Leaving George Page 5

  She closed her eyes and used a meditation technique to lull herself into sleep. She travelled in her mind to a desert island and walked the deserted beach and the real and present swoosh of the waves from across the meadow made the familiar, virtual journey very real. When she slept she slept deeply with dreams of the beach and the water and a presence in the cove and when she woke in the bright morning she puzzled about who the figure had been standing on the cliff top watching her. Dream and reality had melded and blurred and it was fascinating.

  “Hello – are you there?

  “Morning Dolly, come in I’ve put the kettle on.”

  “Lovely. How are you today?”

  “I’m fine thanks. I can’t believe how quickly the time is going though. I realised today that this time next week I’ll be packing up to leave. I’m going to miss it here.”

  “Aww that’s nice to hear but you’ve got a lot of exciting things ahead.”

  “Yes, yes I have. I have had a wonderful time though and last night was so brilliant. I went down to the beach in the dark and walked on the sand and sat in the rocks. It was amazing, hey and no ghost!” As she made the light-hearted comment a knot of unease pulled at her and she turned away, unsure whether the moment showed in her face.

  “Well that’s good. It was a beautiful evening. Did your friend go with you?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Your friend, did he go with you? I hope you don’t mind me mentioning this by the way. You have rented the cottage and it sleeps four of course and it’s fine to have someone to come and stay but you do need to let me know when there are extra people in. It’s all to do with the fire regulations.”

  “I’m sorry Dolly – I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  “Oh. Well that’s odd. Mind I didn’t see him myself. Jim told me about him.”

  “Who?”

  “Okay, Jim said that when he went up to check on the beasts in the top field he saw a friend of yours in the garden. He waved and the bloke waved back and then just went and sat on the little bench. It didn’t seem strange or suspicious and the chap didn’t seem put out. Jim said it was just as if he was waiting for you.”

  “Are you okay Pauline, you’ve gone very pale. Hey, here, sit down.”

  “Sorry Dolly, sorry, just a dizzy spell. I’m fine really. I… I just need my breakfast. But I assure you, I haven’t got a friend here and I’m not expecting anyone. It must just have been someone needing a sit down perhaps? Maybe it was someone local? Perhaps if you ask Jim again?”

  “Yes, yes I will. Well how odd.”

  The chill that she felt was nothing to do with a change in the weather and Pauline breathed a sigh of relief as the other woman gathered up her things and left to work in the vegetable garden.

  She sat in the chair by the window staring out at the little wooden bench. Who the hell had been sitting there while she was away? She knew no-one apart from Dolly and Jim and none of the people from her past had any idea where she was.

  Did they?

  Chapter 13

  The barn wall formed part of the garden boundary. Beside the old stones the soil was damp and soft. Pauline peered down through the heather and rose bushes. She had to check, though she hoped there would be nothing to find. The shadow and movement had been imagination and a movement of the light, hadn’t it? No, not that, for she could see them now: footprints unmistakable in the dark earth. Perhaps they had been there for a long time? She had never come over here before peering and poking about; why would she? The branches scraped at her arms and hands. As she knelt to look more closely she caught her cheek on a sharp thorn and hissed with shock.

  “’Ave you lost somethin’ there?”

  “Oh, Jim!”

  “Your face is bleedin’. You need to be careful rootlin’ down amongst them roses.”

  “Yes, yes. I’d better go in and wash it.”

  “Did you find it?”

  “Find what, sorry?”

  “Whatever you were lookin’ fer. Did you find it?”

  “Oh, I wasn’t looking for anything.” She pulled herself up short and then decided not be embarrassed. She would tell him what she was doing. She would explain even though he would likely think her fey and silly. Jim was a down to earth farmer, he would ridicule her worries. Of course he knew nothing of where the fear came from and why she was reacting the way that she was.

  She took a deep breath. “I was looking to see if someone had been here Jim.”

  “’Ere, in this corner?” His glance down at the disturbed flower bed told her more than his puzzled words.

  “Yes, here in this corner. I thought that I saw someone in the garden last night, in the dark.”

  “Aye, well. You’d been down on the beach b’aint ya.”

  “Yes, I went down to walk on the sands in the dark. Did Dolly tell you?”

  “Aye, she did. Daft ideas folks get, no wonder you’m ‘avin’ fancies. Anyway, let me in there.”

  He didn’t push her aside but the way that he muscled in left Pauline no option but to move back onto the grass. All she could see for a moment was his round behind sticking out from the foliage and she had to fight the urge to giggle in spite of her fears. He used the gnarly old stick that he carried to swipe aside the sharper branches and then moved backward wiping his dirty hands down the front of his trousers.

  “Aye, somebody’s bin in there. ‘T’weren’t me; too big for my feet. ‘T’weren’t Dolly neither. That chap I see yesterday, Dolly said it weren’t a friend a yourn, s’that right?”

  “Yes… I mean no. No, I wasn’t expecting anyone. Nobody at all.”

  “Well, it could’a been a rambler. Them bugger’s don’t know ‘ow to keep to the paths ‘alf the time. Find ‘em in the field with the beasts, in the farmyard, on the meadow. They just think the whole bloody place is some sort of ‘oliday camp. This though, this is far in the corner. I dun’t know what to make a’this.”

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and Pauline had to clasp her hands tightly to hide the shaking of her fingers. She couldn’t think of anything to say to this wrinkly old man as he stood before her with his head tipped to one side, puzzlement on his weather beaten face.

  “Do you want me to call the officer?”

  “The officer?”

  “Aye ‘im from the village. Police officer. Mind what he can do I can’t think. All he can do is look and that won’t ‘elp.”

  “No, no I suppose not. What do you think I, erm, we should do?”

  “I reckon all’s we can do is to lock up them doors and close yer curtains.” As he spoke he reached out a grubby hand and laid it on her arm. “Don’t you fret my dear. I’m just a shout away.”

  She could tell from this unlikely behaviour that her distress was showing on her face and she turned away so that Jim wouldn’t see the swim of tears in her eyes. He was coming at this from a very different place than she. It wasn’t a mystery to him but little more than a minor case of trespass to be sighed over and forgotten. For Pauline though the fear went deep. It couldn’t be possible could it that George had tracked her down? Surely he hadn’t stalked her and stood in the garden watching? Yet if it was George, if he had come, then what would he do? She gulped back the panic.

  “Thanks Jim. I guess I’ll just have to be careful with the locks and so on.”

  “Aye, p’raps I should think about burglar alarms for yon windows and doors. All more trouble though, all more fuss.”

  “You going off down the sands now?”

  “I was going to walk on the cliff path.”

  “Aye, well you enjoy that. I reckon there’s a storm comin’ so you make the most of it while you can.”

  “Bye Jim. Thanks again.”

  He turned without another word and raised a hand in a sketchy wave as he stomped back the way that he had come into his farmyard.

  Pauline went back into the cottage and collected her bag and coat. She checked the windows and pulled the bolt across the back doo
r. She could do no more and so would put it out of her mind.

  George couldn’t have found her and she wouldn’t let him take her pleasure. He had taken so much already and she was moving on. The tears were close as she strode away and out onto the well worn footpath. Clouds across the sun echoed the sadness that she couldn’t deny despite her resolve.

  Chapter 14

  Rain crept in during the day so Pauline cut short her walk. For a while she stood at the cottage window staring out at the dripping foliage, feeling alone and sad for the first time since she had made her break. If she and George had children there would be someone to talk to now, someone she would have brought with her. Truthfully though, she had to acknowledge if they had had children then it would mean that more people would be hurt by what had happened. If they had children she would have been tied even more tightly to George. The thoughts whirled and scuttered in her mind, aimless meandering considerations that didn’t cheer her but lowered her mood even more.

  She gave her head a shake. She mustn’t let herself get down, not now when it had all gone so well. Perhaps it was time to leave this lovely little place and get started on the French adventure. There was only slightly less than a week to go though and she did love the cottage and the beach and it was impossible to know how long it would be before she had the chance for another holiday.

  And then she knew what she had to do. Pulling on her oldest trainers and a waterproof jacket she went out into the rain. She lifted her face to the gentle wash and immediately her spirits soared. She would go down to the beach and get soaking wet, she would paddle at the edge of the ocean and let the wind and the weather soothe her as it had always done. Many days hiking with bruises on both her body and her soul had proved that fresh air and exercise could do just as much and more than pain killers and sitting around wishing and regretting.

  The sandy path was running with water. Before she had reached the dunes her trousers were soaked and her shoes covered in mud. She felt like a child, a naughty child out in the rain without permission. By now she was laughing with the joy of it and as the rain trickled down from her dripping hair she licked it away. She felt ridiculous and foolish and free.

  The beach was deserted. Grey clouds rested on the pewter ocean and screaming gulls rode the wind, their white wings flashing against the lowering sky. This world was so different from the one of yesterday and yet in its own way just as wonderful. As she walked the problems and sadness lifted and blew away and her confidence returned. She would take it one step at a time, it had worked so far and surely the worst was over anyway.

  She wondered what George had done. No doubt by now the house would be in disarray, her spotless kitchen unrecognisable. He would probably have someone in to clean and manage her old home and she was pleased to find that she didn’t care at all. The place had been so very full of pain. She couldn’t find it in herself to care what happened to the bricks and mortar or the goods and chattels that had been so much subterfuge and window dressing. All lies, valueless and dead.

  She was opposite the cliff now. It would be too wet in the usual place but perhaps she could find some shelter and sit for a while and watch the rolling water and breathe great lungfuls of the rain washed air. She clambered over the boulders sliding and slipping now and again but making her way into the formation. There was a part overhung by rocks and she was able to push into the small space and tuck herself into a crevice. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but she could sit for just a little while and be at one with the weather and the wildness.

  Visibility wasn’t good but it was possible to see as far as the place where the path emerged from between the dunes. She sat with her back against the damp rock and let her eyes roam unfocused across the beach and the waves.

  A movement drew her gaze and she raised her head and screwed up her eyes the better to make out the dark figure across the beach. It wasn’t Dolly or Jim; it was far too tall for either of them. As she watched the man walked a little way forward and turned back and forth as if searching. Dark clothes whipped and slapped around him as he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the wet.

  He didn’t go down to the water’s edge or turn and stride out along the sand. He had no dog that she could see. He was alone.

  The rain was heavier now and she knew that she would have to move soon as she was soaked through. Although that had been part of the intention it would be irresponsible to stay too long in wet clothes with the cold rain trickling down her back. She could feel the chill and was already looking forward to a warm shower.

  For the moment though something kept her in her tiny enclave. Some sixth sense hid her from the figure on the beach and as she watched he turned and climbed back up the dunes. He didn’t use the path but struggled through the tall grass. He bent now and again on the steeper dunes using his hands to help him struggle upwards. He reached the old stone wall and with a final turn to the beach and a quick scan around him he threw one leg over, hoisted himself onto the top and dropped into her garden.

  Her heart pounded. What on earth should she do? Did anyone have the right to walk into that land? But even if they did then why approach from the beach? Why not use the gate? She pulled out her phone to call Dolly. Her fingers fluttered on the keys but at the last moment she clicked the off button and replaced the tiny handset in her pocket.

  It wasn’t George. She would have recognized him surely, but had he sent someone? Had he found her? Yet how was it possible? She had been so very careful. Tears mingled with the rain running down across her face; tears of fear, shock and frustration. What on earth was she going to do now?

  Chapter 15

  Pauline pushed out from the dripping rocks. Instead of sliding and slithering down the streaming boulders she searched for handholds to pull herself up the front of the small cliff face. She didn’t want to be exposed on the beach.

  Water streamed into her face and her nails broke and split as she scrabbled for safe places to cling on with the ends of her fingers. Her feet kicked and probed for footholds.

  She pulled herself over the top and onto the sheep nibbled grass in the meadow. Scurrying to the sopping hedge she made her way down the edge of the field to the garden wall. She was able to crouch beneath it to make her way to the road. Mud sucked and pulled at her squelching shoes as the wind-blown rain slanted into her streaming eyes. The grey day had closed around her now and the delight of just a short while ago was lost in the desperate struggle of the moment.

  There was no sign of a car parked on the verge or in the gateway to the field. Now that she was near to the little cottage she was unsure what to do next. The man from the beach wasn’t visible in the garden but he could be round the other side of the building, in the front or indeed inside.

  She slid through the front gateway and ran in a half crouch across the path to bob under the little front window. There was no noise that she could make out save the splosh and bubble of the rain in the gutters and drain pipes. She raised her head far enough to be able to peer into the lounge. All seemed undisturbed and empty. At a half run she covered the distance down the side of the house and through the tall gate into the back garden. There was no-one obviously there and she strode across the flagged patio to where it was possible to see into the kitchen which was deserted and calm.

  The bolt was fastened on the kitchen door and so Pauline made her way to the front of the house. As she slipped the key into the lock the sound of an engine spun her around and from behind the bus stop two hundred yards up the road a dark car rolled out onto the road and drove past the cottage. She tried to peer inside but it sped past picking up speed and all it was possible to make out was a dark clad figure behind the rain splattered windscreen. As it sped off into the misty distance she stepped inside and slammed the door behind her. Was it possible that this was someone sent by George? Would he really go to the lengths of hiring someone? It was a ludicrous thought. Ordinary people like her weren’t followed by private detectives.

  She slid to th
e floor and let go a sighing breath. What the heck was going on? Her nerves were jangled, her shoes and clothes were filthy and wet and her soaking hair streamed into her eyes. Standing in the hallway she peeled off the sopping outfit and bundled it all together to throw into the kitchen. She would have a hot shower before she sorted out the laundry and stuffed her wet shoes with newspaper.

  With the hot water pounding her skin and steam billowing around her she made a huge effort to regain control of her emotions and unscramble the events of the last couple of hours.

  She was making a mountain out of a mole hill. A man walking on the beach, even in the rain, wasn’t suspicious. Hadn’t she done the very same thing herself? A man climbing over the garden wall wasn’t innocent behaviour however and a car hidden behind the bus shelter effectively on the pavement was decidedly odd. She would tell Dolly. There was very likely an innocent explanation. Probably it was someone they knew who used the garden as access. She must stop seeing danger everywhere she went.

  Chapter 16

  Clean and dressed in soft trousers and a sweatshirt Pauline dried her hair and sprayed herself with perfume. Her agitated nerves had settled in the warm steam and pounding spray and as she made her way to the kitchen she felt her world had pretty much righted itself again.

  There was still a puzzle to be solved but in reality it probably had nothing to do with her. No-one locally knew who she was and when she spoke to Dolly in the morning no doubt an explanation about the afternoon’s upset would be found and if not, well so be it. She had come to no harm and now felt foolish imagining her desperate dash across the meadow and the ducking and diving behind walls and under hedges.

  When her mind began replaying yet again the strange happenings she deliberately pushed them aside. There could be no solution found tonight and what she needed to do was put the worry away and try to have a pleasant evening.

  She needed comfort food and she needed wine. Cheese on toast would hit the spot and the bottle of red she had opened the day before.