Final Cut(68)

‘But why sneak up here? Why not tell her? She’s your sister! What happened?’

He sighs. ‘We argued, after Zoe went. The two of them were frantic. I took some time off work, came and stayed with them. I was trying to be supportive. I thought it was what they wanted.’

‘It wasn’t?’

‘I dunno. We got on fine at first. But then … Zoe still didn’t come home, and everyone started painting this picture of the perfect life she had, of what fantastic parents they’d been.’

‘They weren’t?’

‘Well, they were no worse than most. But I’d seen them rowing, one Christmas a couple of years before she disappeared. It kicked off at Mum’s. Yelling and screaming, they were—’

‘In front of Zoe?’

‘In front of all of us. They said it was a one-off, that everything was fine. But Zoe came to see me afterwards. She said she was sick of it. She didn’t know what to do. They were arguing all the time – her mum was convinced her dad was having an affair. The usual stuff.’

‘Did your sister tell you any of this?’

‘No. Not even after Zoe went. It was all everything’s perfect and we were all getting on fine and she had no idea why Zoe had started to run wild and … well, it seemed like she was more worried about not getting the blame for Zoe being unhappy than actually finding her and bringing her home.’

‘And you told her that?’

He smiles wryly. ‘Let’s just say it came up in conversation. They weren’t too happy. Sean asked me what it’d got to do with me anyway. Pretty much implied I’d been … well … y’know?’

‘What?’

‘Too close to Zoe, shall we say. Only they’re not the words he used. Pretty much said it was my fault she’d run away.’

I hesitate. ‘I don’t think they believe that now.’

He grimaces, then gazes up towards the ceiling.

I regard him for a moment. ‘Maybe you should speak to them. Jody was pretty difficult, but I think she wants to talk. Maybe—’

He turns his gaze back to me. ‘Not to me, she doesn’t. And I don’t really want to talk to her, either. I just want to find out what happened to Zoe, and Daisy, and Sadie. And Ellie, now. And make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.’

His eyes glisten. I want to believe him, but can I? I imagine myself walking away, him a few steps behind. A blow to the head and I’m down. No one knows I’m here. No one cares. It’d be that easy.

‘Where were you?’ I say.

‘When?’

‘Today. When Ellie came back.’

He stares at me. ‘You think I had something to do with it?’

I don’t, I think. Not really. But I’ve been mistaken before and I need to be sure.

‘So?’

‘Alex, I was out looking for Ellie. Like everyone else.’

I retreat.

‘But—’

‘Ask Bryan,’ he says. ‘Liz. Any of them. When they came back, I stayed out, on the moors. Trying to find her.’

He steps towards me, his arms out. ‘Believe me.’ His face is pleading, imploring. ‘Look,’ he says. He holds up his phone. ‘I filmed it. In case it was, you know. Useful. For your film.’

He presses Play. A shot of the moor, blanketed in darkness.

‘Could’ve been taken by anyone. Any time.’

He shows me the timestamp. An hour ago. ‘Look.’ He scrolls through the clip. Right at the end his face flashes into view.

I lift my head, about to speak, though to say what, I’m not sure. Sorry, perhaps, though I don’t feel it.

‘Don’t lie to me again,’ I say.

He shakes his head. ‘I won’t.’ He looks up at me, and something hovers in his expression, just beyond reach. It’s as if he’s considering something, weighing his options, deciding how to reply. But in the end all he says is, ‘If you promise me the same.’





40


Gavin brings me coffee, then leaves. It’s early, before light. Loss wraps itself around me, as if I’ve left something behind but can’t remember what. Something important and irreplaceable. I lie in bed, thinking of Daisy’s mother withering in her tiny room, her confused brain turning to fantasy, and of my own, lying in the cold ground, rotting to nothing. I think of Zoe, gone, perhaps for good, her room still waiting for her, her parents trying to keep it together, to remain optimistic in the face of the evidence. How do they go on? I think. How do any of us?

Then there’s Ellie, returned from who knows where. Am I right about it being a punishment, or was it an attempt at getting away and, if so, from what? On the way downstairs, I glance at the barometer. The needle hasn’t budged; it sits stubbornly between Rain and Stormy, as if it’s a warning. I know that all it’s doing is measuring air pressure, or humidity, or temperature, or perhaps a combination of all three. It’s just science, that’s all; there’s no mystery, nothing supernatural. Perhaps it’s broken. I think of David, coming into my bedroom. Perhaps it’s me that’s broken.

I pick up my laptop. As I do, it pings with a new submission.

Play.

A shot of the sky. There are trees, way over in the distance. It’s blue, a clear day. Sunny, but the shadows are long and the trees have shed their leaves. Winter, and something about the film makes me think it’s years old. A bright, clear winter’s day. As the camera turns a caravan flashes into view. Pegasus.