the wheel of a pushbike sticking out from behind the shed.
I know for certain the bike wasn’t there before. An image of the tyre print in the mud flashes in front of me.
‘Hello. Can anyone hear me?’ I speak desperately into the handset for a third time.
And then I hear the unmistakable Scottish accent of the park ranger, except he is not on the other end of the handset, he is right behind me. A feeling of relief floods through me. It must be the ranger’s bike. He’s come to see if we’re OK.
I turn and my hand falls limply to my side. Tris is standing there. A small smile of amusement playing on his lips. ‘Aye, I can hear you,’ he says. ‘Over.’
Chapter 23
Tris is holding a walkie-talkie in the air with a smug look on his face.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask, trying to keep the nerves from showing in my voice.
The smile drops from his mouth. ‘Nothing. It was a joke,’ he says, moving a step closer. I match this by taking a step away. He looks beyond me at the shed and back again. A shiver runs through me, not from the cold air but from the detached look in his eyes.
‘You and Zoe – I don’t care what’s going on between you two,’ I say. ‘It’s none of my business. I don’t even care that you’re here. All I want is to rescue Andrea.’ I hoist the coil of rope on to my shoulder. ‘You understand, don’t you?’
He nods. ‘I do. Of course I understand. Look, Joanne asked me to come up here. She gave me the walkie-talkie and said I was to pretend to be the park ranger if anyone made the call.’
‘Why? Why would she ask you to do that?’
‘She said it was a joke. She was going to play a trick on you all. I didn’t know what she had planned. She told me I didn’t need to know, my job was to come up here with my walkie-talkie at the ready and not to overreact to anything that was said. When you said there’d been a death … fuck, I thought it was all part of the game.’
Something about Tris’s story isn’t sitting right with me. It doesn’t make sense. Then again, I don’t know what Joanne had planned for us. Do I trust Tris, or do I go with my gut instinct? Countless thoughts jostle their way to the front of my mind, each demanding attention, but before I can settle on an answer, it’s barged away by another.
Tris and Zoe are having an affair. That I’m sure about, but I don’t know what the implications are. Did Joanne really ask Tris up here, or has he come because of Zoe? And why is Zoe telling me to get help? Something’s wrong, it must be. Why else would Zoe be too scared to speak out loud?
Tris’s eyes flick towards the rope on my shoulder and the noose which dangles near my knees.
‘You’re not going to do anything stupid with that rope, are you?’ he asks.
‘What?’
‘I couldn’t bear it if … well, you know … what happened to Darren … Joanne didn’t tell you that story about mothers sacrificing themselves up in the woods, did she?’
My stomach lurches as I get what he’s implying. Does he think I’m going to take my own life? The next thought knocks the air from my lungs. My natural reaction is to dismiss it, but I can’t. Has Tris his own agenda in all this? Every fibre in my body is on high alert.
‘I don’t know what’s going on here, Tris,’ I say, surprising myself at how calm I sound when, inwardly, the panic is building. ‘But I need to help Andrea. Whatever game you think Joanne was playing, it’s over now. This is no game. This is serious.’
I take a few seconds to contemplate my next move. I need the rope to rescue Andrea but it’s heavy and I won’t be able to out-run Tris if I’m weighed down. He’s pretty fit from all the 10K running he does, but I think I might stand a chance of beating him over cross-country terrain. He’s used to the flat even surface of the road. If I can get a good head start, I might be able to do it.
In the next second, I can barely believe I’m thinking like this. It seems so surreal. Tris is scaring me. I think of Zoe in the croft. I’m uncertain where her loyalties lie. From what I saw earlier, I don’t think she’s in any danger from Tris, but with her ankle injury, there’s no way I can take her with me. It’s down to me and me alone to get help.
‘Carys, you look terrified,’ says Tris. He stretches out a hand to me. ‘Don’t be silly. You don’t have to be frightened of me. I’m here to help you all.’
I take a step away. ‘Why are you here? Was it to see Joanne, or to see Zoe?’
‘I told you, Joanne asked me to come.’
‘When did you see Joanne?’
‘Carys, I don’t know what all this is about—’
‘When did you last see Joanne?’ I insist.
‘Wait a minute … are you asking what I think you are?’ Tris gives a small laugh of disbelief. ‘No. You can’t be. You’re not seriously asking me if I had anything to do with Joanne’s accident, are you?’
I glance towards the shed. ‘You’re having an affair with Zoe,’ I blurt out.
‘That doesn’t make me a murderer. Besides, Joanne fell. It was an accident.’
‘You seem very sure about that.’
‘I would never hurt Joanne. You’re not thinking straight, Carys. It’s OK, I understand, or at least I have some idea. I remember how difficult it was for you, finding Darren dead. So finding Joanne like that was bound to mess with your mind.’
‘That’s a cheap shot,’ I snap. ‘Anyone who finds their husband hanging is going to have a hard time dealing with it, but that doesn’t mean I’m unstable now.’
‘I didn’t say unstable, I meant you would find this sort of thing particularly difficult. It’s no wonder it’s clouded your judgement. For Christ sake, I’ve lost my wife –
whatever is go-ing on between me and Zoe doesn’t dilute that in the slightest.’
I almost believe him. Almost. ‘I need to go,’ I say, but still I hesitate, debating whether to sidestep Tris and run straight out of here. Will he let me? Can I take the risk?
But Tris isn’t ready to end the conversation. As if anticipating my next move, he positions himself so he’s blocking my path. ‘From what I can tell, you had the motive,’ he says. ‘You know Joanne was pissed off with all of you. Andrea for the business deal. Zoe for having an affair with me, and you for what happened between Ruby and Darren.’
‘Nothing happened.’
‘That’s academic now. What matters is that Joanne believed it.’
‘I don’t understand where all this has come from. We sorted it out between us. You and Joanne agreed it was nothing more than a teenage crush. A student smitten with her tutor. It happens.’
‘Joanne said she had a surprise for you. She never told me what it was, but I got the impression she had recently found out something about you.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. She didn’t want to say.’ He runs his hand through his hair. ‘You know Ruby was devastated by what happened. Imagine how it must have felt for Joanne and me as parents, left wondering if their daughter had been seduced by her tutor, a man she thought she could trust? She was utterly heartbroken when he killed himself. And then, the final icing on the cake, your son and our daughter start to get closer and closer. Now she’s got a thing for the son of the man who did this to her! Imagine how we felt when she told us. It’s totally mind-fucking, Carys. Surely you can see that.’
Tris has a point. It’s been hard for us all to get our heads around the fallout from one teenage girl’s crush on an older man. I avoid eye contact with Tris, not wanting him to see the truth in my eyes.
‘I don’t know what to say.’ I feel the weight of the past two years bear down heavy on my shoulders. Darren had promised me it was nothing more than a teenager with a crush and I had believed him then.
I had believed him then.
I glance up at Tris and meet his gaze, which momentarily paralyses me. He tilts his head to one side. ‘What is it, Carys?’
