Final Cut(99)

‘Is this common?’

‘Yours is a particularly extreme example. But dissociation in order to avoid abuse is far from unheard of.’

I nod. I’ve asked the question for the benefit of the camera more than anything. Dr Olsen has already given me the statistics for my film, and she’s approached a few of her former patients to ask whether they’d consider appearing. Already two have said yes, and a third looks likely.

I’m pleased about this. I don’t know how much of my own story I’ll be able to use, in the end. Monica and I told Heidi Butler everything, or almost everything. Monica is awaiting trial, but the Crown Prosecution Service said just last week that, after a thorough investigation and review, they’ve decided not to press charges against me in the case of Sadie’s murder. The tape of Bryan’s confession was a big factor there, they explained, along with the fact that I was underage when it happened and subject to coercion and intimidation. Bryan has disappeared.

I realise now that Kat must’ve known Sadie was dead; perhaps David told her. That’s what she was telling me, when I showed her the clip of Sadie outside the caravan, the film I thought was of Daisy. That’s the girl they killed.

Yet I believed I was Sadie and the film was of Daisy. I must’ve made the same mistake every time I saw a photo of my friend, so stupidly convinced I knew who I was.

Dr Olsen and I talk some more, then I switch off the camera and thank her.

‘You’ll stay?’ she says. ‘I’m making dinner. It’s not much, but you’d be very welcome.’

I shake my head. I’m meeting Gavin later; he’s found a new restaurant he’s excited about showing me. It’s early days, but I think we’re falling in love.

‘That’d be great,’ I say. ‘But I can’t. I’m sorry.’

‘Never mind,’ she says. I pack up my equipment and she walks me to the door.

‘What happened to David?’ she says.

‘He recovered.’

‘Good. You still see him?’

‘No,’ I say.

I’ve only been back to Blackwood Bay once, when Gavin and I went to pick up my mother and bring her down south. I saw David briefly; I thanked him and told him I’d never forget what he’d done for me. For us.

‘You mustn’t feel guilty,’ she says, taking my hands once more. ‘You know that? Without you, it’d still be going on.’

I tell her I understand.

There was one more place I went, on that trip to Blackwood Bay. Sadie’s grave, the place she’d lain for ten years, wrapped in a plastic sheet. They’d never even looked for her body, because some corrupt policeman – someone else Bryan had dirt on – said she’d been seen hitchhiking and then made the report that she’d been found down in London and didn’t want to be contacted.

She’s in St Julian’s, now. At peace, I’d like to think.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said that morning. ‘For everything.’

I realised in that moment that I was glad I’d gone back to make my film in Blackwood Bay. If I hadn’t, she’d still be out on the moor. I’d still be Alex. Bryan would have succeeded by now in breaking Ellie and moved on to whoever would have been next. Monica would still be in love with him, choosing to believe the girls were complicit.

I sat for a while. The sun rose; the sea flashed in the distance. I wish I could bring her back, but I can’t. I was stupid to think I could.

I had a bunch of flowers – pink peonies – and I left them there for her.

‘Goodbye, Sadie,’ I said, and then, I came back home.





Acknowledgements


Thank you to Clare Conville and all at C+W, to Frankie Gray, Larry Finlay, Alison Barrow, Sarah Day and all at Transworld, to Jennifer Barth, Mary Gaule and all at HCUS, to Iris Tupholme and all at HC Canada and to Michael Heyward, David Winter and all at Text. Thank you to all my international publishers and translators.

Thank you to Maria A and Bill M, to Alice Keens-Soper, to Rebecca Kinnarney and to Sue C-J.

Thank you to Richard, Amy and Antonia, to Gabriel Cole, Sam Lear and Reuben Cole, and to Helene. Thank you to Charles, and in particular to Andrew Dell.

Finally, thank you to all my family and friends who’ve kept me (mostly) sane during the last few years.





Author’s Note


‘Blackwood Bay’ is a fictional location. It shares some of its geography and topography with Robin Hood’s Bay in North Yorkshire, but any resemblance ends there, and the events contained herein are entirely fictional.