Clare Mackintosh - I Let You Go

I look on my laptop and find the photos Bethan has asked for. I add three more that I want to put on the wall of the cottage in frames I’ll make from driftwood. They are all of the bay: all taken from exactly the same point, but each quite different. The bright blue water of the first picture, sunlight sparkling across the bay, gives way to the flat grey of the second photo, the sun barely visible in the sky. The third picture is my favourite: taken when the winds were so high it was all I could do to keep my balance on the clifftop, and even the gulls had given up their perpetual sweep of the skies. The photo shows black clouds streaking downwards as the sea hurls its waves in their faces. The bay was so alive that day, I had felt my heartbeat pulse through me as I worked.

I add one more photo to my memory stick: a photo taken that first day I wrote in the sand, when I filled the beach with names from my past.

Lady Eve.

I can’t risk my sister knowing where I am, but I can tell her that I’m safe. And that I’m sorry.

9

‘I’m going to Harry’s for lunch, boss, do you want anything?’

Kate appeared in the doorway to Ray’s office. She wore tailored grey trousers and a close-fitting sweater, over which she had put on a light jacket, in preparation for heading out.

Ray got to his feet and plucked his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘I’ll come with you – I could do with some fresh air.’ He usually ate in the canteen, or at his desk, but lunch with Kate was a more appealing prospect. Besides, the sun was finally shining, and he hadn’t looked up from his desk since he got in at eight that morning. He deserved a break.

Harry’s was busy, as always, with a queue that snaked along the counter and on to the pavement. It was popular with officers not only because of its proximity to the station, but because the sandwiches were sensibly priced, and quickly put together. There was nothing more frustrating for a hungry response cop than picking up an immediate before the lunch order turned up.

They shuffled forward in the queue. ‘I can bring yours back to the office if you’re in a hurry,’ she said, but Ray shook his head.

‘I’m in no rush,’ he told her. ‘I’m going through the plans for Operation Break and I could do with some time out. Let’s eat in.’

‘Good idea. Break is the laundering job, right?’ Kate spoke quietly, mindful of the people around them, and Ray nodded.

‘That’s right. I can take you through the file, if you like, so you get a feel for how it’s come together.’

‘Great, thanks.’

They ordered their sandwiches and found a couple of high stools in the window, one eye on Harry, who within minutes was waving their brown paper bags in the air. A pair of uniformed officers walked past the window and Ray raised his hand in greeting.

‘More fuel for the “CID don’t do any work” argument,’ he said to Kate with a laugh.

‘They don’t know the half of it,’ Kate said, picking tomato out of her sandwich and eating it separately. ‘I’ve never worked as hard as I did on the Jacob Jordan case. And all for nothing.’

Ray couldn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. ‘It wasn’t for nothing, you know that. One day someone will talk about what they did, and word will spread, and we’ll have them.’

‘That’s not good policing, though.’

‘What do you mean?’ Ray wasn’t sure if he was amused or insulted by her directness.

Kate put down her sandwich. ‘It’s reactive, not proactive. We shouldn’t be sitting back, waiting for intelligence to come to us: we should be out there looking for it.’

It was like listening to an echo of himself in his early days as a DC. Or perhaps Mags, although he didn’t remember Mags being quite so assertive as Kate. She was eating her sandwich again now, but even that was done with a degree of determination. Ray hid a smile. She said exactly what came into her head, without any censorship or concern about whether it was her place to say it. She would ruffle a few feathers at the station, but Ray had no issue with plain-speaking. In fact he found it quite refreshing.

‘It really got to you, didn’t it?’ Ray said.

She nodded. ‘I hate the fact that the driver’s still out there, thinking he’s got away with it. And I hate that Jacob’s mum left Bristol thinking we didn’t care enough to find out who did it.’ She opened her mouth to carry on, then looked away as though she had thought better of it.

‘What?’

Her cheeks coloured slightly, but she raised her chin defiantly. ‘I haven’t stopped working on it.’

Over the years, Ray had on several occasions uncovered festering paperwork that had been ignored by officers either too busy or too lazy to action it. But doing too much work? That was a new one.

‘It’s been in my own time – and nothing that would get you in trouble with the chief, I promise. I’ve been reviewing the CCTV footage, and checking through the Crimewatch appeal calls to see if we missed anything.’

Ray thought of Kate sitting at home, case papers spread out on the floor, hours of grainy CCTV on the screen in front of her. ‘And you did that because you think we can find the driver?’

‘I did it because I don’t want to give up.’

Ray smiled.

‘Are you going to tell me to stop?’ Kate bit her lip.

That was precisely what he had been about to say. But she was so keen, so single-minded. Besides, even if she never got any further with the investigation, what harm could it do? It was the sort of thing he might once have done himself.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to tell you to stop. Mainly because I’m not entirely convinced it would make a difference if I did.’

They both laughed.

‘But I want you to keep me up to speed with what you’re doing, and be sensible about how many hours you do. And this doesn’t take priority over live jobs. Deal?’

Kate eyed him appraisingly. ‘Deal. Thanks, Ray.’

He screwed up their paper bags into a ball. ‘Come on, we’d better head back. I’ll show you the Op Break file, then I need to get off home, else I’ll be in trouble. Again.’ He rolled his eyes in a mock grimace.

‘I thought Mags didn’t mind you working late?’ Kate said, as they made their way back to the station.

‘I don’t think we’re getting on too well lately,’ he said, feeling instantly disloyal. He rarely spoke about his personal life to people at work, except to Stumpy, who had known Mags for almost as long as Ray had. But he was hardly shouting his mouth off: it was only Kate.

‘You don’t think so?’ she laughed. ‘Don’t you know?’

Ray gave a wry smile. ‘I don’t feel I know anything at the moment. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, just … oh, you know. We’re having problems with our eldest, Tom. He’s not settling in well at school, and he’s become really moody and insular.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Twelve.’

‘Sounds like normal behaviour for that age,’ Kate said. ‘My mum tells me I was an absolute horror.’

‘Ha – I can believe that,’ Ray said. Kate aimed a punch at him and he laughed. ‘I know what you mean, but honestly, it’s really unusual behaviour for Tom and it happened almost overnight.’

‘Do you think he’s being bullied?

‘It has crossed my mind. I don’t like to ask too much in case he thinks I’m hassling him. Mags is better at that sort of stuff, but even she can’t get anything out of him.’ He sighed. ‘Kids – who’d have ’em?’

‘Not me,’ Kate said, as they reached the station. She swiped her access fob to open the side door. ‘Not for ages, anyway. There’s far too much fun to be had first.’ She laughed, and Ray felt a flash of envy for her uncomplicated life.