Chapter 3 - Late Summer
Kim woke up early, the August sun forcing her to consciousness. How she would have loved to stay asleep, never to have to face the pain of reality. She slid a hand over the empty sheet on the other side of the double bed, feeling the space, as if checking for the hundredth time that her husband had really left her.
"Steve - why? Just tell me why, then I can move on. Probably I can't move on, I don't know, but if I never know why, how can I tell where I went wrong? Was it me, was our marriage so awful for you, that you couldn't even tell me? I thought we were reasonably happy, that I knew you....did I never know you?"
She stared at the ceiling for a while, then heaving a deep sigh dragged herself upright and sat with her elbows on her knees, slouched in misery. If she didn't get any better soon, she'd have to get something from the doctor to make her sleep more and numb her sensibilities. She was good enough at her job to be able to do it practically without thinking, which was just as well - since Steve left without a word ten months ago, she'd been like a zombie in the office. Her colleagues had spent months tiptoeing round her and being hesitant to laugh in her presence or treat her normally. Still, as Responsible Finance Officer of the Parish Council, she had to see people every day, when she would have rather hidden away from the world.
The worst day had been that horrible Thursday, five days into his absence, when the police had called round to say they had news. She remembered stepping back from the front door, knowing from the officers' faces and manner that it was not a report of an amnesia victim, or any of the other acceptable stories she'd conjured up to explain Steve's absence and allow them to continue their married life happily. She'd taken the officers into the tidy lounge, kept immaculate as if that would be the way to keep Steve happy when he walked back through the door.
The older of the two men had delivered the news, with just the right mixture of delicacy and compassion. She couldn't fault his mode of approaching such a difficult topic, but once he had spoken she wanted to jump up and pummel him, and scream, "No! No! It's all rubbish! It's impossible!" But all she did was ask if they were sure they had the right story, the right man, the right name. "Yes, I'm sorry Mrs Coulthard, we have checked and it appears your husband's friend left at the same time. As you know, the details your husband gave you about the job he was going to look at were false, and his friend gave a similar false story to his mother. She is devastated too, and hasn't heard from her son either. It seems she was unaware that her son was, er, involved in a relationship. With a man, I mean."
"But I knew that - everyone at university knew Joey Fisher was gay. You don't understand, that's why my husband wasn't a close friend of his - it wasn't his scene at all. I just don't believe that Steve was?.was?.that way inclined. For heaven's sake, he was faithful to me but he used to notice a gorgeous girl - I knew he did - so?.no, this - there must be something wrong. Will you let me talk to Joey's mother?"
"We can't give out her details, I'm afraid, so unless you already have the number we would not be able to put you in touch. I'm not sure it would be a good idea just now, anyway, as Mrs Fisher is very shocked and, I would say, in denial. She could react badly if she was contacted by the wife of her son's....." He left Kim to supply whatever word she liked, but she was thinking that utter denial was her own reaction, never mind Joey's mother.
"Do you have anyone, a relative maybe, who could come and be with you? You've had a shock. Can we make you a cup of tea?" She supposed from this that the officers wanted to get out of this awkward scene as quickly as possible.
"No, I'm all right." She thought inwardly, "I'll never be alright again, after what you've just told me, but I'm English and polite and don't want to waste police time."
They had left, and she had stood stiff and upright at the door watching them get in their car and drive away. She hadn't accepted the story then and didn't accept it now, but her mind had gone over it a million times. Doubts had led to fear, memories had led back to denial. Round and round it went, impossible to get past.
The one thing that made her most doubt her own judgement was a series of mysterious phone calls her husband had taken and made over the weeks before he left. Especially disturbing was the one where she'd overheard him saying the ominous words: 'But what if this is wrong? Kim will never forgive me......it's such a big step, everyone will think I've gone off my rocker.....' When she'd questioned him about it, he'd jumped in such a guilty fashion that she had suspected an affair. He'd then refused to answer her, but his halting explanation, when he did give it, made some sort of sense. He'd told her that Joey Fisher had been giving him insider information on an exciting opportunity to purchase land at a ridiculously low price which could later be sold for a small fortune for development. Steve and Joey had both taken a Geology degree at University, but Steve found he was a 'people' person and he ended up teaching Geology instead of digging up rocks. She knew Joey worked in land surveying, because they had run into him in the supermarket outside the nearest town about two months before, and had caught up with each others' career moves.
Kim was sure that what Joey was doing must be illegal. She had chastised Steve for even contemplating getting involved in any dubious dealings, and he had readily promised he would forget all about it. Later she had wondered if his quick acceptance meant he had lied to her, but her experience of men's behaviour in the course of an affair extended only to her friends' accounts; as far as she could see Steve was not using more aftershave, bringing her 'guilt' presents, or staying unaccountably late at work. He was being his usual self, except that she would sometimes catch him with a worried frown, staring out of the window. Once he'd turned round with a look of intense sadness on his face, and wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, without a word.
He had definitely been worried about something, and it had been serious, as the secretive phone calls had shown, but she had assumed that he would tell her when and if he felt he could. She was used to him worrying about his students, taking on their problems, and sometimes he had to keep confidentiality. She had got into the habit of knowing there were some things she could not be told, and felt it was best - what she didn't know she couldn't accidentally let slip.
Now Kim replayed that fatal phone call over and over in her mind - 'it's such a big step' - what, spending a few thousand of their savings on a speculative land purchase? 'Everyone will think I've gone off my rocker...' - why would anyone know their private business? Now it was too late, she could see that his explanation didn't make sense. Still, his attitude to her didn't feel like the behaviour of a man contemplating such a drastic change of lifestyle. It was true he had talked more in the weeks before he left about looking for a new job, and had asked her if she fancied moving right away from Pebbleton, which puzzled her. Then he had told her about the job possibility in Northern Ireland, a planned new Geology department where vast sums of money were going to be spent on equipment he could only dream of at his present post.
She had felt her heart sink at the prospect of leaving Pebbleton, her friends, her job and the house she had worked so hard to make home, but she was not about to deny Steve his dream job. So on the Friday night she had ironed his best shirts, packed his suitcase, laughed with him as they tried to weigh it on the bathroom scales, and very early on the Saturday morning she waved him off in the car sent to take him to the airport. Just a long weekend, then they'd discuss everything. All his expenses had been paid, he had said, and he seemed so flattered to have been head-hunted like this - out of thousands of possible candidates, they had sought him out and made the first move. He was to go and discuss the department's design, and look around County Down to see if he'd like to relocate there. The last words they had spoken were so ordinary - "Got your tickets?" "Picking them up at the check-in desk. 'Bye, love, take care."
Just where he'd disappeared on the journey had never become clear, but no Steve Coulthard ever got on a plane that day, and on investigati
on she had found no new Geology departments planned in any educational establishment in County Down. She had not notified the police until two days after his expected return date, because she was busy phoning every place she could think of and getting no sense out of anyone - the airline hadn't heard of him, the hotel he was supposed to be booked into had no record of him, the man he had gone to meet did not exist. The police had checked everything themselves, concerned that neither his credit card nor debit card had been used. They were getting serious in their search until they got a break on that horrible Thursday.
How they had acquired the break was almost as distasteful as the information itself. After a day or two, letting the news sink in, she had worked up the courage to go to the Police Station and ask the Inspector how they had found these things out. She had felt her neck go cold as he told her that during routine questioning of various contacts in Steve's phone records from the days before his disappearance, one Mr Massington had reluctantly disclosed what he knew. It was Councillor Dennis Massington, familiar to her from her job at the Council. He admitted that Steve had talked to him, and that he had been distressed about his sexual ambivalence. He said that Steve had been seeing 'a boyfriend, someone he'd known at university'. Kim could not understand why Massington had been the one Steve confided in - she had dealings with him at work, but had no idea Steve knew him beyond one or two meetings at staff social functions. Still, that had led the police to check further on Joey's whereabouts, and so the story had been put together. The police were satisfied, and the investigation was at an end.
Councillor Massington had been very kind to her, apologising for failing to tell her anything sooner. He said he'd hoped Steve was just going through a period of confusion, and that he'd never dreamed he would act on his feelings. Massington offered to make any help available to her that she needed. His was a decent approach, unlike her boss at the time, Gerald Chewter. He had left it no more than three weeks before he made indecent comments to her about her 'needs', offering to be available to fulfil any such. At first she was too stunned and appalled to react. "Pity," he'd continued with a leer, "if I'd known which way the land lay with your husband, I'd have offered sooner - a woman like you deserves a proper man." She firmly repulsed his persistent advances, and he became abusive and hinted that her job would be threatened if she didn't play his game. She was livid, and went straight to Dennis Massington to report every word Chewter had uttered.
It turned out that he had been accused of sleazy behaviour around other female staff in previous years, and after several very embarrassing interviews and meetings, she was thankful to hear that he was resigning 'of his own accord'. His elderly mother was dying of cancer, so it was felt that no further action should be taken, in case any publicity reached her. Chewter had duly gone, to general relief, and James Goswell had replaced him. She supposed that other members of staff told him her dismal story, and James had been a model of discretion. She did her job, he did his, and no private lives were discussed.
Kim arrived at Southcliff Hall just a little late, as usual these days. She had to force herself everywhere, lingering in the safety of her house until the last minute. "Morning," she called as she passed each colleague, keeping perpetual motion until she reached the sanctuary of her office and could bury her head in her in-tray. Only Sue was privy to her darkest moments, and often scooped her up for lunch when she was having a really bad day. Sue made her laugh, which seemed impossible sometimes.
At ten-thirty she had to go through the personnel paperwork for a new member of staff. Across the car park in the old stable block lay the Tourism Office, where Eve Thornton ruled supreme. Eve had persuaded the Council to allow her a trainee, and such was the force of Eve's enthusiasm for her work that she had carried her point. Eve was an eternal optimist, coming up with endless schemes to promote Pebbleton as a desirable place to visit and live - she believed it was heaven on earth, and her zeal stemmed from this delusion. More realistic people saw the cracks in the social structure, and could not ignore the relentless tide of mindless vandalism and criminal behaviour creeping from the nearby town into every area of village life. However, now that the Development was under way, it seemed Eve's vision had been vindicated. At ten-fifteen Kim saw from her office window Eve's flowing auburn curls bouncing in the sunlight as she shepherded her new recruit across the car park. The new girl looked a bit dazed, but that was understandable - Eve could talk at incredible speed and few could keep up with her train of thought.
After being introduced to all her new colleagues, the youngster was brought into Kim's office looking bewildered. "Sit down, Melissa", she kindly told her. "This is just to get a few details for your staff record - you know, boring stuff but we have to know who to call if you're ill, that sort of thing." Eve stood in the room, twitching in agitation. "Don't wait if you have things to get on with, Eve - I can send Melissa back to you when we're done". Eve looked pleased. "Great, I can get the flyer finished for the Dance Marathon," she gabbled, pirouetted and left the room with grace and speed.
"I suppose Eve gave you the tour," Kim asked. Melissa looked a bit overawed, but then spoke up. "She showed me the big room where the Council meets. She said there was a hidden tunnel in the basement, where smugglers used to bring stuff up from the caves, but we didn't go down and look. It sounds rather exciting...." Kim did not miss the wistful pleading in the girl's voice - she too had been intrigued by the tunnel when she first came. It was just a brick-lined tube, some twelve feet beneath ground level, running parallel to Southcliff Hall end wall. A side opening connected it to one of the rooms in the basement, but only a few yards of it could be accessed from there. It had been blocked off years ago, for safety. It had reminded her of a small scale London Underground tunnel.
"We only use the storage areas in the basement to keep old archives - everything recent is stored up here. We've even crept into the digital age, and started keeping records on memory sticks. Still, it is your first day....."
Kim grinned conspiratorially at the timid face in front of her, and made a decision. She had the keys to the archive room where the tunnel could be seen at the far end. It wouldn't hurt to give the poor lass a break from Eve's non-stop barrage of new information. "Let's finish this form, and I'll show you - I hope you won't expect much, it's just a hole with two dead ends really!"
Melissa smiled shyly. She was fresh from school, full of knowledge about the latest applications on mobile phones and sporting an enlarged texter's thumb to prove it. Judging by her application form, Kim doubted that she could spell any word correctly if it could be shortened, and feared for future communications from the Tourism Department.
It was one extreme to the other with technology in the Council. Kim had spent months persuading her older colleagues that email was quicker and more reliable than hand-written messages which might never get delivered if they fell under the desk. Now she herself would have to translate the abbreviated text-speak of a younger generation. All she knew was that 'LOL' meant either 'Laughing out Loud' or 'Lots of Love' - she supposed the context of the relationship made the meaning obvious. Sighing, she wondered if this reluctance to learn a new 'language' meant that she was getting older.....dragging herself back to the present, and passing the form to Melissa to sign, she opened the desk drawer to take out the huge bunch of Hall keys.
As they left the accounts office Paula was coming up the stairs to see Kim. She looked miserable, and Kim asked Melissa to wait a moment for her in the staff room. Taking Paula back inside her office and shutting the door, she sat down and waited. "Well, I've got my expenses claim here," Paula offered. "OK," Kim smiled, "and have you talked to James yet?"
"No," Paula admitted. "I don't know how to begin."
"Paula! Good thing Sue's on holiday, she'd go nuts. It's been weeks! You must have seen him loads of times!"
Paula grimaced. "I know, I know - I've seen him at meetings once or twice, that's all.
It's not really possible to talk privately with everyone else there."
"How has he been acting around you?" Kim wanted to know. She liked her boss and wanted to be sure that he was as decent as he appeared. Her confidence in her own ability to judge men was at an all-time low, so exonerating James seemed all the more important. In a way, both Paula and Sue had also been affected by Steve's disappearance. They had thought highly of Kim's husband and found their own confidence shattered when he had suddenly left. It seemed impossible to trust any man, if even the seemingly straightforward ones could hide so much.
Paula considered the question. "Normal, I think - like nothing's happened. He does try to talk to me sometimes, just casual stuff, you know - but I've felt awkward, so I expect he doesn't want to try anymore."
"This is daft," Kim said in a definite tone. "Sue will be back Saturday, and she'll be on your case if you don't sort it out. For goodness sake, get it out in the open and discuss it - or it will drive you apart completely. You were getting on so well with him before this."
"Yes, I know, you're right. I just need the right opportunity to talk to him, that's all," Paula promised.
"Well, he's in his office now, I think, so just go in and tell him about the message you got. See how he reacts. If he gets defensive, he did make the call. If he doesn't know what you're talking about, then there's your answer."
Paula looked nervous, but agreed to give it a try. Kim arranged to have lunch with her the next day to find out what happened, and then got up to take Melissa on the tour. She told Paula where they were going.
"Wow, I didn't know there was a tunnel down there! Can I come too?" said Paula.
"Oh, no, you don't, my girl. Get yourself into James' office!" Kim laughed, and hurried off to the staff room to find Melissa.
Five minutes later the two of them carefully negotiated the wooden staircase leading down into the basement. It was much cooler down here, despite the heat wave above ground. The stairs led into a wide area with several locked rooms leading off.
"That's the old boiler room, you don't need to see that - that's one of the archive rooms - here's the one we want. As far as I can remember, there are a few funny things in here too. Old advertising hoardings, and a stuffed bird or two from the old museum. I don't suppose you remember the museum? It gave me the creeps, to be honest. I was taken there once as a child - on holiday, you know - and my mother says I got really upset. There was a display of dressed-up kittens, stuffed of course, posed in a stupid scene - a cricket match I think it was. They'd been drowned, too many of them to keep, I guess. Apparently I cried buckets and she had to take us home. My brothers thought it was great, disgusting little beasts. You wouldn't get that sort of thing now, there'd be an outcry. I must have been ahead of my time!"
Melissa smiled dutifully, and eagerly peered round Kim as she tried to push the door open. It had unlocked smoothly, but she found she had to shoulder it with all her might to get it open. Suddenly it gave way, and she almost fell into the room. In front of them was an aisle leading between metal shelving units, stacked with paraphernalia. "Looks a mess, I'd better see if someone can tidy up down here," Kim muttered. Some boxes on the lower shelves stuck out at an angle, and she gingerly pushed one back with her foot. "Rather messy in here - be careful," she warned.
They picked their way carefully towards the end of the room, where an arched opening in the far wall showed gloomy darkness beyond. "What's that?" Melissa gasped, pointing at a rusting metal article on a shelf above her.
"A man-trap," said Kim, turning to look. "The local landowners used to set them, out in the woods, to catch poachers. It's illegal now - don't touch it!" Kim warned, horrified, as Melissa reached up towards the brutal object. As her arm shot out to restrain the girl's hand, and she knocked another exhibit. It was a stuffed eagle with outspread wings, balanced on a log base. It rocked, and toppled over onto Kim, its glassy eyes and vicious beak bearing down on her as if it was descending on prey. She shrieked, and flung up her arms, elbowing the edge of a tray on the opposite shelf. The tray tipped up and spilled its contents - a collection of old coloured glass bottles. Most fell noisily on the floor and smashed, but one hit Melissa on the foot. She yelped in pain, and flapped her hands to fend off the eagle which was now stuck sideways, caught in between the two of them and balancing by the ends of its wide pinions between the shelves.
"Let's get out of here," Kim urged, desperate to get away from the stuffed bird, which made her feel quite ill. She ran to the far end of the row of shelves and, ignoring the tunnel opening, ran round to the side of the room where another aisle gave her an escape route. Melissa hopped about, clutching her foot. Kim helped her back to the door, and after half-pushing the girl outside, she pulled the door shut and tried to lock it. It was too difficult to close, however, so she gave up and pulled it to.
She looked at Melissa's foot, but it was not bleeding. "Can you walk?" she asked. "Yeah, I fink it's just a bruise," Melissa replied, forgetting she was on her first day in a new job.
"OK, let's get you upstairs and we'll have a better look."
On the way back to her office she stopped to ask Harry in the Amenities Department if someone could tidy up in the second archive room. She explained what had happened. "It was a mess, though, before I made it worse. I wondered if someone had been larking around in there. I can't imagine the Museum people left it like that."
"OK, it won't get done this week, though. My lads are busy," Harry laughed. "This is summer, and those parks don't maintain themselves, you know." Harry and his parks were the stuff of legends, and they certainly did him credit. "Maybe I'll take a look tomorrow," he offered.
However, Harry liked Kim, and did what he could to accommodate her request. When his team returned that afternoon, he took out his keys to the basement and asked Ben to take a look. Ben went in, grumbled a bit at the disorder, then picked up the eagle and put it back on the shelf. It held no terrors for him. He had forgotten to bring a broom to sweep up the broken bottles, and noticed a collection of old birch brooms leaning against the far wall by the tunnel archway. 'Witches' broomsticks,' he thought. 'Might work.' Stepping over the broken glass he approached the tunnel entrance and noticed something - it looked as if a heavy object had been dragged from the aisle between the shelves right into the tunnel, leaving a band of clean floor. Either side of the clean section, dust and debris formed two lines, with a few small items knocked from the lower shelves as the object had passed through the aisle. Ben peered into the gloom of the tunnel. He looked left and saw nothing, then he looked right. He rubbed his eyes and looked again into the shadows. Then he turned tail and fled upstairs to fetch Harry.
Ten minutes later they waved a police car into the car park, and within half an hour blue and white tape marked 'POLICE - DO NOT CROSS' began to spread like bindweed around Southcliff Hall.