Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(62)

‘Okay. That’s interesting. Did you also tell him to stop shoving white snow up his nose? Look . . . look . . . I had hoped to spare you this but I can’t. You think Marky is your blue-eyed boy, who can do no wrong, but the truth is I’ve been covering his arse since the moment he was born and I’m sick of doing it. He’s dragging this town down.’

‘Marky is what we’ve made him and he can’t help what he was born.’

‘Bullshit, you want to believe that, then you go ahead. He’s a weak-minded little shit.’

‘It’s not him, it’s Towan and Jago.’

‘Is it? Is it really, Eileen? Okay . . .’ He raised his palms in the air and shook his head. ‘Okay, say you’re right and all our son is is a sheep, following the black one in the herd. What then? All we’ve built up for ourselves is wasted on him?’

‘You’ve kept him too controlled. He doesn’t know how to be a man.’

‘Blaming me now?’

‘Yes, blaming you for not doing what you should have years ago.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Face the truth.’

‘Are you for real? Do you understand what you’re saying?’

‘Yes.’

‘No, no you fucking don’t. Get out of my way.’

Raymonds got into his car and drove the long way round to make sure no one saw him. He parked up below Kensa’s field where no one would see him.

Kensa was inside the caravan when he got there. She was staring out of the window and watched him approach.

‘Kensa?’ There was an agonized bewilderment in her expression. ‘Kensa?’

Raymonds stood by the open door. Kensa was still looking the opposite way, out of the window. ‘Kensa?’ She didn’t move. ‘Turn round.’ She breathed in – visibly: her shoulders rose and held on to it, then let it fall; her skinny arms seemed to shiver. She did as she was told. Her thoughts were still elsewhere. He could see it. She was full of panic. She was about to scream and not be able to stop.

‘Kensa,’ he said in a soft voice, and she responded accordingly. She nodded but she did not see him, her eyes remained focused on some faraway place. ‘Are you okay, Kensa?’ She didn’t answer but she focused on him for a few seconds then turned her head sharply away. He had seen her like this many times. She was on the brink of oblivion. She was crumbling on the inside. She would sit for days like this, staring out at her own thoughts.

‘Kensa, snap out of it.’ He looked at her cracked lips. So deep were the cracks that her lips had swollen around them. Dark shadows encased her sunken eyes. She wore a scarf on her head. She looked like some refugee hounded from one country to the next, bitten by despair and harshness. ‘Where’s Mawgan? She needs to get things organized. It’s freezing in here. Switch on the fire, Kensa, for Christ’s sake.’

As he talked his breath came out white. He stood and switched on the gas heater; its orange glow filled the gloom of the van.

Kensa didn’t look at Raymonds. Her eyes remained large and dark, glazed, almost milky, as they stared off into space.

‘Misty’s gone.’

‘He’s not gone far. You can fetch him after we have our talk.’

She turned and glared at Raymonds. ‘You have no right to take Misty.’

‘I have every right. You need to behave yourself, Kensa. People are saying you’re not fit to look after a horse like Misty. You’ve been talking to people you shouldn’t.’

‘What people? I ain’t said nothing.’

‘About the boy, about the night in 2000.’

‘I said nothing, I promise you. Please, sir, I promise, I’ll do anything, just give me my horse back.’

‘Okay, if you promise you’ll be good.’

‘I will.’

‘People are sick of seeing you the way you are. You can’t sit here all day, Kensa. You’re a young woman still. Get washed and dressed and I’ll take you out somewhere. Let’s get you a hot meal and we’ll talk about things. We’ll have fun like we used to.’

As he spoke he looked around the shabby van. He was thinking how it had been six months or more since the last time he came up to see Kensa. It had been too long. He needed to make her his priority from now on – he hadn’t realized how she wasn’t taking care of herself. As he was just thinking of how he was going to sort it in the short term, he saw Mawgan walking up the field towards the van. She didn’t know he was there, he could tell. She was walking, head down. Strong powerful legs that were shapely beneath her breeches. It struck him that it was about time he found her a husband to create a new generation in the village. Raymonds stood back a little out of first sight, as she stepped up and opened the door to the van.

‘Kensa? I got you some breakfast – a sausage roll from Cam’s café. It’s still hot. Just like he is . . .’ She laughed. ‘He sends his love.’ Her breath was steaming out, her face glowing with perspiration. She turned and saw Raymonds and registered the strange, malicious, smug expression on his face. She looked back at Kensa.

‘Everything all right?’

She didn’t answer.

‘She’s becoming ill again,’ said Raymonds. ‘She needs you to take better care of her. She’s skin and bone and she has almost nothing on.’ Raymonds could see beneath her thin layers her scrawny breasts, her ribs, and the loose skin on her stomach. ‘In this bitter cold!’