“Hello? Hello, can you hear me?” The only response to her desperate call was the roll of waves and the distant cry of a single gull making for his roost.
She didn’t want to be responsible for the death of anyone! It was unthinkable! More tears, yet more, and she wiped them away on the back of her hand and admitted to herself it wasn’t possible to reach him and that he was beyond help.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but you hurt me. I wish you hadn’t hurt me!” Leaving the whispered words to fade into the breeze she turned and staggered back towards the beach. She slipped and scrambled down the rocky side, opening old wounds and rubbing fresh grazes onto her hands and arm. But she felt none of it, for her soul was broken, her feelings were dead.
Was it possible that it had been just one day since he had forced her along the beach? Had driven her terrified and shaking and with no idea of the horror that she would endure and the tragedy that would unfold? She trudged past the road and to the dunes where he had hidden her bag and coat under some fallen pine branches. It was no surprise to find that they had gone. No great loss; a cheap phone, a few pounds in her change purse. It didn’t matter.
At the cottage the little gate was ajar and she pushed through and up the sandy path to the kitchen door and there she stopped. What was she thinking? She must go to the farm, call the police, tell someone what had happened.
Could she bear it?
If she didn’t what then? There was another option: just leave the body to be found by a passing fisherman or an unsuspecting dog walker. Could she expunge this event from her history and pretend it had never happened? If she called the police they would question her and dig into her past. Perhaps they would find her account of the events as unbelievable as the motor cyclist had done? There were two distinct paths, one – the hardest – was to get help and face the consequences. The other was to run again, to fly from the terrible day and lock it away in the back of her mind and live with it.
She raised her hand to the door and realised that she had no key. If it was locked then she would have to go to Dolly and ask to be given access. Perhaps the choice wasn’t to be hers to make after all.
Chapter 26
“Dolly, I’m sorry to disturb you but I’ve lost my key.”
“Oh good heavens, Pauline! What’s happened?” Dolly stretched out her arms in automatic response to the figure standing in front of her. Then she hesitated; the other woman looked so damaged that she didn’t know where it would be possible to touch without causing harm.
“I’m fine.” Pauline tried to smile as the lie left her lips. “It’s just that I’ve lost my key and I really need to get into the house. I’m sorry… I’ll pay for the locks to be replaced.”
“Locks? What are you talking about? What’s happened? Come in for Pete’s sake! Come in. Can you manage? Have you been in an accident? Oh no, you haven’t been mugged? You’ve been mugged! Oh you poor thing. Come on in, I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No, no please. I’m fine.”
“Fine? You certainly are not fine! Have you seen yourself? Your poor face! No, you need an ambulance, and the Police. I’ll get the police. Come in… will you just come in?”
Pauline gingerly climbed the three old stone steps. Holding onto the door for support she made her way into the narrow hallway of the farmhouse.
Dolly took her arm and led her towards the open door in the cream painted wall. “Now, first of all, where are you hurt? Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?”
“No, no, I’m sorry to disturb your evening, really I am. I just want to get into the house and have a bath actually…”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t go off on your own. Let me at least get you a cup of tea and help you to clean up those wounds.”
“Wounds.” Pauline raised a hand and touched her swollen lips. The aches and soreness that she felt had become so much a part of every movement that she had given no thought to her appearance. “Is it bad? Does it look bad?”
“Well, I’m sorry, but yes. Whoever did this… Did someone do this? You haven’t told me; what happened to you? Was it an accident or were you mugged?”
An escape was presented to her. In just those few words, several possibilities opened up and she searched for an answer that would be so much better than the truth. Then like a grey blanket exhaustion and defeat descended and she was just too tired and battered to begin to form the lies.
“No, I haven’t been mugged. Oh Dolly, there’s a man, dead. I killed him.” As the words became reality her shattered spirit finally unwound into tears of fear and horror. Dolly flopped onto the settee beside her and wrapped her in a gentle hug as she sobbed. Great wracking gulps convulsed her trembling body. The other woman crooned soft, disbelieving murmurs.
“Now, now come on, come on. Don’t be silly, calm down. Hush, hush.”
As she regained control Pauline pushed back and took hold of both of Dolly’s hands in hers. She drew in a deep, steadying breath. “I have Dolly! I couldn’t help it. I think he was going to kill me, I really do, and I pushed him, oh God. He’s in the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.”
Uncertainty and disbelief met her gaze now. “What happened? Did he take you away? Oh no, no… have you been raped? Oh Pauline!”
“No, no. I haven’t… he didn’t. No. I don’t know what to do next though.”
“Well, we’ll have to have the police. You do see that, don’t you? If he took you away and there was an accident or… well… whatever happened, you have to tell them. They won’t blame you, I’m sure they won’t. Apart from that you know we have to get the coastguard, get him back. We can’t risk someone finding him. Think how awful that would be? No, we must get some help.” The sensible schoolteacher like part of her took over now and Dolly stood and reached for a soft woollen blanket that covered a nearby chair. She wrapped it around Pauline’s shivering shoulders.
“Now, I’m going to make you some hot tea. I’m going to send Jim up to the rocks so that he can get an idea about what has to be done; you know, to fetch the body back, and he can call the police.” She turned and walked from the room shouting as she went. “Jim! Jim! Get down here will you? We need some help!”
Pauline laid her head back against the soft cushions and closed her eyes. Her mind raced. What was she to do now? To stick to the truth would expose the past lies or she could cover the mess with yet more subterfuge. For just one brief moment it seemed that maybe it would have been better had she been the poor broken body washing about in the waves at the foot of the promontory with all her troubles gone and finished.
Chapter 27
She wanted to be clean. The soft sleeping suit that she wore was stained and ripped. It was impossible to distinguish bruising from dirt on her hands and her nails were filthy and torn. She ran a hand through her hair and felt grit there in the salt laden strands.
“Dolly, please can you just give me a key and let me go and have a shower? I feel disgusting.”
“I’m sorry my dear, the police were very firm on that. They’ll be here soon, Jim has spoken to them and they are on the way. They said you weren’t to try and clean yourself up though before they’ve been. It’s evidence you see.”
“Evidence?”
“Yes, the way that you look, bits of stuff on your skin and your clothes. Oh now don’t cry, please don’t. It’s horrible I know, but it’s for the best that they see you like this,” she swept a hand towards where Pauline curled on the couch, legs drawn up under the blue blanket. “Well then they’ll see, won’t they, that you weren’t to blame.”