Chapter 33
The atmosphere in the front of the car was thick with tension on the drive back through the forest to Ambleford. Beth hugged the memory of kissing Rick close. She hadn’t wanted to stop; she’d felt fireworks in her head, down to delicious tingles in her toes. Her insides did a happy little tango. He was kind, generous and thoughtful, and if he could kiss her like that, he must genuinely care for her.
She stole a glance at him. That hunted look was back in his eyes, strain evident in tight lines at the corner of his mouth. Who could be looking for him?
Jack spoke up as they neared the village green. ‘Can you drop us here? We’re going to the park.’
Rick pulled in outside The Coffee Pot. The boys jumped out, slamming the doors far harder than necessary. Beth put a tentative hand towards Rick, stopping just shy of touching him. ‘I think we need to talk. Will you let me buy you a coffee?’
He hesitated.
‘Look.’ She pointed to the empty tables and chairs on the pavement. ‘There’s no one else here. If we sit outside, we can escape if we need to.’
After a beat, Rick killed the engine. ‘I’d like that.’
Beth chose the table closest to the car.
Stacy, short and compact in a burgundy tabard with a badge that said: “ Smile, it might never happen ”, bustled over armed with an iPad. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Black coffee, please.’ Beth cast a glance at Rick. A small vein pulsed near his temple. He gave a small nod, but made no move to speak. ‘Make that two, please. And a couple of Rose’s cakes, if you have them.’
‘Coming right up.’
They waited for their drinks in silence. On the green, a small group gathered. They wore matching yellow waistcoats and hopped up and down waving wooden sticks at each other.
‘I’ve never seen real Morris dancers,’ murmured Rick.
‘They’re rehearsing for May Day.’
A yelp of protest echoed across the grass as a stray stick connected with a delicate portion of Morris dancer anatomy.
Rick’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
‘What that woman at the tip said about someone showing your photo around, I can see it’s upset you. Can you tell me why? I’d like to understand.’
Rick slumped down in his chair. ‘I thought I was safe here.’
‘Safe from what?’
‘There’s a podcast that comes out every couple of days or so. It’s run by the two social media commentators that … anyway, it’s dedicated to tracking me down.’
‘How?’
‘Asking for people to phone in with sightings.’
‘You’re kidding. Surely people have better things to do with their lives?’
‘Evidently not. They chat about where I might be and how to flush me out. That sort of thing. It’s nonsense, of course, but it’s only a matter of time before they find me.’ He kept his gaze trained on the dancers. Sticks had been thrown on the floor. A minor dispute was underway.
Stacy returned with a loaded tray. Beth decided to hit the problem head on. ‘Stacy. Has anyone been asking questions in here recently, showing a photo perhaps?’
‘There was a fella in a day or so ago. He had a photo with him. Hang on.’ The empty tray under one arm, she pulled her iPad from the pocket of her tabard. ‘Here, I took a screenshot.’
Beth leaned in. ‘Of the man?’
‘No. Of the photograph. See?’
Beth’s eyes went from the screen to Rick. ‘It’s definitely you.’
Stacy looked at Rick, her eyes narrowing. ‘Oh, yeah, so it is. Your hair is longer now, but it’s you alright.’
‘What did you tell him?’ Rick’s tone was flat.
‘The truth. I hadn’t seen you, had I?’
‘Did he say who he was?’ asked Beth.
‘He left a card, but it got chucked in the bin while I was clearing. Sorry.’
‘Rick, you’ve gone ever so pale. Are you okay? Have something to eat.’ Beth pushed a cake towards him.
Rick ignored it. ‘Stacy, did he speak to anyone else?’
‘I couldn’t say. It was mega busy in here. I doubt anyone paid much attention. It’s not like he was offering a reward or anything.’
‘If he comes back, can you let me know, please?’ said Beth. ‘You’ve got my mobile number. And can you not… well… not, you know?’
Stacy jerked her head at Rick. ‘Not tell on matey boy here? Sure. No probs. I have a policy of never seeing or hearing anything. Customers don’t come back if they think I’ll gossip about them. Enjoy your coffee. Let me know if you want anything else.’
As soon as they were alone, Beth asked, ‘Who do you think it was?’
‘Paps, probably.’
‘Paparazzi? I’d have thought you’d be old news by now.’
‘That patient I mentioned, his mum is famous, too. Not so much before this. She had a bit part in Corrie and did a low-budget reality show, that sort of thing. But ever since this… well, she’s never out of the papers and she’s just been given this big radio show. Barbara said she thought she was using it to boost her career, but… I don’t know.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Cora Diamond.’
‘I’ve never heard of her.’
Rick snorted. ‘I wish I could say the same.’
Beth sat back. ‘I don’t get it. You said your patient mixed street drugs with medicine you prescribed for depression. How come you’re accountable?’
‘It’s a grey area. Paperwork proving my innocence went missing. It means Cora can take me to the cleaners. And with the exception of something else really big happening like aliens landing, it’s a hot news item. A story that can run and run. You know that woman I’m supposed to have run over?’
Beth nodded.
‘Well, she and her partner tricked their way into one of my clinics, but if it wasn’t them, it would have been someone else. And my colleagues just…’
His voice broke and his distress made Beth’s heart ache. ‘What? What did they do?’
‘They kicked me out. Not in so many words, but it was made very clear that they wanted me to disappear.’
‘That must have hurt.’
He gave a bitter laugh. ‘I’ve worked with them for over twenty years and they couldn’t drop me fast enough. I couldn’t take any more. I snapped and ran and the rest you know.’
‘When you say you ran, what do you mean?’
Rick flushed. ‘I didn’t run exactly. I climbed.… out of a window.’
An uneasy sensation flooded her chest. ‘You mean you disappeared? Just like that?’
‘Yes, I… Why are you looking at me like that?’
A low buzz sounded in her ears. What is it with men running away when things get tough? An oily sense of disappointment slithered up her spine. ‘That’s what Paul did.’
‘Paul?’
‘My ex. He just disappeared. Next thing I got was a letter telling me it was all over and he was never coming back.’
Rick sat bolt upright. ‘I’m not like Paul, I promise.’
‘So you’ve contacted your family? They’re not worried sick about you?’
He pulled a face. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Have you contacted anyone?’
‘My indemnity advisors.’
‘Your insurance?’ Beth couldn’t stop her mouth gaping. The memory of Daisy’s distraught reaction to Paul’s disappearance loomed large in her mind. Superimposed over it was a little boy, about the same age as Grace, wondering where his daddy was. ‘What about your son? You can’t walk away from a child without a word.’
‘What? Child? No, wait…’
She sprang to her feet, jogging the table in her haste. ‘I thought you were someone I could trust.’
‘I am. Beth, you’re not being fair.’
‘Not fair is disappearing and not caring enough to put people’s minds at rest.’ Beth’s heart pounded in her chest as if trying to spring free of her body altogether. ‘What if that person showing your photo around is someone who loves you, desperate to know you’re okay?’
‘It’s a reporter, I’m sure of it.’
‘You don’t know that.’ She wiped away a rogue tear. ‘But I know what it’s like to be dumped and so do my kids – left behind like unwanted luggage because some man has decided he’s had enough. I can tell you this: the people left behind always get hurt.’
Rick got to his feet, too, his expression solemn. ‘I’m sorry Paul treated you and your children so badly. I would never abandon a partner or a child. David is a strapping twenty-two-year-old sous chef living in Italy. He rarely needs to chat with his old man. But you’re right. I should have contacted him before now and I will. I promise.’
She dug a tissue from her pocket. ‘I’m sorry. I hadn’t realised how raw all that stuff with Paul still is.’
Rick came around the table and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘Shall I take you home?’
Her mind spinning with conflicting emotions, Beth picked up her handbag from the table. ‘No, thank you. I’ll walk. I could do with the fresh air.’
‘We could both walk and I’ll come back for the car later.’
She shook her head. ‘I need time to think.’
‘I don’t like to see you upset.’
‘I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll see you later.’ She placed an apologetic hand on his chest for a brief second before turning on her heels and walking away from him.
*
Twenty minutes later, Beth was wishing she’d had the sense to wear more sensible shoes. Strappy wedge-heeled sandals weren’t the best choice for hiking home from the village. Just south of Old Farm Lane, hot and sweaty, with blisters on blisters that made her toes scream, she paused to catch her breath. A wooden signpost marked the entrance to one of the many gravelled forestry commission car parks. She leaned on the post, easing her ankle straps away from red-raw skin, just as the sound of something smashing filtered through the trees. Peeking through a gap in the gorse bushes, she could make out a white van at the far end of the car park. Two deep voices carried clearly on the quiet forest air.
‘Come on, Derrick. Get a bloody move on, ’fore someone comes.’
‘Keep your hair on, Pete. Got a couple more of them chairs in ’ere. And that shelving unit.’
A loud grunt accompanied a thump.
Pete’s voice came again. ‘Come on. We’ve got to go.’
Beth took a moment to compute what was going on, but as soon as two and two made four, she scrabbled in her pocket for her phone. She crept forwards, filming as she went, just in time to capture Derek and Pete throw two black office chairs into the undergrowth, followed by a hideous purple bathtub.
They turned and spotted her.
Derrick cursed.
Pete leapt into the driver’s seat and started the engine. ‘Get in the effing van, man.’
Wheels spun.
Tyres crunched.
Gravel scattered like buckshot.
The van lurched forwards on a direct collision course with Beth.
She kept filming, her hands trembling. With only seconds to spare, she realised Pete wasn’t planning to swerve. She stumbled back. The wing mirror clipped her arm. The whole world spun. Her arms and legs flailed. Something hard hit her head.
*
Black. All black. Beth shivered. She’d never experienced such intense cold before. Dragging a long, shuddering breath in, she coughed, then gagged. What is that awful smell? She forced leaden eyelids to open. Blurred brown splodges pulsated and then rearranged themselves into a more recognisable order. Mud. The bottom of a ditch. Stagnant water.
Ugh! Thank goodness my face didn’t land in that.
Head throbbing, she pushed away from the slime and scum, trying to make her body cooperate. A sharp pain shot through her right shoulder. There was an alarming sensation of bone grinding against bone. The arm had no power. Her stomach heaved.
She inched her way out of the ditch, hampered by her waterlogged clothing. It took immense effort to get to her feet and stagger towards the road. Just as she reached the edge of the tarmac, she crumpled to her knees. Fiery pain shot through every cell in her body. One hand felt curiously warm. She looked down. Paddy was licking her wrist, his tongue rough. So, this was what she’d needed to do to get the grumpy old dog’s attention. He nudged and nuzzled at her. Then he whined, sat back on his haunches and barked. Beth closed her eyes. Pain and nausea warring for supremacy. Paddy stopped barking, sprang to his feet and disappeared.
Was that it? Years of feeding him and walking him when Paul and the children couldn’t be bothered, and what did she get in her hour of need? Thirty seconds of slobber and then he buggered off. Ungrateful mutt.
Her vision narrowed to a pinprick, as if she were gazing down a long, dark tunnel towards a distant light. Then the light went off and she slumped to the ground. The sweet smell of earth and grass registered only seconds before the empty blackness returned.