All That Is Lost Between Us (22 page)

If this day gets any more bizarre I'm going to need to lie down. ‘Do they think it's connected with the accident?'

Callum puts the keys in the ignition. ‘Yes – perhaps. Obviously no one can say for certain until we find out who she is.'

‘What did she look like?'

‘It was hard to tell from the photographs. Fairly young – in her twenties, I'd say. Long brown hair. Skinny. Dressed casually.'

I am silent while I try to process this information. I run through all the people who match this description, but I can't imagine what any of them would be doing at the hospital.

I lean my head against the cold window. ‘I'm really worried about Georgia.'

‘So am I,' Callum says as he starts the car. ‘But I don't think we're going to make it easier for her by hovering over her. I'm just trying to carry on as normal.'

Just what we need
, I think,
Callum acting normally.
I snort without meaning to.

‘What?'

‘Nothing.'

I half hope he'll rant at me, but of course he doesn't. Instead he just says, ‘Not now, Anya,' with his eyes fixed on the road.

Now I really want to hit him. My rage is building to spectacular proportions, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me act like the crazy one. I don't want to be the one in the wrong.

I don't think I like you any more
, I say silently to him as he drives.
I'm not sure I even know you any more.

I watch the dark night speeding by. At some point, Callum and I are going to have to talk. I need to gather my strength so I can seize the initiative once this trauma subsides. I cannot continue to make excuses. It scares me how easy it is to exist by letting the everyday practicalities take priority. All at once I can look back at months, if not years, of build-up to this point. Less and less conversation. Less and less physical contact. I try to keep the scary questions locked away, but a few of them keep escaping. Where are we headed? What do our children make of us? Is there any way to pull ourselves back from the precipice or are we already leaning too far over? Even these questions give me a giddy sensation, as though I am already falling. When I try peering into our future I see the children leaving home, and the rest is a horrible fog I can't get past.

I shift slightly, glancing across at him, but his expression hasn't changed. Is he really trying to pretend that I'm not here? It occurs to me that I bought the plaid shirt and jeans he is wearing. I wonder if he remembered when he put them on this morning, or if he just grabbed the nearest thing to hand.

As I'm thinking all this, his pager goes off. In a series of smooth movements, he pulls over, checks it, and sets off again.

Still he doesn't say anything. I have to sit on my hands to stop myself from slapping him.

‘Do I gather you're going out?' I ask, not bothering to curb the sarcasm in my voice.

‘There's a retired couple somewhere on the Fairfield Horseshoe. Left details at the hotel and haven't checked back in.'

‘That's not what I asked.'

Callum's hands slam the steering wheel. ‘You want us to talk to Georgia – I get it. But Georgia is at Bethany's right now. There's a good chance I'll be back before she is. She promised she would call when she's ready to come home. I presume you don't mind picking her up?'

‘Of course I don't—'

‘Well, then, would you like me to leave that old couple stuck up there for the night?'

‘You act like they're your responsibility, but you're part of a team, Callum. There are others who can take care of it.'

Callum shakes his head. ‘I don't expect you to understand.'

‘Well, then, try to explain it to me.'

I hear Callum sigh, and when he speaks I can tell he's making an effort not to growl at me. ‘My dad walked those hills, Anya. My brother and my daughter love running on the fells. I know how I'd feel if they got stuck or had an accident, so I empathise with worried relatives. Of course, when there's a reason to be home, I'll be there. But . . .'

He stops short. I have tried to take in everything he's said, but I'm afraid that I can hear something else unspoken:
I
am not enough reason for him to stay home.

We say nothing more on the way back to Ambleside. When we reach the school, Callum drives up the hill and stops beside my car, leaving the engine running. I take my cue and get out, and then a surge of anger makes me slam the door. I watch him reverse and the tail-lights disappear, leaving me in darkness.

The stars are shining tonight, sprinkled across the sky like fairy dust, with not a cloud around to blot them out. The sight usually rallies my spirits, but peace seems a million miles away. I turn my back on the universe and get into my car.

As I twist the key in the ignition I'm already thinking about having a hot bath when I get home. I need to wipe away the traces of this day, to stop them clinging to my skin. I want to sit somewhere quietly and let everything settle around me.

I'm waiting to hear the engine spring to life. But nothing happens. Of course. The bloody battery is dead.

I sag into my seat, staring through the windscreen towards the darkened school as I run through my options. Just ahead of me, the car park is empty. It's gone half past six – everyone who might help has already left.

I consider calling Callum, but I'm still as mad as hell with him. He'll probably think it's some kind of ruse to stop him going on his bloody rescue mission. I can think of nothing more galling than to have to play damsel in distress right now. Instead, I hunt through the glove compartment for the RAC number. When I call them they say they will be here in half an hour.

It's not that long
, I tell myself.

Just call Callum
, I tell myself.

I text Georgia and Zac.
The car won't start. Stuck at school. Have called RAC.
Then I put my phone in my pocket, and prepare to wait.

A
s Callum heads away from Anya, guilt digs deep under his skin. He had silenced her with his reasoning for attending the rescue, by intimating that she was the selfish one, yet he knows he would have chosen differently tonight if he hadn't needed to find and pacify Danielle.

She hasn't responded to any of his calls and texts. All day it has driven him crazy. Even the act of getting in touch with her is like repeatedly begging for forgiveness. Each time she ignores him he feels more culpable.

He cannot get her words out of his head. ‘
This isn't over yet, Callum, whatever you think.
' Was it really as much of a threat as it had sounded?

His thoughts oscillate between Danielle and the unknown woman who had prowled the hospital corridors last night. Both scared him. He replays the CCTV footage in his mind: the way her hand had lingered on the wall as she peered in through the semi-closed blinds. What had she been watching for? Could there be an innocent explanation, or was this the person who had run down their children? If it were, she looks barely older than a child herself. Callum wouldn't have put her any later than mid-twenties.

If this woman had just put a young girl in hospital, shouldn't she have been displaying a little more distress? But perhaps she had – the images had been too grainy and dark to see detail.

Five minutes later, as he walks into the briefing room, Les Pickering looks across at him, raising his eyebrows in query. Callum understands the question, but although he's the team leader he is happy to stay in the background for now. Since Les's knee replacement he has become a regular fixture in the control room; they make a good team. Callum reminds himself that Les didn't see anything amiss in the equipment room last night, but it doesn't make it any easier to look him in the eye.

Callum scans the dozen or so people present, searching for long, light brown shiny hair tied in a ponytail. He can't see her anywhere. He tries to tune in to what Les is saying. Ivy and Larry Semple, a couple in their sixties, haven't returned to their B&B. They are both fit and had planned to spend the day on the Fairfield Horseshoe. Larry Semple had logged their proposed route with the guesthouse, but he hadn't left a mobile number. No one has heard from them since this morning, and there are no reports coming in from walkers having spotted anyone in trouble.

It sounds worrying. Occasionally people decide to disappear in the hills, but they don't usually go to the trouble of leaving their route mapped out for their hotelier.

‘It's been a mild day,' Les says, ‘but now it's dark the wind is picking up and the temps are dropping fast. Let's make sure the Semples are safely back indoors in time for
Coronation Street
.'

The team head for the kit room. Les makes his way over to Callum. ‘I'm happy to stay here and coordinate – but are you sure you're all right to go out tonight?'

Before Callum can answer he hears a familiar voice behind him.

‘Sorry I'm late, what'd I miss?'

As Callum turns to Danielle, his heartbeat becomes a belligerent smack in his chest. He finds she is staring past him towards Les, and won't meet his eye.

‘Missing couple, retired, haven't made it back to their B&B. Somewhere along Fairfield.'

‘Right. I'll go and get ready.'

Callum is sure their indiscretion must be obvious to everyone, but Les simply pats Callum's arm, apparently unaware that his question remains unanswered. ‘Good man. I'll call you in the RV. The Patterdale team are going to join in, and Fletch and Mick will meet you there with the dogs.'

Callum nods, then heads quickly to the kit room to grab a search sack. Everything else is already in the rescue vehicle. When Callum sees Danielle preparing to ride in the front, he jumps in the back, huddling in the small space with six more team members, their bodies jostling at every bump in the road. On the way he checks with Les, who has contacted the guesthouse again. It wouldn't be the first time the missing are safe and well and enjoying supper while the rescue team are out looking for them. But this couple still haven't reported in.

When they pull up at Low Farm, on the outskirts of the search area, the Patterdale crew are already there, waiting to confer with Callum's team before they get going. He can see the dogs too, straining to be off, their excitement palpable.

It's then that Callum gets the next shock of the day. For in front of him is Mike McCallister, dressed in fluoro jacket and boots, a rope slung over his arm.

Mike catches sight of Callum and nods a greeting, as though they vaguely know each other. Then he turns away. There's nothing to suggest they had spent two desperate hours together on one of the adjacent mountains.

Danielle has seen him too, and looks curiously at Callum. A week ago they would have been co-conspirators, discussing this sudden appearance and what it foretold. Now he doesn't dare talk to her while the others are around.

What is everyone waiting for? Callum wonders. They are all watching him expectantly.

‘Callum – you okay?' John Dudgeon asks. ‘You ready?'

Of course, they are waiting for him to take the lead, to sort out their configuration for the search.

He heads over to Bill Cramer from the Patterdale team. Bill is a fell-runner and a good friend of Liam's – they have accompanied one another on some of their wilder adventures. Their tales of injuries and incidents are so extreme that most people would think they were exaggerating, but Callum knows Liam too well to believe they are anything but the truth.

‘We'll let the dogs go first, then you sweep the eastern side and we'll take the west. The Semples left a plan of their route, and it didn't sound like they're the type to stray too far from the path.'

Bill nods. ‘All right, let's go.' He is about to turn when he pauses. ‘Pam and I were shocked to hear about Sophia, and we're glad Georgia's okay. We've been thinking about Liam and Helene all day.'

‘Thank you,' Callum says, then follows the group, staring at Mike McCallister's back. He shakes his head, trying to clear it.

He gives some instructions as they walk. ‘John, Dave, Howard, Paul, since you've got the stretcher, why don't you stick close to the path. Trent, Bill, if you sweep a bit further down the valley, Danielle and I will check along some of the other tracks in case they went the wrong way.'

It's a gamble, pairing himself with Danielle so overtly, but he can't think of another way to talk to her. He waits for the knowing glances, but everyone picks up their packs and begins to walk. Once they are on their way the rescue drill takes over. They all begin to make lots of noise, calling out to the Semples as they search, then listening for a response.

Other than that, Danielle doesn't say anything. And Callum doesn't know how to begin. As they walk, his mind grows as dark and precarious as the fells. ‘I'm really sorry about this morning, Dani,' he says quietly at one point when he gets close enough. She won't even catch his eye. ‘We need to talk about this,' he tries.

‘I think you did all your talking this morning,' she hisses back.

Before Callum receives the call he hears barking in the distance. If a dog has found the couple, he will be running between them and his handler, barking all the time to show the way.

The radio call confirms it. Callum and Danielle quicken their pace towards Low Pike. When they arrive, they find a woman on the ground, her face pale in the torchlight, her trouser leg rolled up and her ankle purple and swollen. Her husband sits behind her, arms around her as though he's trying to help her keep warm.

‘My knights in bright orange armour,' she says in a wobbly voice, then bursts into tears, apologising for causing them all trouble. Callum relaxes as Bill sets about splinting her ankle and gives her fentanyl for the pain. He watches as Ivy rejects the offer of laughing gas and berates her husband for not believing in the worth of mobile phones. He's pretty sure this lady is going to be just fine.