The Lost Man(83)

‘Right.’

‘Cameron started flirting. Making comments. Kind of sexual stuff, you know? If I got uncomfortable he would act surprised, like I’d imagined it. Or seen something I wanted to see.’ She shook her head. ‘But I didn’t imagine it. Or want it.’

Katy’s fingers started plucking again at the bedcover. A long way from home, Nathan thought. Few local connections, if any. Backpackers might enjoy the flexibility of casual postings, but it left them vulnerable in other ways. Everyone knew that. Cameron knew that. And Nathan found himself thinking again of that other backpacker, more than twenty years ago, with her messy braid glowing orange by the flickering light of the campfire. The blunted edges of the memory had suddenly become cut-throat sharp, threatening to slip and slice him if not handled with care.

‘When I told Cameron that I wasn’t interested, he laughed,’ Katy was saying. ‘Like I was overreacting and couldn’t take a joke. Or we were both playing a game, and knew how it would end.’

The sharp edges did slip now, just a little. You’ve seen this before. A campfire. A flirtation. The air pungent with possibility.

‘I told Simon we should leave,’ Katy said. ‘But he didn’t want to. I thought about just heading off myself, but the car and the caravan belong to him. I couldn’t just leave him stranded. We’ve been together three years. And he loves me, he just couldn’t understand what the big deal was. He thought Cam was a great boss. It was good that he was friendly. Why couldn’t I take it as a compliment?’ She shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know what it was like, though. It was exhausting. Cameron was around every day. And he wasn’t finding it fun anymore. He still joked around but I could tell he was getting frustrated. Like he’d brought us here and now I wasn’t keeping up my end of the deal.’

You have seen this before. Not exactly, Nathan told himself. He stopped. Not exactly, but a version of it. More immature, far less refined, but the basic elements. An intense campfire flirtation. Patient persistence. A backpacker grateful for someone to talk to among a crowd of strangers. The gentle manipulation and focused attention that meant when she looked up, hours later, she had spoken to no-one else and made only one connection all night. The groaning weight of expectation. You have seen this before.

‘I’m sorry.’ Nathan was not sure who he was talking to.

Katy looked down and he realised there were tears in her eyes. ‘I was homesick and lonely and miles from anywhere. I felt completely worn down. Everyone wanted something from me. Simon wanted me to keep Cameron happy, Cameron wanted me to keep him happy. I was so sick of it, and eventually –’ She dragged the back of her hand across her face. ‘Eventually, it was just easier to say yes than no. So I did. I let him fuck me on the beanbag in his daughters’ schoolroom. Six times in total.’

The room was quiet for a long time, and Nathan could hear muffled voices in the hall.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, definitely talking to Katy this time.

‘It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I’m the one who gave in.’ Her shoulders slouched. ‘And after all that, it didn’t even help things. Cameron seemed disgusted with me, or with himself. It didn’t stop him coming back for more, but I think he felt ashamed for five minutes and he blamed me for that. And then –’ She gestured down at her flat stomach and shook her head. ‘If he wasn’t happy before, he definitely wasn’t happy about this.’

‘When did you tell him?’

‘As soon as I realised myself. About two weeks before he –’ She swallowed. ‘Before he died. He was angry. Told me I had to get rid of it. Which was fine by me, there’s no way I wanted this either. That’s what he was talking to me about on the morning he went missing. He’d got me an appointment at the big medical centre next week.’ Her eyes were clear now. ‘That’s why I’m sure he was planning to come back, though. He was telling me I had to go through with the appointment. I was going to anyway, but if he was about to disappear, why would he care?’

It was a good question, Nathan thought, although it at least answered another one. ‘The medical centre is the one in St Helens?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you had somewhere to stay up there?’

‘A couple of nights in one of the hotels.’

‘And Cameron called to arrange that?’ She nodded and Nathan pictured the office phone bill. Two calls to St Helens, the week before Cameron died.

‘And Simon definitely doesn’t know?’ he said.

‘Not yet.’ She pressed her lips into a line. ‘Not at all, I hope.’

‘What will you tell him about the appointment?’

‘Nothing. I’ll make something up. He’s squeamish. He won’t ask for details. But I need to get it done. He’s not a complete idiot, either. If he finds out, he’ll finish with me.’

Nathan opened his mouth, then shut it again. The despair on Katy’s face made him open it again.

‘Would that be so bad?’ He shrugged when she looked surprised. ‘Your call, but I’m not sure you owe Simon anything.’

‘We’ve been together for three years.’ She held up her left hand. ‘We’re engaged.’

‘So what? People can change their minds. My ex-wife and I were married for longer than that before she left.’ He gave her a small smile. ‘She’s doing great, by all accounts. Never been happier.’