The Hike(53)

Cat blew out a long breath. ‘If I’m dispensing the truths here, I expect you to do me the same honour.’

Shit. He felt trapped now, but, given the circumstances, didn’t think he had much choice. Plus, he was actually desperate to know what this was all about. An illicit affair seemed too cheap for the effort that had gone into bumping off the surplus partners. ‘Seems fair.’

‘Ginny somehow convinced my parents to change their will. They left everything to her. She was supposed to allocate something to me. She showed me a letter, where there was this sum of money. It was meant to represent half of the house . . . But she got everything else.’

Interesting. ‘Your parents had the house valued, then? They definitely wanted this new will put in place?’

Cat nodded. ‘Ginny spun them some line. Well, lots of lines. It had been going on for years. Behind my back. Slowly eroding their trust in me, through mistruth and misdirection. Discouraging them from questioning me on things.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess if you feed someone enough bullshit, with nothing to contradict it, eventually they’ll swallow it.’

This felt like a direct dig at him, but he let it go.

‘I just can’t imagine your parents going for all this. They weren’t stupid people, Cat . . .’

She whirled around to face him. ‘Are you calling me a liar, Paul?’

‘No. Of course not. It’s just . . .’ He let his sentence trail off. Was he calling her a liar? He’d known her parents, or at least he’d thought he had . . . Of course things had taken a turn for the worse for them, when the economy collapsed and they’d had to re-evaluate their import-export business. But to be coerced into changing their will was a bizarre concept that he was struggling to process. Had stupid little Ginny really had the power to make that happen? Maybe she’d been brighter than anyone had given her credit for.

Cat was staring at him. ‘Well?’ she said, her eyes like steel. ‘I think it’s your turn now.’

Paul swallowed. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Give me a minute.’ The shadows in the room had shifted. He glanced around, taking in the scene outside the dirty window and the half-opened door. The sun had risen, casting a muted mustardy glow. The cluster of ferns lining the ramshackle path had changed from black to dark green.

They could leave now. They could make their way back down the mountain. To their lives that had been irreparably changed by this trip. Their new lives, then. Whatever those might be. He stood up, lifting one of the rucksacks and throwing it on to his back, wincing inwardly at the pain. ‘Let’s get going. I’ll tell you everything. I promise.’ He forced a smile so hard that it hurt his cheeks. ‘Then you can tell me about your plan to get us out of this mess.’





Forty-Three

SUNDAY, EARLY MORNING

They took the path towards the signpost, walking in silence. Cat knew the way instinctively, after following the path to the house the night before in the dark. In the morning sun, she realised that the path was quite well trodden, not as deeply hidden in the woods as she’d imagined. Something fluttered in her chest. People might be here soon. They might go to the house. Despite the state of it, maybe people did use it for shelter regularly. The place would be covered in Tristan’s blood. His DNA. Traces of all of them. They had to hurry. At the signpost, they turned right, heading towards the descent.

‘Are you sure this is the right way?’ Paul said. His voice was thin. Pained. The adrenaline that had got him through their earlier exertions gone now. Cat felt weak, too. She would love nothing more than to curl into a ball and sleep. But she was determined. With all she’d been through to get to this point, she wasn’t giving up now.

‘I’m sure.’ She pushed a couple of branches out of the way and walked through the gap in the trees that led to the way down. Despite the morning sun, it was dark and cool on this part of the mountain, and she was glad they hadn’t tried to attempt it last night. Although, if they had, might Tristan still be alive? That would bring its own problems. Having Paul back on the scene was causing her to have to think through things in ways she’d never envisaged.

She made her way down the first part of the slope, and then saw the next part, and stopped dead.

Paul came up beside her. ‘What’s the matter?’

Cat pointed.

Paul sighed. ‘Right. OK. Well, to be honest, I’m not sure this is anything worse than we’ve already endured. I’ll go down first, and you can follow. That means I’ll be beneath you if you slip.’

Cat noted the heavy chain that was bolted to a rock, and to other rocks further down. The path underneath was thick, churned mud. The gradient was Black Run level. If only they had skis. It was clearly enough of a hazard that someone had seen fit to attach the chain, to help guide people down.

That flip in her stomach again. She’d forgotten about before. The dizziness. That strange feeling low in her abdomen. Ginny’s taunts. If there was a baby in there, then it was making itself known once again. She sucked in a breath, let it out slowly. She could do this. It was so close to the finish line now. Just one final push . . .

Paul walked carefully down the slope backwards, gripping the chain. Practically abseiling. She thought of Tristan then. His equipment in his bag. Him scaling down to find Ginny . . . and then what had Paul said? He’d found her and pushed her further? He couldn’t know that for sure. He was only guessing that Ginny had fallen on a ledge because he’d fallen on a ledge, and Ginny’s necklace – well, that could’ve fallen off regardless, couldn’t it? She closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing them tight. She didn’t want to think that Tristan could be so cruel. So . . . evil.