by Tom Bale
‘Nobody knows.’
‘You’re kidding?’
Ellie laughed softly, the sound echoing around them. Realising they were alone down here made Joe feel even more privileged.
‘The whole thing is a mystery. Nobody has a clue who made it, or when, or why.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it before.’
‘I’m glad, in a way. I don’t want to see it overrun, or Disneyfied. It’s too precious.’ She followed him as he moved from panel to panel. ‘It would have looked even more spectacular when it was created. The colours have faded a lot over the centuries.’
‘So what’s the history? How many centuries?’
‘It’s anyone’s guess. This wasn’t discovered until 1835. There are caves and tunnels all round here. It was smugglers who found this. They broke through one of the antechambers and then excavated up through the dome. The hole at the top had been plugged by earth and rock. Now it’s covered with perspex.’
She gestured at the walls. ‘There’s said to be over four million shells here. Even with a team of people, you’re talking about a huge task: excavating the cavern, shaping it, then meticulously gathering and transporting the shells here. And they had to be stuck to the wall while they were alive, apparently. But prior to the discovery there wasn’t a single clue to its existence. No gossip, no local legends, nothing.’
Joe shook his head. ‘That doesn’t make sense. Can’t they test the shells?’
‘They tried carbon dating, but the Victorian lamps have coated everything in soot, so the results were meaningless.’ She laughed again, with a child’s delight. ‘Scientists analysed the glue and drew a blank. It contains elements that can’t be identified. They just don’t know how it was done.’
With a sigh of rapture, Ellie gazed at the column of light in the centre of the room. ‘We could be standing in a temple that pre-dates Stonehenge or Avebury. Built by a civilisation we know absolutely nothing about.’
Joe grinned. This was an utterly different Ellie, brimming with infectious enthusiasm and light years from the cool, acerbic persona he’d encountered before.
Slowly they explored the cavern. One of the antechambers had an alcove with what looked like an altar set into it. Ellie explained some of the theories about the sort of worship that might have been conducted here. One involved a solar calendar, with certain panels illuminated on the spring equinox and summer solstice.
‘But it’s all guesswork. They used radar on the walls and found hollow spaces behind the panels. But no one can countenance breaking through to find out what’s in there.’ Wistful for a moment, she smiled. ‘I’m really glad you feel it too. The sense of wonder.’
‘I don’t see how you could fail to.’
‘Oh, I know people who’d see this and think: a cave full of shells – so what?’ She snorted at some private recollection. ‘For me, this is a reminder that we don’t have all the answers.’
‘I’ve never been in any doubt about that.’
‘Not you specifically. Human beings. We assume we’re smarter than the people who went before us, because they lived in caves and wore animal skins, and we have central heating and iPads and hedge funds. The fact is, we don’t have a clue what other civilisations might have flourished, thousands of years before us, and thrived to an extent we can only dream of. The people who built this might have been incredibly advanced, running happy, sustainable communities where people were healthy and looked after each other, worked hard but also had plenty of leisure time. To me, the Shell Cavern is like a hint, a clue to what our shiny modern world has lost.’
Ellie signalled the end of her speech with an awkward shrug.
Joe smiled. ‘Phew.’
‘Is that all you can say?’
‘It’s a very persuasive argument. But I would maintain that human beings are basically the same now as they’ve been for millennia. Some brilliant, inventive, compassionate; others mean and selfish and cruel. The essential struggle is between those opposing forces. Sometimes those forces exist within the same person.’
Energised by the debate, Ellie briefly rested her hand on his arm. ‘Ah, but I’m an optimist, you see. I choose to believe that the ideal society can be achieved.’
Joe thought of Giles Quinton-Price, all set to proclaim that Leon Race had succeeded where many others had failed; never mind the methods by which that success had been achieved. He shivered.
‘There are people who think Trelennan is pretty close to perfect.’
‘They’re wrong,’ Ellie said. ‘In fact, they couldn’t be further from the truth.’
‘Really?’ He felt very cold. Had the lights just flickered, or was it his vision playing up?
The magnificence of the shells had caused him to forget where he was. Now he imagined the stone walls closing in on him, the weight of all that earth and rock pressing down, a voice in his head screaming: You’re in a cave. You’re trapped.
Ellie was talking. Joe had to make a physical effort to tune in: ‘… easier to make things look fine on the surface. I shouldn’t say that, but it’s true.’
She had drifted away a little, and when she turned back her lips were still moving but he couldn’t hear a word over the sudden roaring in his ears. The light was wrong, too, brighter for a moment, then rapidly dimming. The floor tilted and he stumbled and then it went completely dark.
Thirty-Five
LESS THAN FIVE minutes till the phone rang again. Leon picked it up but said nothing.
‘Mr Race? I don’t want to be wasting my time here. The fact is, I know a lot more than just who he is. But if you don’t have him, it’s hardly worth my while—’
‘I know where he can be found.’ Leon’s voice was like flint. ‘I also know he’s on the run.’
A hesitation at the other end. Stolen your thunder, Leon thought. Then came the wheezy laugh.
‘But who from? That’s the nub. Who from, eh?’ The man let the question hang for a couple of seconds. ‘What are you going to offer me?’
‘Ten grand,’ Leon said. ‘Paid once we know the information’s good.’
‘Make it a hundred thousand, and you’re still getting a bargain. Cash, in used notes.’
Leon looked at Fenton, who was tight-lipped, shaking his head. Fat lot of use, Leon thought.
He said, ‘Why don’t we meet up, discuss this face to face?’
‘Hmm. I gotta think about that. Trouble is, Mr Race, I don’t trust you.’ Cackling, he rang off.
Leon threw the handset down in disgust. ‘Wanker.’
‘We know him,’ Fenton said.
‘What?’
‘His voice is familiar. That’s why he’s being so cagey. We know him from somewhere.’
Leon made a growling noise: neither agreeing nor disagreeing. ‘If he’s stringing me along, he’s fucking dead.’ He thought for a moment, shook his head. ‘Nah. He’s a dead man, anyway, talking to me like that.’
Danny Morton was hunting him, or was it Leon Race? Now they had him cornered, underground, in the dark. The roaring noise must be the river. He pictured the cave, inundated with water, and felt panic crushing his chest. Someone cried out and he realised he wasn’t alone down here—
Joe’s eyes opened. He was sitting on the stone floor of the cavern. Ellie knelt at his side, one hand on his brow, the other feeling for a pulse.
‘I’m okay. I’m okay.’ He tried to get up but she held him back.
‘Just rest for a minute.’ She looked mortified. ‘I’m so sorry. You told me you had a problem with confined spaces, and I didn’t take it seriously.’
‘I’m not sure if it was that.’ Joe blinked a few times, chasing the nightmare into shadows. ‘I don’t know what it was.’
‘We’d better go.’
Ignoring his protests that he could stand unaided, she helped him up, making him feel feeble and embarrassed. His head spun a little, but otherwise there seemed to be no after-effects.
Maybe it had been claustrophob
ia, or a panic attack. But why hadn’t it affected him sooner? As they slowly climbed the steps, Ellie put forward an explanation.
‘It was me, waffling on. You got so bored you keeled over. Wouldn’t be the first time I had that effect on a man.’
Joe chuckled. ‘I was very impressed. I saw a whole different side of you.’ She looked blank, and he added: ‘You weren’t taking the piss out of everything.’
‘Actually, you’re right. That is a bit worrying …’
They left the visitor centre and strolled along the path. The rain had stopped, but low cloud still clung to the hillside. Joe was thinking back over the conversation they’d had: perfect societies. The contrast between the surface appearance and the reality beneath.
‘I met Leon Race yesterday,’ he told her. ‘He’s offered me some casual work.’
‘Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. So what did you make of him?’
‘I’m reserving judgement on that for now. But I’ve accepted the offer.’
‘And how did your landlady react to the news?’
Now it was Joe’s turn to be surprised. ‘She seemed okay with it. Why?’
‘Nothing.’ Ellie concentrated on her bag, hunting for her keys.
‘Are Leon and Diana enemies?’
‘Oh no. It’s not that.’ She felt his gaze, saw he wasn’t going to let the subject drop. ‘I don’t think Leon was all that keen on Diana’s husband. Ancient history now.’
‘Maybe, but I’d like to know. Roy was a good friend of mine. A mentor, really.’
A small smile from Ellie. ‘You’re a policeman?’
‘I was. I left a few years ago. Why the amusement?’
‘It explains a few things. Like why you’re itching to help search for Alise’s sister.’
Joe couldn’t deny it. Nodding, he said, ‘So what about Leon and Roy …?’
‘When Roy and Diana moved here Leon hadn’t been in business for long, but his reputation was already well established. You didn’t cross him. I suppose Roy, as a retired copper, didn’t take kindly to that.’
‘Knowing Roy, that doesn’t surprise me. Did he make trouble for Leon?’
‘Possibly. I honestly don’t know.’
Joe frowned. ‘You’re saying there was this bad feeling, and yet Diana told me that her new boyfriend works for Leon.’
‘Hardly new,’ Ellie said, the familiar sarcasm back in place. ‘They’ve been together for years.’
‘Have they? I got the impression it was fairly recent.’
Ellie shook her head, correcting his assumption while also dismissing the subject.
‘Let’s talk about the mess you’re getting into. Off to work for Leon Race, and at the same time you’re clearly on Alise’s side. You know that’s asking for trouble?’ She looked deep into his eyes. ‘You don’t mind that at all, do you? In fact, I suspect you welcome it.’
Joe smiled. ‘Are you always this perceptive?’
‘Sadly, no.’ Her sudden bitterness caught him unawares. ‘But I’m working on it.’
He declined her offer of a lift home, said he had some shopping to do. When they exchanged mobile numbers, Ellie muttered, ‘Not that you’ll be in any hurry to see me again after this.’
‘Don’t be too sure. I choose the venue, though?’
‘Above ground, presumably?’
‘Definitely. No more caves for a while.’
Then an awkward moment, neither of them sure whether to kiss, shake hands, or refrain from contact altogether. Ellie decided for them by turning away. Joe started to walk, raising a hand in farewell as she drove past, and reflected on the wisdom she had shown.
Asking for trouble.
Thirty-Six
HE CALLED IN at Gwynn’s on his way home. The greengrocer’s was in a key corner spot on the High Street: ample space for the trestle tables groaning with fresh fruit and vegetables.
Reckless devil that he was, Joe picked up a couple of peaches and carried them inside. The till was staffed by a young woman, plump and curvy, with white-blonde hair and a rash of acne on her cheeks.
‘Seventy-eight pee,’ she said, sniffing at the paucity of his purchase.
Joe gave her a pound coin. ‘You’re not Karen, by any chance?’
She was immediately on the defensive. ‘Why?’
‘I’m looking for Alise. I understand she’s a friend of yours?’
‘Who says?’ Karen scanned the shop warily. There was only one other customer, an elderly woman, talking to another member of staff.
‘I’m not here to make trouble,’ Joe said. ‘I just want to make sure she’s all right. Is it true she’s staying with you?’
Karen nodded unhappily. ‘It’s only casual, like. No one else knows.’
‘I won’t tell anyone. Do you know where she is now?’
‘She didn’t come in last night. I texted, but she hasn’t got back to me.’
‘Is that unusual for her?’
Karen struggled with the question for a moment. ‘I don’t know her well. I only offered her a place to crash ’cause I needed the money.’
‘If you do hear from her, can you tell her to call Joe? She has my number.’
‘Yeah, okay.’ Her expression turned sly. ‘You know she’s back on the market?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Ditched her feller, didn’t she? I can see her falling for somebody like you, though. Good-looking older man …’
Joe ate the peaches as he walked, dawdling because he still felt awkward about inhabiting Diana’s space. Caught himself hoping she’d be out, and then felt guilty about that.
She wasn’t out. As he pushed open the door he heard music playing, the clatter of pans. A second later the smell hit him: his stomach did eager backflips. She was baking.
He shut the door with a thud, to announce his presence. Called out a hello and Diana called back: ‘In here.’
The kitchen was warm and steamy, like a tropical garden. Diana was chopping up carrots, her hair tied back and her face flushed.
‘God, that smells amazing.’
‘Chicken pie,’ she said. ‘And there’s a ginger cake as well. I hope you’re hungry.’
‘Starving.’
‘We’ll eat soon, then. My plans are already out the window.’ She wiped her hands on a tea towel. ‘I’d intended Glenn to join us. A nice of way of introducing you to your new colleague.’
She smiled, anticipating his next question. ‘They rang earlier. Can you start at nine tomorrow? Ten pounds an hour, they said. I assume you knew that?’
‘No, but don’t worry. What happened with Glenn?’
‘He’s been sent on some sort of errand. Last-minute, as usual.’ Diana sounded exasperated, but Joe couldn’t help wondering if she wasn’t also, secretly, a tiny bit relieved.
‘Does that happen a lot?’ he asked.
‘More than it should. I’ve told him to try saying no occasionally, but he won’t. Works too hard, too many hours.’ She sighed. ‘And you’ll be next, I dare say.’
Joe shrugged. ‘Who knows how long I’ll last?’
Diana let him help prepare the vegetables, but only till she realised he’d been out in the rain for hours. Sent away to shower and change, Joe returned to find the dinner cooking, the dishwasher loaded, the wooden-handled saucepans washed up and not a single task remaining, except to open the wine.
‘That would be very useful,’ she said. ‘Chenin Blanc all right with you?’
‘Lovely.’ He asked about her day, which had consisted of shopping, housework and coffee with a friend. In return, he described his visit to the gallery.
‘Patrick Davy seems like a nice guy.’ When Diana made no comment, he added, ‘I also went to the Shell Cavern. Isn’t it extraordinary?’
‘I suppose. Roy and I tried it soon after we moved here, but it gave me the creeps. Of course, that was hilarious to Roy. He kept fooling around, making ghost noises. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.’
Joe commiserated, then
said, ‘I’m curious to hear what it was like when you came to Trelennan.’
She gave him a sidelong glance. ‘There isn’t a lot to say.’
‘Well, what did Roy think of Leon Race, and vice versa? A retired copper moving to the town, I’d have thought they were destined to take an interest in each other?’
‘Not really. Things weren’t so – things were different then.’ Diana smiled, as though to reassure him, but they both knew she had slipped up.
She’d been about to say: Things weren’t so bad then.
In the interests of diplomacy, Joe let the matter drop. Over dinner they discussed the rigours of running a B&B. Diana confirmed his suspicion that the best and the worst aspects of the job were essentially the same thing: the people you met.
Suddenly the first bottle of wine was empty, and it was barely six o’clock. Dark outside, and raining heavily. Another glass or two and he’d be quite happy to go to bed.
Lightweight, he thought.
Diana suggested taking the second bottle into the living room. As he got up his phone buzzed. There was a text from Alise, sent nearly an hour ago. He must have failed to hear it.
Joe, I’ve decided to leave Trelennan. I’ve wasted too much time on this. My sister has to go her own way in life. Sorry not to say goodbye. Xx.
He read the message a couple of times; became aware of Diana’s interest and offered her the phone.
‘It’s from Alise.’ After she’d read it, he pressed the call button, but got the same old message: The mobile you are calling has been switched off.
In the living room, he sank into an armchair while Diana took the adjoining sofa, sitting sideways with her feet tucked beneath her. Joe described his attempts to find Alise, and was forced to admit his temptation to get involved in the search for her sister.
‘The minute you told me you’d spoken to Alise, I knew you’d want to help her.’
‘Except she’s given up and gone back home.’
‘You can’t blame her, can you?’
‘No. It just seems an odd time to throw in the towel.’
Unless she’d been crying wolf, just as Ellie had suggested.
‘If I’m honest, I’m not sorry to hear it,’ Diana said. ‘You have more than enough on your plate right now.’
