Читать книгу Little Girls Tell Tales - Rachel Bennett - Страница 11

The next morning I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. I could’ve kept the curtains closed, the door locked, the lights off. I wanted to stay like that until the sour feeling in my stomach went away. Until I felt strong enough to restart my everyday routine.

But maybe the shadow of Beth was still at my side, because something made me wake before dawn and get out of bed. I made tea and toast without observing my usual ritual of watching the sun rise over the curraghs. Today I hurried around the house to open the curtains even before I’d finished my tea.

I had somewhere I wanted to be. It was something that hadn’t happened for over a year.

You can help them, Beth would’ve said. Yes, that was definitely it. Beth would’ve laughed and made a game of it. Chased me out of bed. Held the door and told me off for dawdling. Smiled like she always had, from the day I’d got lost in the wetlands right up until the day she died. She’d always smiled like we were both still children. Still capable of taking on anything the world could throw at us.

You can help them.

Wrapped up in my warm coat and bobble hat, I paused on the front doorstep to breathe the chill morning air. It wasn’t just Beth who was urging me on. There was a second shadow on my other side, just outside my field of vision. Bogbean.

For them, I could do this.

Besides, I wanted to not think about the letter that’d arrived yesterday. I didn’t want to be tempted to take it out from inside the photo album where I’d hidden it the night before.

I got into my car and started the engine. It always hated to start, especially on cold mornings. The problem was I never drove enough to keep the engine in good condition. I usually only took it out once a week, on Sundays, to visit Mum. The rest of the time it just sat there. Several times over the winter months I’d tried the ignition only to find the battery had gone dead. If it hadn’t been for Mum, I probably wouldn’t have bothered to call out the garage to get it fixed.

Today the car started after two attempts, which was fairly good, on average. I drove out to the main road and around to the car park in the curraghs without seeing another car on the road. The drive took almost ten minutes, even though the car park wasn’t geographically that far away from our house, because the road curved half a mile out of the way then back again. Plus the road was shockingly bad. I stayed in first gear most of the way, slowing to a crawl over a few particularly bad potholes. I hoped Dallin had thought to warn Cora.

When I reached the curraghs, I found Cora and Dallin already there. Cora was sheltering under the open boot of the car as she packed a backpack. Dallin was standing a short distance away, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been a recently acquired habit. He’d never used to smoke.

You haven’t seen him in years, I reminded myself. He could be a completely different person by now, with a hundred bad habits you don’t know about.

As I pulled up behind Cora’s car, Cora looked up in surprise. Her face was tight with concern. But a smile lit her face as she recognised me.

I got out of the car and pulled my jacket a little tighter against the chill. Dallin nodded to me but stayed distant while he finished his cigarette.

‘Morning,’ I said.

‘This is a lovely surprise,’ Cora said. ‘Everything okay?’

Now I was closer, I could see the gauntness of her face. She looked like she hadn’t slept. I drew a breath then asked, ‘I wondered if you could use an extra set of eyes today?’

‘Oh, wow, yes, definitely. Are you sure? I don’t think the weather’s going to get much better than it is right now.’

‘I’d like to help.’ It was the truth. I’d sat up for half the night thinking about her story. I still didn’t think we’d find anything, but I wanted to help her look.

‘That’s really kind. Thank you.’

Her smile made warmth rise to my face. I made a pretence of looking at the road we’d come in on. ‘Did you get here okay?’ I asked. ‘I forgot to warn you about the road.’

‘Yeah, that was a bit of an adventure. It was like Wages of Fear finding this place.’ She adjusted her bobble hat, tucking loose strands of blonde hair out of the way. ‘I thought this was a fairly popular spot. For walkers and stuff? Why don’t they maintain the road?’

Dallin laughed. ‘This is completely average for the roads over here. I’ve seen potholes you could lose a Smart car in. Are we ready?’

In all honesty, I wasn’t sure if I was ready. The morning had a weird sense of unreality hanging over it. I tried not to think too hard about what we were doing here or what we hoped to find. If I avoided that, I could pretend this was a normal outing. No big deal.

Except that’s a lie too. When was the last time you went on an outing with anyone?

‘I’ve got the maps here,’ Cora said. She’d spread them out in the boot. ‘We’re going to try to cover sections A12 through A27, then back along B28 through B11 this morning. Once we get back to the road—’

‘What’s that in English?’ Dallin asked.

‘We’re going to start at the top of the map, roughly in the middle where the road cuts through and work our way across, left to right, then back again. English enough for you?’

Cora held out one of the maps so I could see. The hand-drawn squares were marked with letters and numbers. A1 was in the top left; Q39 at the bottom right. I saw at once the route she’d described, running from the road eastward through the curraghs until it came almost to the field boundary, then doubling back on itself.

‘Once we get back to the road,’ Cora said, ‘we’ll assess how much we’ve done and figure out whether we have to pick up the pace or not.’ She looped a dark green scarf around her neck and tucked the ends down the front of her waterproof jacket. ‘Weather forecast is changeable, but we hopefully won’t get rained on until later this afternoon. Be aware it might get warmer. Hope everyone wore layers.’

Dallin rolled his eyes. ‘She wouldn’t let me out of the tent this morning until I proved I was wearing at least three layers,’ he said. ‘She’s like a mother-hen.’

‘I’m sure your mother would kick me in the shins if she thought I was letting you catch a cold out here,’ Cora replied. I saw Dallin wince.

I picked up my own backpack from my car. I’d been worried the others wouldn’t think to bring snacks and water, but now I saw I’d been concerned for nothing. Cora was better prepared than I was. As well as the maps, she had two bottles of water, a large bar of chocolate, a small first aid kid, and a torch shoved into her bag. She adjusted the water bottles so they wouldn’t dig into her back, then swung the bag onto her shoulder.

‘Which way first?’ I asked.

The car park was little more than a slightly wider bend in the road. If more than a few cars arrived at the same time, the road could get completely blocked. On all sides the trees hemmed us in. Off to the left, a faded noticeboard showed a map of the main route through the curraghs, as well as a few diagrams of the local wildlife. Beyond it, the path cut through the trees towards a five-bar gate, which led to the main track.

I’d assumed we would be starting from the main track, but Cora paced off up the road in the direction we’d come.

‘Are you really planning to go cross-country right from the off?’ I asked. I snuck another look at the map before Cora tucked it into a pocket of her backpack. ‘I don’t know if there are any real paths at that end of the curraghs. At least, not any that’ll go right the way through and back again.’

‘We’ll have to go cross-country at some point,’ Cora said. ‘Might as well get used to it.’

I fell into step beside her. I wasn’t sure it was such a great idea to stray off the main trails on the first day. The going would be tough, if not impossible in places. It might be enough to discourage Cora from her search before it’d even begun.

I glanced down. Cora wore decent wellies, with waterproof trousers tucked into them. None of her gear looked new. Either she did a lot of hiking, or she’d borrowed good clothes from someone who knew what they were doing. Either way it was reassuring. She’d done her homework and she’d come prepared.

Out of interest, I glanced back at Dallin. He wore a bright blue waterproof jacket that still had the sheen of newness, but also jeans and scuffed trainers. He’d have to take care where he trod, or he would spend the day with wet feet. I wondered if no one had bothered to tell him to dress appropriately … or if he’d deliberately not listened.

I shrugged off the question. Dallin had grown up playing in the wetlands. If he didn’t know to wear wellies, it wasn’t any of my business.

At least he’s wearing layers. I started to smile, then stopped as I remembered his offhand comment. Dallin had made it sound like him and Cora were sharing a tent. Was that true? I watched them both as we walked, looking for clues as to whether they were something more than friends. I told myself I was just curious.

No one spoke as we marched off towards our starting point. It occurred to me Cora hadn’t asked if I had anything else to do that day – like going to work or seeing friends. Maybe Dallin had already briefed her on my situation.

I glanced again at Dallin. It stung a little, to think of him talking to people about me, telling them my private life. How much had he said? Did Cora know about my mum and dad? Did she know about Beth?

And then I wondered who else he’d spoken to. Perhaps everyone in his life knew about his sister who lived, broken and alone, in her house in the curraghs.

I shoved my hands into my pockets. For the last year, I’d felt safe and forgotten. No one came to visit anymore. The few friends I’d had – Beth’s friends – had phoned and texted and emailed, with less and less frequency as time went on, until at last, no one checked in with me anymore. I’d ignored my social media accounts for so long they’d probably been deactivated.

I still received those letters, of course, in their plain handwritten envelopes. Nothing could stop them arriving.

Possibly it was being out here in the curraghs which had so quickly soured my mood. Me and Beth had walked those pathways so often. It felt weird being there without her. I hadn’t properly taken that into consideration before leaving my house that morning.

Cora was consulting her smartwatch. She slowed, stopped, took two more paces then a shuffling half-step. ‘That’s us,’ she said. ‘Right here.’

We’d all but reached the edge of the curraghs. From here, along the rest of the length of the road, there were only sparser trees and hedges. Cora double-checked her watch, which showed a bare-bones map and GPS coordinates, then turned to look at the trees at the side of the road. They appeared no different to any other section of the curraghs. The most obvious difference was there was no path of any sort leading into the wetlands. There was also a ditch separating the road from the trees.

‘So, how’re we finding our way, exactly?’ Dallin asked.

‘We’re trailblazing.’ Cora half-smiled at him. ‘Shall I lead the way, or do you want to?’

Dallin muttered something under his breath. There were shadows under his eyes, like maybe he’d been drinking the night before. Not that I blamed him. In a way I was almost jealous. It’d been a long time since I’d last had alcohol.

How sad do you have be, to be jealous of someone with a hangover? This thought, at last, did bring a smile to my face.

Cora jumped over the ditch and pushed aside a couple of branches. The twisted, shallow-rooted trees that grew in the curraghs were springy and resistant, and didn’t much like being shoved out of the way. Cora stepped through them with difficulty.

I looked at Dallin, but he seemed happy to bring up the rear.

I took a short run-up and leapt across the ditch, but lost my balance on the other bank. I would’ve fallen backwards into the brackish water if Cora hadn’t shot out a hand to grab me.

‘Thanks,’ I said, a little breathless, as I regained my footing. ‘It’s been a while since I did anything strenuous.’

In fact, just that small bit of exercise made me realise how out of shape I’d become. I knew I’d put on weight over the eighteen months, due in part to my medication, but it hadn’t really affected me. Staying indoors so much, I wasn’t bothered when my lightweight summer clothes no longer fit. Loose fitting T-shirts and jogging pants had always been my preferred outfits anyway. Without Beth to encourage me to cook meals from scratch, I’d fallen into the bad habit of easily prepared processed food and ready meals; without Beth to drag me out for long walks in the countryside, I’d lost the inclination to go outside.

Now, all of a sudden, I felt self-conscious as I followed Cora through the half-gap in the trees.

There was no path, not even an ill-defined trail left by animals. We were immediately stepping over mud pockets and sunken tree roots. At least the trees were less tightly clumped together here. Weak morning sunlight slanted in through the thin leaves. A few metres to our right, a barbed wire fence marked the edge of someone’s field. Beyond it, tall grass swayed in the soft breeze.

‘We’re too near the edge of the curraghs,’ Dallin said. He’d hopped over the ditch without any issues. ‘We need to search further into the middle.’

‘We need to search all of it,’ Cora said. ‘If we start in the middle we might miss out whole sections by accident.’ She kept one eye on her GPS as she walked. In her other hand she also carried her compass. ‘Has this area changed much in fifteen years?’ she asked me. ‘I mean in terms of size. Has it spread out, or have people built in on the edges, anything like that?’

‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘The only building that might’ve expanded into it would be the Wildlife Park.’ I pointed south, in the vague direction of the park. ‘But I’m not sure if anyone would be allowed to expand outwards into the curraghs. This is all protected land.’

‘Protected by who?’ Cora asked. ‘We’re not going to get arrested for going off-piste like this, are we?’

Dallin laughed. ‘National Heritage have got better things to do than prosecute ramblers. If anyone complains, we’ll say we got lost. Happens all the time, apparently.’

Cora set the pace, moving steadily between the trees, keeping to the scant dry patches of land, but never letting herself get drawn off the arrow-straight path she’d mapped. We followed her. I fell into a rhythm, glad we weren’t walking too fast. I worried now about exhausting myself before the day was half done. How had I not noticed my stamina was so low?

But, even with my internal concerns, it felt good to be out of the house. The curraghs were peaceful that morning. The early birds had flitted off to find breakfast, and the only noise came from the trees quietly whispering as they brushed together.

It was so peaceful in fact that I completely forgot I was supposed to be checking the ground for signs of the missing skeleton. It was Cora who reminded me. She cast her gaze back and forth with each step, searching the mud on either side, delaying each step forward until she was totally sure there was nothing there to find. I felt a pang of guilt. Neither me nor Dallin were paying as much attention as her. Perhaps subconsciously I agreed with Dallin – we were too close to the edge of the curraghs, and therefore there was no real point in looking out for anything.

After fifteen or twenty minutes, the trees thinned out further and the ground became a lot boggier. I spotted where a drainage ditch at the side of the field had burst into the curraghs. The water had an oily, polluted sheen to it.

‘I knew things were going too smoothly,’ Cora said. She stepped gingerly onto a tussock of grass, testing to make sure it wouldn’t spill her into the bog. ‘I think we can get across like this.’

‘I thought you’d figured it all out from your maps,’ Dallin said. ‘How come a patch of bog can sneak up on you?’

‘Maps and photos are all well and good,’ Cora said, ‘but no plan survives boots on the ground.’ She hopped to the next tussock. The movement sent ripples through the muddy water. ‘There’ll always be surprises. Not that I’m happy about it, of course. I don’t like guesswork. Don’t like not being sure. In an ideal world, a superior plan will always beat any surprise the world might throw at you. But, what can you do? I don’t—’

The next clump of grass was too small to bear her weight, and tipped her off balance. Cora made an ungainly leap for the safety of solid ground. She fell only a little short. One foot went down into the mud, almost to the top of her welly, but she was able to grab a branch and haul herself free. Her booted foot plopped free with a sucking noise and a belch of bad air. Still hanging onto the tree, Cora kicked some of the mud off her boots, flapping her free hand in a vain attempt to disperse the silage smell. She glanced at her GPS.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘We’re still on track.’

‘Balls to this,’ Dallin said. ‘I’m going around.’

‘Quitter.’ Cora grinned.

It took me considerably longer to get across, but with Cora calling encouragement, I made it, via a more circuitous route. I got a high-five and a smile from Cora, which made the whole endeavour worthwhile.

‘Great. We’re still on course,’ Cora said. ‘Well, two thirds of us are, anyway.’ She tilted her head. Some distance away, Dallin was trying with little success to find a dry path. It was possible to track his progress by the steady stream of swearing coming from amongst the trees.

‘I’m glad we’re not relying on him for directions,’ Cora said. ‘He’s more … out of his element than I expected.’

‘It’s a long time since he’s been home,’ I said, then corrected myself. ‘Since he’s been here. And, I know he lived with all this on his doorstep, but he never … he never felt comfortable out here, in the curraghs. He stuck to the main paths. Never went off exploring like this.’

‘He’s missing out.’ Cora consulted her GPS, and pulled her hat down more securely over her ears. ‘This place is something else. What about you?’

‘Oh. I lived with our dad. When our parents split up.’ I shrugged. ‘Well, you know what it’s like, when things go bad between people. Me and Dallin were caught in the middle. He ended up living with Mum; I lived with Dad.’

‘That must’ve been difficult.’

‘You get used to things.’ It hadn’t seemed too strange at the time. Lots of kids at school had unconventional home-lives. ‘But it meant me and Dallin were never really close. We went to different schools, had different friends, only saw each other at weekends and holidays. What about you?’ I asked then. ‘Were you and Simone close?’

‘No.’ Cora laughed at my obvious surprise. ‘Not all the time. We could fight like two cats in a bin liner when the mood took us.’

‘So why—?’ I bit my tongue.

Cora smiled sadly, like this wasn’t the first time the question had come up. ‘A lot of the time, I wasn’t as good a sister as I could’ve been,’ she said. ‘It took me a while to realise that. And longer before I knew I had to make up for it. Searching for Simone now is pretty much the only thing I can do for her.’

I peered through the trees. We could still hear Dallin but couldn’t see him. ‘Should we wait for Dallin?’ I asked.

‘He’ll catch up,’ Cora said. ‘C’mon. We don’t want to lose time.’