“Pauline, Pauline, come on my dear, wake up. The police are here. I’ve made some tea.”

With a groan she came back to the world, pushed up from the slouch and turned to the doorway. A young woman in a dark suit and a tall uniformed police officer waited. “Have they found him? Have they got the body?”

The pair moved into the room and perched on the edges of homely old chairs. The woman leaned forward. “Pauline, may I call you Pauline? I’m Detective Ryan. I have to ask you some questions and see if we can sort out what’s been going on here. Do you feel well enough? You look pretty beaten up; have you had a doctor look at you?”

“No, no I don’t want that, I’m alright really. I just want to have a bath and get clean. Have they found him? Have they got him out of the water?”

“They’re searching now.”

“But, he’s there, just in the water at the bottom of the cliffs. I can take you.” As she spoke the words she prayed that they wouldn’t ask her to follow through on the offer. She didn’t believe she would be able to trudge back across the sands and make the climb and she didn’t want to see him again rolling in the waves, bumping against the rocks.

“We have a team looking now, the lifeboat is there and the coastguard, but I have to tell you that up to now there is no body. We haven’t found anything. Are you quite sure that was where he fell?”

Chapter 28

Pauline felt that she was teetering on the edge of insanity. There was now even more hell heaped on the torment she had already suffered. The side room at the hospital was bland and not quite clean. The medical team were calm and professional but without any warmth. Though the people searching had still not found a body the possibility of murder or misadventure had meant that she must be “processed.” It was an awful concept and a dreadful ordeal.

While she was examined, poked, prodded, scraped and questioned, her clothes were taken away and put in bags. At first they offered her a paper suit to wear in place of the hospital gown, but in the end Dolly was allowed to wait by the front door of the cottage until one of the forensic people brought her some of her clothes from the wardrobe and drawers at her cottage. It seemed that they didn’t quite know how to treat her. She was so very obviously a victim and yet with no real evidence and only her confused account of events they didn’t know whether she was a murderer or not. They were polite, kind and sympathetic to her wounds, but in the back of their eyes she could see suspicion.

However it was clear to everyone that she was on the verge of total exhaustion. And so with the strong urging of the doctor and because she was now almost incapable of forming meaningful answers to any questions they took her back to the farm. They had wanted her to stay in the hospital and she had begged to be allowed to leave. In the event they had no real means to make her stay. They had of course wanted her home address and because she didn’t have the strength for anything else, she had given them the details of the house in The Dales. Trying to explain that she didn’t live there anymore brought more tears and so they gave up on the questioning and sent her away, “For now,” they said, and the words chilled her.

She asked to go to the cottage but they were adamant. It wasn’t possible; the little house was now a crime scene, tape covered the doors and it would be sealed while they combed the rooms for evidence of the intruder. What would they look for? There was nothing to find; just her clothes, a couple of books. She had so little; would that in itself cause them to be suspicious? She didn’t know.

It was only the feel of Dolly’s kind arms around her and her gentle voice urging her to be calm and promising a bed at the farm house that stopped her from falling apart completely. Then after it all; the hospital, the questions, the empty silences filled with puzzlement and disbelief, there was a drive home in the back of a police car with a silent driver and Dolly uncomfortable and embarrassed beside her.

At last she clambered between sweet smelling sheets in one of the neat little bed and breakfast rooms. A drug induced sleep carried her away, and while boats and police teams scoured the cliffs and beaches she slept, with Dolly creeping up the stairs at regular intervals to listen at the door and shake her head in confusion…

The house was quiet and calm. Pauline didn’t want to open her eyes. If she could just stay where she was in the warm, dark place, maybe it would all go away.

Of course it didn’t and in the end she knew it was time to drag herself back into the mess that had displaced her life.

She stretched her legs. The pain was similar to that after strenuous exercise; not too bad, bearable. She pushed herself up against the pillows and carefully swung round. She felt better than she had expected.

Her clothes were thrown on a chair and she vaguely remembered Dolly helping her to undress and pull on the T shirt that she had on. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt coated, the effect of the drugs she supposed. With the stiff movements and sighing groans of an old woman she rose to her feet and straightened her creaking back. A dresser stood against the wall; a mirror in a frame standing on the polished top.

She hadn’t seen her face. Dolly told her it was bruised and battered but nothing could have prepared her for the wreckage that greeted her startled gaze. The skin around both eyes was blackened and swollen and her cheeks were multi-coloured with bruises. She had felt the swelling in her lips but hadn’t been prepared for the sight of them; liver coloured with bruising and streaked with red where the skin had burst.

Though she knew it was all temporary – the doctor had assured her that most of it was superficial and would all heal – it was worse than any ruin George had caused. But of course he had been careful to hide his handiwork: he had expected her to live.

The tiny creak of the door had Dolly out of the kitchen and half way up the narrow staircase barely before Pauline had moved across the landing.

“How are you feeling? Take it carefully; here let me help you.”

“Thanks. Actually it’s not too bad.”

“You’ve been crying again haven’t you?”

“I saw my face. It’s silly I know but…” She shrugged her shoulders.

“It’ll mend my dear. You’ll be surprised. It won’t take long.”

“Oh I know. It’s not that important really, not just now. Is there news Dolly, have they found him?”

“I haven’t heard anything. Nobody has been, but we are supposed to give them a call once you are up and about. There is just one constable now at the cottage; all the cars have gone. I don’t know about the beach. Jim has gone out to see what’s happening. He’ll be back soon.

“Come on down and have some soup. You’ll feel better with some food in your tummy.”

“Oh, you are kind. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. Thank you. And Dolly, I didn’t mean to kill him. Well, I don’t know what I meant; I just had to get away. You do believe me don’t you?” The moment of hesitation was brief but it was enough, no-one really knew what to think, not even this kind new friend.

It was time for truth. It was time to bring everything out into the light. “Can you call them for me, the police? I need to tell them everything that’s happened. Before I do though Dolly, I want to apologise to you. I haven’t been completely honest, I am sorry but maybe when I explain you’ll understand.”

Pauline had made her way slowly down the steps and now Dolly reached a hand and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Whatever you’ve done, or said I’m sure you had your reasons. I think I’m a pretty good judge when it comes to people and I know you’re not a bad person Pauline. Come on, let’s get on with it. You’ll feel better when it’s over.”