Читать книгу Little Girls Tell Tales - Rachel Bennett - Страница 12

Dallin did indeed catch up. But he remained sullen and uncommunicative. I couldn’t help notice his trainers and the cuffs of his jeans were covered with mud.

There was an odd mood to the search party as the morning wore on. We couldn’t forget why we were there. But the very fact gave us a purpose.

‘It’s weird,’ Cora admitted. ‘I’ve been planning this for so long. We’ve been planning this.’ She glanced back at Dallin, who was still bringing up the rear. There was a look on her face that I hoped I’d misinterpreted. ‘It’s hard to believe we’re finally here. This feels like … I don’t want to jinx it. But you feel it, right? This feels like something. Like this could be the real thing.’

I didn’t know what to tell her. ‘You’ve been searching for about three years, right?’

‘I ought to say I’ve been looking since Simone disappeared, but that’s not really true. I’ve always been asking questions. Three years ago I started properly searching.’

‘Why then?’

‘My mother got ill. Pneumonia. For a while we thought – we thought we were going to lose her.’ Cora brushed her fingers against a tree as she passed, letting her touch rest a moment on the bark. ‘She was delirious for a bit, in hospital. She kept thinking I was Simone. It made me realise … none of us ever got closure. When Simone vanished, she ripped a big hole in our family. I hadn’t properly understood what it’d done to us. So that’s why I started looking.’

I raised my eyes briefly to the tangled tree branches above us. ‘And it led you here.’

‘Eventually. There’s been a hell of a lot of false starts.’ Cora pushed aside a springy branch that attempted to bop her face. ‘There were a few times when it felt like we were getting close. Last year I was convinced I’d traced her to a remote part of Scotland. I trekked all the way up there and spent a very long weekend in the weirdest bed and breakfast ever. Ask me about it after a couple of drinks sometime.’

‘How do you find those leads?’

‘Oh, y’know. Everywhere. Newspapers, websites, gossip, urban legends. I know where to look, and I’ve got friends online who’ll notify me if something new pops up. Like they did with your story about the curraghs.’ She favoured me with a smile. ‘It appeared on the forum about six months ago. I’m a regular on that board so I noticed it pretty quickly. As soon as I did, I thought, this could be it.’

I paused to catch my breath. The steady pace helped me avoid getting winded. Even so, my calf muscles ached from the unaccustomed exercise. Cora kept walking.

‘So, did you have to get time off work to come here?’ I asked as I started moving again.

‘Sort of,’ Cora said. She’d unfolded the map from her pocket and held it flat in front of her with the compass laid on top as she walked. ‘I work for a charity. They know my situation and they give me a lot of leeway.’

‘That’s good of them.’ I wondered whether she looked forward to a time when she could return to work without this search weighing on her mind. I thought about my own job.

‘They employ a lot of people who – who’re like me,’ Cora said. ‘Not my exact circumstances, obviously, but similar difficulties. Believe me, a lot of them are far higher maintenance than I am.’

‘What about Dallin?’ He was far enough behind me that I didn’t think he’d overhear. ‘Did he have trouble getting time off from work?’

‘Not as far as I know. He hasn’t mentioned anything.’

‘You guys must be good friends. Not everyone would drop everything to help a person out. Especially if it involved travelling across the country and wading around a marsh.’ I was fishing for information. I couldn’t help it.

Cora smiled. ‘We only met for the first time a few weeks ago. There was no way I would’ve asked him to do this. I was already booked on the ferry and ready to go. Then he announced he was coming with me. He said I could use his help when we got here, to find my way around and know who to talk to, stuff like that. Plus I think he wanted to see you.’

I stopped myself from making a nasty comment. There’d been more than enough opportunities for Dallin to come home. ‘What about your family?’ I asked instead. ‘Didn’t any of them want to come with you?’

‘I haven’t told them I’m here.’

‘You haven’t?’

Cora kept walking. It was difficult to be sure what she was thinking, since her eyes were alternating between watching the ground and checking her map and compass. ‘Simone kinda broke our family when she left,’ she said. ‘There were a whole bunch of arguments and fallings out, and half of us still aren’t talking to the other half.’ She brushed another tree trunk with her fingertips. ‘You know what families are like. Anyway, the upshot is, I don’t have a lot of people I can fall back on in times of need. The last time I told my parents I was going on one of these expeditions, it caused a huge argument. Mum thinks I’m wasting my time. Dad thinks I’m deliberately dredging up the past to cause fights. So, I’ve stopped telling them where I’m going.’

‘I would’ve thought they’d be keen to find out what happened to Simone.’

Another faint smile. ‘I would’ve thought so too.’

I wondered about Dallin. Possibly he was here because he’d genuinely wanted to help Cora. Helping out a friend, I could understand that. Helping a friend he’d only met a short while ago, on what was probably a wild goose chase that would take him away from home for a whole week? That didn’t sound like something Dallin would do on a whim.

They’re definitely more than just friends, I thought.

‘What about you?’ Cora asked, changing the subject. ‘What’re your family like?’

‘I don’t have very many people. My dad died when I was twenty.’ I skipped over what exactly had happened to him. I also skipped over Beth. I couldn’t face raising either subject right then. ‘So it’s just my dear brother Dallin, and our mum.’

Cora looked surprised. ‘His mum lives over here?’

‘In Ramsey. She’s got one of those new-build flats. It’s quite nice, but I know she misses her garden. She used to own the farmhouse where I live. Still does, technically.’

Cora’s brows knitted together. ‘Dallin didn’t say anything about her. He made it sound like you were the only family he’s got.’

I glanced over my shoulder, to where Dallin was plodding along some distance behind us, with his sullen gaze firmly on the ground. ‘Why would he say that?’ I wondered aloud.

‘We’ve only known each other a short while,’ Cora suggested. ‘He’s under no obligation to overshare with me.’

‘Hmm.’ I didn’t particularly want to speculate. It upset me that Dallin hadn’t mentioned Mum. Had they fallen out? On the rare occasions when Dallin’s name came up, Mum always sounded wistful, as she said how she wished he would get in contact more often.

I recalled my conversation with Dallin on the doorstep last night. It’d sounded like he didn’t intend to tell our mother he was on the island at all. The callous nature of that made something hot bubble inside my chest.

When was the last time you felt angry about anything? The thought surprised me. But it was true. There’d been plenty of anger – impotent, directionless, hopeless anger – throughout Beth’s illness, but in recent months a kind of dull funk had settled over my life. I didn’t feel angry or inconsolable anymore. In fact, I pretty much felt nothing. The tablets my doctor had prescribed probably contributed, smoothing out my emotions so I no longer had to deal with the horrific lows and occasional, sickening highs that’d plagued my life after Beth died.

So, I could look at this sudden bubble of anger towards Dallin with a strangely clinical detachment. The anger was brief and unformed and not even particularly strong – it faded almost as soon as it appeared. But it was something I hadn’t felt for a long time, and that was interesting.

A little further on, we reached the east edge of the curraghs. Cora made us walk ten paces south, then turn west to walk back to the road.

‘We just walked this section,’ Dallin complained. ‘There’s nothing here but mud.’

‘That’s how the plan goes,’ Cora said. ‘We cover each square metre. So far we’ve done this bit.’ She showed him on the map. ‘Now we’re doing this bit. If you want to make things smoother, walk next to one of us, not right at the back. That way we’ll cut down on the chances of missing something. Or, even better, go back in time three weeks to when we were discussing this exact point and put forward your arguments then.’

Dallin shifted the straps of his backpack. ‘Seems like we’re wasting a lot of time going over the same ground, that’s all.’

‘If it bothers you that much, I will happily put the maps into your hands.’ Cora presented the map to Dallin with a flourish, then hastily snatched it back. ‘Actually, no, that’s a lie, these are my maps and I love them. If it bothers you that much, you can go buy your own map and plot your own course.’

I looked out over the fields. There were clumps of bog myrtle growing here, and the air was perfumed with its distinctive smell. It made me think of Beth, who’d often brought home sprigs of the pungent leaves, insisting it would keep midges away in the evenings when she sat out in the garden.

Usually, I would’ve avoided dwelling on the memory. There were so many things that reminded me of Beth. Everything I did or said would contain some echo of another time. I’d learned not to focus too long on each memory as it surfaced, because they all had sharp edges, even the happy ones. Especially the happy ones.

But now, for a moment, I breathed deeply and remembered the times Beth had come home with pockets full of wild mushrooms or foraged leaves or pignuts, those knobbly ground-nuts which she would leave scattered on the draining board, still half-coated in mud.

Beth had loved the curraghs, and they’d been good to her in return. Now, she was gone, but the land remained the same. This bog had been here long before me and Beth ever ventured into it, hand in hand, and it would be here long after all trace of us vanished from the earth. It was a permanent yet ever-changing place.

Behind me, Cora and Dallin had come to some kind of peace. We set off walking back towards the road.

I found myself at the back with Dallin. He was still in a huff, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket.

‘You agree with me, right?’ he said to me.

‘About what?’

‘We’re wasting time searching up here.’ Dallin gave a curt nod towards the fields which were visible through the thin trees to our right. ‘You weren’t anywhere near here when you found the body. Otherwise you would’ve said you could see the fields. So why’re we wasting our time?’

I thought about it before I answered. ‘I said I couldn’t remember seeing the fields,’ I admitted. ‘But I also said I’d been everywhere in the curraghs since that day. And I can honestly say I’ve never been here, in this exact spot. It never occurred to me to search at the edges. So maybe Cora’s right – maybe she has to search everywhere, including the places that don’t seem likely. If she skips bits, she’ll always wonder if Simone’s remains were lying in one of these out-of-the-way spots where she didn’t think to look.’ I shrugged. ‘She needs to be sure. That involves checking everywhere.’

Dallin grunted. ‘Still seems daft to me.’

‘You know what seems daft? The fact you’re here at all. It would’ve been much easier for you to just point Cora in the general direction of the Island and leave her to it. But you came all the way out here, in person. Why?’

‘I wanted to help.’ He tried and failed to sound sincere. ‘She’s a vulnerable person. I wanted to give her all the help I could. And I didn’t know if you would talk to her if I wasn’t there to smooth things over. If she’d turned up on your doorstep out of the blue, you might’ve turned her away.’

‘So why not call and explain the situation to me?’

‘I emailed.’

‘No, you didn’t. Last night I checked my emails from the last two months, plus the junk folder. You didn’t email me. And anyway, how much effort would it take for you to pick up the phone? It’s not like you don’t know the number; it’s the same as when you lived at home.’

Dallin pushed a hand through his hair. ‘You’re mad at me.’

‘Yes.’ It was easy to admit. ‘I’ve every reason to be mad.’

‘Listen, if I’d known it was such a big deal for you to get prior warning I was coming here, then—’

‘That’s not why, and you know it.’ I slowed my pace. I didn’t want Cora to overhear this argument. ‘I can’t believe how much of a hypocrite you are. Talking about how Cora needs you and you can’t possibly let her down. What about me? What about Beth?’

As I spoke, I realised this was the first time I’d said Beth’s name aloud in months. It rang in my ears. I wanted to snatch it back, like it was something private, not to be shared.

Dallin kept walking. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to Beth,’ he muttered.

‘So am I.’ A bubble of hurt expanded in my chest. For a moment I was filled by it, unable to breathe. Gradually it subsided. But that moment reminded me of all the moments before it, when the slightest word could trigger something. The hurt was always there. I’d come to understand it would never fully go away.

‘I’m sorry I lost contact with you,’ Dallin said. ‘With both of you. I thought—’ The words seemed to tangle in this throat. ‘I thought you were fine, y’know? You were living your lives and I didn’t want to intrude.’

‘She was really upset you wouldn’t come to the wedding,’ I said. Each word felt like broken glass. I spoke carefully so I wouldn’t cut myself.

‘I was out of the country. I wanted to come, believe me.’

I didn’t believe him. ‘You didn’t even reply to the invitation.’

‘I was travelling. By the time I got her email, it was too late. I’m sorry.’

‘What about the other messages? She tried to contact you after that, a bunch of times, after she got sick. Why the hell didn’t you reply?’

Dallin let out a long breath. ‘Honestly? I didn’t realise how ill she was. If she’d come right out and told me, of course I would’ve come home.’

‘She didn’t want to spell it out in an email. You should’ve known that.’

‘Listen, in hindsight, you are completely right. I should’ve come home. But at the time? I thought – I don’t know. The way she danced around the issue. All those half-hints. I thought it was one of her games.’

I almost choked in disbelief. ‘A game?’

‘I know how terrible that sounds. But that’s what she was like as a kid. She would say something crazy and see which friends would come running. That’s all I thought it was.’

‘How could you think that? Why would she lie about something so awful?’

‘I have no idea why she would do anything. Let’s be honest, I barely even knew her by then.’ Dallin kicked a tree stump in annoyance. ‘I didn’t know either of you, apparently.’

I stopped walking and faced him directly. ‘Is that why you acted like a spoiled baby? Because you had a stupid childhood crush on your best friend and it turned out she wanted to be with me instead?’

Dallin met my gaze briefly. ‘You never loved her like I did.’

The anger that’d been absent from my life for so long rose up in me. I swung my arm and punched him in the jaw. It happened so fast I couldn’t believe I’d done it. One second I was standing there, the next, Dallin was reeling backwards. He put his foot down in a marshy puddle and almost overbalanced. If he hadn’t caught hold of a tree branch for support he would’ve fallen.

‘She was my wife,’ I said. My voice rose along with my anger. ‘Don’t you dare talk about her that way.’

I shoved past him.

Cora was staring at me with shock on her face. I walked straight past her too.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I can’t do this.’

It wasn’t possible to run in the thick bogland, but I hurried as fast as I could in the direction of the road.