Chapter 15

Pauline pushed out from the dripping rocks. Instead of sliding and slithering down the streaming boulders she searched for handholds to pull herself up the front of the small cliff face. She didn’t want to be exposed on the beach.

Water streamed into her face and her nails broke and split as she scrabbled for safe places to cling on with the ends of her fingers. Her feet kicked and probed for footholds.

She pulled herself over the top and onto the sheep nibbled grass in the meadow. Scurrying to the sopping hedge she made her way down the edge of the field to the garden wall. She was able to crouch beneath it to make her way to the road. Mud sucked and pulled at her squelching shoes as the wind-blown rain slanted into her streaming eyes. The grey day had closed around her now and the delight of just a short while ago was lost in the desperate struggle of the moment.

There was no sign of a car parked on the verge or in the gateway to the field. Now that she was near to the little cottage she was unsure what to do next. The man from the beach wasn’t visible in the garden but he could be round the other side of the building, in the front or indeed inside.

She slid through the front gateway and ran in a half crouch across the path to bob under the little front window. There was no noise that she could make out save the splosh and bubble of the rain in the gutters and drain pipes. She raised her head far enough to be able to peer into the lounge. All seemed undisturbed and empty. At a half run she covered the distance down the side of the house and through the tall gate into the back garden. There was no-one obviously there and she strode across the flagged patio to where it was possible to see into the kitchen which was deserted and calm.

The bolt was fastened on the kitchen door and so Pauline made her way to the front of the house. As she slipped the key into the lock the sound of an engine spun her around and from behind the bus stop two hundred yards up the road a dark car rolled out onto the road and drove past the cottage. She tried to peer inside but it sped past picking up speed and all it was possible to make out was a dark clad figure behind the rain splattered windscreen. As it sped off into the misty distance she stepped inside and slammed the door behind her. Was it possible that this was someone sent by George? Would he really go to the lengths of hiring someone? It was a ludicrous thought. Ordinary people like her weren’t followed by private detectives.

She slid to the floor and let go a sighing breath. What the heck was going on? Her nerves were jangled, her shoes and clothes were filthy and wet and her soaking hair streamed into her eyes. Standing in the hallway she peeled off the sopping outfit and bundled it all together to throw into the kitchen. She would have a hot shower before she sorted out the laundry and stuffed her wet shoes with newspaper.

With the hot water pounding her skin and steam billowing around her she made a huge effort to regain control of her emotions and unscramble the events of the last couple of hours.

She was making a mountain out of a mole hill. A man walking on the beach, even in the rain, wasn’t suspicious. Hadn’t she done the very same thing herself? A man climbing over the garden wall wasn’t innocent behaviour however and a car hidden behind the bus shelter effectively on the pavement was decidedly odd. She would tell Dolly. There was very likely an innocent explanation. Probably it was someone they knew who used the garden as access. She must stop seeing danger everywhere she went.

Chapter 16

Clean and dressed in soft trousers and a sweatshirt Pauline dried her hair and sprayed herself with perfume. Her agitated nerves had settled in the warm steam and pounding spray and as she made her way to the kitchen she felt her world had pretty much righted itself again.

There was still a puzzle to be solved but in reality it probably had nothing to do with her. No-one locally knew who she was and when she spoke to Dolly in the morning no doubt an explanation about the afternoon’s upset would be found and if not, well so be it. She had come to no harm and now felt foolish imagining her desperate dash across the meadow and the ducking and diving behind walls and under hedges.

When her mind began replaying yet again the strange happenings she deliberately pushed them aside. There could be no solution found tonight and what she needed to do was put the worry away and try to have a pleasant evening.

She needed comfort food and she needed wine. Cheese on toast would hit the spot and the bottle of red she had opened the day before.

Once the food was ready she carried it through to the living room and turned on the table lamps and the jazz she had been listening to the night before. With a contented sigh she settled back on the sofa with a plate of bubbling cheese on toast and leaned over to place the glass on the side table.

The food was delicious, exactly what she needed after the upheaval of the day and she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment…

She leaned to put the empty plate beside her and her fingers found a small scrap of paper. She idly picked it up and unfolded it.

Gull’s Rest

Porthelland

Jim and Dolly Teague

07864 342281 mobile

She folded the paper again and dropped it back where she had found it. Laying her head back she lost herself in the music.

The concern at the back of her mind grew slowly. She put down her glass and picked up the post-it note. Pink with a daisy in the top right hand corner. The same as the ones she had kept on her desk in the house in The Dales.

Her throat threatened to close. She hadn’t put this paper here. Dolly had cleaned the room and there had been no bits and pieces left about. Both herself and the cottage owner were tidy and neat. She had used this table for her morning coffee cup and it was clean and empty.

She knew it was her paper and it was her writing – there was no doubt – but she certainly hadn’t put it in this room.

Where had she last had it? She had been so very careful to keep all her information on her Macbook, the one that George didn’t know she had, the one that stayed hidden in the old suitcase in the wardrobe.

She had written the address down just once. Sitting at her desk ready to leave and then thinking ahead to when she would arrive in Cornwall. She had scribbled it down at the last minute in case she needed to call.

She tried to calm herself. Just like the man in the garden this would have a simple explanation.

Closing her eyes she replayed her departure and remembered. She had slipped this into her jacket pocket and as she began the walk had pushed her jacket into the bag: the jacket that she no longer had because it was lying in a ditch at the side of the road.

Wasn’t it?

Chapter 17

She held the little square of paper in her hands, folding and unfolding it. It must be that she had brought it into this room and put it on the table. Or maybe, it had been on the floor and Dolly had picked it up and put it here for her to find. Yes, that’s what had happened.

But it wasn’t.

Pauline knew. This piece of paper had been in her jacket pocket. The ambulance people told her to keep the unconscious man in the ditch warm and sent her running for her bag and dragging out the jacket. She had wrapped it around his shoulders and chest and felt the shivering ease.

She had been so scared that he would die. It was frustrating that she didn’t know what else to do but to sit beside him and hold his hand and so then she had wrapped him in her coat.