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Authors: Diane M Dickson

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BOOK: The Grave
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Chapter 17

 

The beam of a torch swung through the darkness picking out
the gnarled and tormented branches of hedgerows and Sylvie bobbed her head down
below the level of the dashboard.  In the event it was Samuel, he swung the
door open. 

 

“Okay, it’s a little walk, you take the smaller bags.”

 

While Sylvie climbed down onto the mud of the turn in he
opened the rear doors and retrieved the bags and laid them on the ground.  She
reached for her own and the smaller one of his.

 

“Hold on, I need to pull the car further back.”

 

He slid behind the wheel and reversed until the car could
barely be seen through the overhanging branches and tall weeds.

 

“That’ll have to do for tonight.  Come on, can you manage
those bags?”

 

She bent and lifted them one in each hand, but he had
already turned away to retrieve the remaining holdalls. 

 

“I’ll come for the food box later.” 

 

He strode off glancing behind just once to check if she was
managing to keep up, laden as she was with the two bags and her rucksack
swinging from one shoulder.

 

They walked for a couple of minutes; up ahead the door of
one of the small cottages opened and a spill of yellow light fell onto the
narrow pathway and across the road.  Samuel drew back into the hedgerow pulling
her with him and throwing a hand across the front of her to hold her still on
the uneven ground.  She hardly dared to breathe though in truth she had no idea
what this was all about.  She knew neither where they were going or who they
were hiding from specifically. He had shown no concern in the McDonalds or the
supermarket so why now, in the dusky light of the Lake District evening, was he
so nervous and secretive. A figure emerged from the little house and turned to
walk off in the other direction from them.  The burning ashes of a discarded
cigarette end sparkled like a tiny firework and then were extinguished in the
night.  The silhouette faded becoming vague and insubstantial as it moved off
into the darkness.

 

When he was happy there was no-one else around, they drew
forward again into the drive of the last of the houses.  He led her down the
small stretch of concrete and pushed open the front door.  It was cold and
clammy inside and though it didn’t smell of neglect and dirt it had obviously
been shut up for some time.  The air was still and stale.  There was the faint smell
of bathroom cleaner and an air freshener had been left somewhere imbuing the
atmosphere with an artificial chemical scent.

 

He pushed the door closed and dropped the luggage.

 

“I’m sorry we can’t put any lights on, but once your eyes
adjust I think you’ll manage.  I can’t turn the heating on, the steam from the
vent might be seen from outside.  Are you okay Sylvie.”

 

His tone was gentle now and he placed his hands on her upper
arms rubbing up and down as if he were trying to warm her. His manner was
changed, as if he had reached a sanctuary and could let go the grip on his
nerves.

 

“You’ve been very patient and I know I haven’t been any
company but I wanted to get us somewhere safe.  I don’t think we have any need
to worry but I don’t like it when I’m not in control. 

 

“I was heading for Hull, planning on Holland, but you having
no passport, it threw me. It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

 

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know and I can sort it, but
it’ll take a few days and I didn’t want to risk hotels and so on, just in
case.  We should be okay here though, but it’s essential no-one knows so we’ll
keep the lights out.  The cooker is gas and has an external vent so it’s a no
go, I’ll bring the camping stove and we can make a drink and a sandwich.

 

“Tomorrow I’ll get things sorted better but let’s just be
careful for now okay?” 

 

The small physical contact had almost reduced her to tears
and she couldn’t speak but gave him a quivering smile. He looked down at her,
his eyes were gentle and the hard lines of his face softened.  He was somehow
more humanised.

 

“I know I’ve said this before, but you know you aren’t in
any trouble Sylvie, you didn’t do anything wrong.  If all this is too much for
you, and I wouldn’t blame you if it was, then I can take you to Windermere
tomorrow.  You can get a train to Manchester and on to wherever you like. I
have to get out of the country at least for a while but you don’t.”

 

“I’d rather stay with you Samuel, I would.  I would never
tell anyone about what happened I want you to know that, never, ever, but I
just feel so lost right now and I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here. 
Yes I’d rather stay with you.  I’m sorry about the passport.”

 

He shook his head. 

 

“No, we can stay here for a few days and then we can
probably carry on.” 

 

He glanced round in the darkness and she detected a slump in
his shoulders as he turned his head, taking in what could be seen of the small
lounge and the kitchen beyond.

 

“I thought a passport took weeks and cost a load of money. 
I haven’t got much money.”

 

“It’s okay, we can’t go down the usual route now anyway,
don’t worry I know some people.”

 

“Where is this place Samuel? is it a holiday cottage, I saw
there were loads of them all around.  I’m not surprised, it’s lovely up here, I
had no idea how nice it was.”

 

“Yes it is lovely and no this isn’t a holiday cottage, this
is mine, this is my home.”

Chapter 18

 

Holding the torch low he led her to the stairs, they had
scratched together an evening meal from the things picked up at the
supermarket. With the small stove screened behind the open kitchen door, they
had made tea.  Pulling cups and plates from the cupboards and dusting them
quickly on a towel he had revealed a domesticated side that argued with the
ramshackle, dragged together man she had spent time with in the shack.

 

The travelling and the stress had worn them down and, as
soon as they had finished their food, they left the dirty pots in the sink and made
their way upstairs.  He was confident and unhesitating walking around in the
dark, he knew this house well. 

 

It was strange to see him now.  Sylvie had only ever been
aware of him as the weirdo in the woods but watching him here it was difficult
to believe he hadn’t spent all his time here, in this little place in the Lake
District.  She was confused and longed to question him.

 

The small landing with four doors lined along one wall was reached
by an open wooden staircase.  He threw open the first of the doors. 

 

“Bathroom.”

 

She nodded, assuming there would be no hot water but at
least she could have a good wash. He surprised her yet again with his
intuition.

 

“I’ve turned on the electric.  I think that, providing you
leave the room light off and don’t open the window, you can have a shower, it’s
an instant heat thing, but use your own towel.  We have to be careful, when we
leave here it must look as though we’ve never been.  I have someone come in
about once a month to check it all out and to clean, I’m not sure when they are
next due.  I don’t want there to be any sort of trail, just on the off-chance
that anyone asks questions.

 

He pushed the next door, the curtains were open and the moonlight
through the little window outlined a bed and dresser.  The floor was covered
with a light coloured carpet, this house was homely and comfortable. 

 

“You can sleep in here if you want.  Strip the bed though,
we’ll use the blankets from the car.  I know it’s not as comfortable but again
I don’t want to leave evidence.  Tomorrow we could pick up some cheap sheets
and then take them with us when we go.  Will you be warm enough?”

 

It was a pivotal moment, Sylvie understood and she weighed
her options.

 

“Maybe it would be warmer if we shared the blankets.”

 

She had crossed her fingers in the dark, she didn’t want him
to turn her down, couldn’t bear it if he rejected her now.  She felt sad and
vulnerable and the thought of lying in the cold and the dark of this small
room, brought tears to her eyes.  She wanted to curl up with this big bear of a
man who had, to her amazement, proved to be a gentle, caring person. She wanted
him to be a friend and life had instructed her that the way to achieve friendship
with a man was to offer her body.

 

He stood before her, his head cocked to one side and then
with a brief nod he turned and entered the room. 

 

“We’ll use this room.  I’ll go and get the blankets. You can
have a shower now if you want to but leave the light off, can you manage?”

 

“Yes. Thanks Samuel.” 

 

The shower was wonderful, and as she rubbed cream into her
warmed skin and slipped into a clean T-shirt for sleeping she felt relaxed and
there was a tiny germ of happiness uncurling in her heart.  If only this could
have really been a holiday.  She had never had one and this was exactly what
she would have wished for, a sweet little house, a different environment and a
kind friend. 

 

She heard the door click quietly and held her breath for a
moment until she realised that the chance of it being any other than Samuel was
so remote as to be impossible.  As she went back into the bedroom he had begun
to strip off his travel-stained, stale clothes.  She crossed the carpet and
wrapped her arms around his naked upper body.  As he hugged her in return she
laid her head against the strength of his chest and in the dark and the silence
she heard the muted thudding of his heart.

Chapter 19

 

It was raining in the Lake District, it often did and so it
was largely unremarked.  This low pressure system though covered the whole of
the country and the resulting rain had fallen unrelentingly in southern parts for
two days.  The dancing droplets had peppered the slow sweep of the river and dribbled
from the leaves of the old trees.  The soil had sucked it in, great roots
stretched and coiled in their leisurely, relentless way moving the earth and
reorganising the underground. 

 

The willow had stood for more than a century, perched on the
banks of the river.  Rain from the streaming branches dripped endlessly into
little runnels formed around the base and trickled away to join the rising
flow.  Mud slid down the incline and as the level rose the homes of the rats
and voles were inundated and the grass of the banks was swallowed by the swelling
waters.

 

Back in the north, Samuel and Sylvie had spent the night
curled together under the inadequate covering.  While he had taken a quick
shower she had laid under the woollen blankets, cold and a little
apprehensive.  She was experienced sexually, able to satisfy animal lust with
men like Phil and the few of his contacts he had forced on her, but she had
never made love to anyone.  Now, with Samuel her heart craved affection, and tenderness. 

 

He climbed in beside her bringing the damp warmth of the
bathroom with him.  He still hadn’t shaved and the rough stubble was harsh against
her cheek as she turned to him, it was real and honest and she revelled in the
masculinity of it. He kissed her. The last time, in the shack, there had been
no kissing though the sex had been kind, now his warm lips pressed gently onto
hers and she opened her mouth in response. 

 

His hands explored her warming body, hesitant at first,
still testing, asking questions which she answered with moves of her own.  As
his confidence grew and the memory of passion came back to him he caressed her
breasts, her thighs and her belly.  As they discovered each other the growing sensations
took her away, from the worry and the fear and stress.  Her dark world filled with
pleasure and, at the end, the nearest thing to ecstasy she had ever known.

 

For Samuel it was a revelation, he had been convinced for
years that the only sexual release he would have would be of his own making. 
It had become nothing more than a physical necessity.  It left him saddened and
bereft reminding him as it did of what had been and what he truly believed was
no longer for him. 

 

This young body, supple and giving in the darkness, dragged
him back to a place he had lost and, though he never for one moment forgot this
was Sylvie, it didn’t feel like the betrayal he had always imagined it would do. 
As the sex became something deeper and more spiritual he believed he felt a
benediction, it was right it should be here in this place that had once meant
so much and, against everything he would have imagined, he felt no guilt.  With
Sylvie totally in the ultimate moments, he felt the great shift of grief and
his soul soared and his life began again.

 

They woke early to the gentle sound of the rain shushing on
the window panes and, though they knew the day would hold challenges to be met,
they gifted themselves the time to endorse their new relationship, loving each
other once more in the grey morning as they had in the darkness.

Chapter 20

 

“We have to be very careful, it’s important that the house
looks empty and when we leave there’s no trace of us ever being here.  I have
to go out soon, there’s no signal here for a mobile phone or my internet
dongle.  You can come with me if you like or you can stay in here, it’s up to
you.

 

If you do stay, keep away from the windows and try not to
disturb things too much.”

 

“It’s okay Samuel, I’ll stay here if you don’t mind and I’ll
be careful. I know I’ve been a bit of a wimp up to now but, really I’m fine.  I
can look after myself normally, well, much better than you probably think.

 

“I’d rather stay here though, after all the driving it’ll be
a break. This is a lovely house, to be honest I don’t understand why you’d want
to be living in the woods, down south, in an awful shack, when you’ve got
this. 

 

“Samuel could we not just hide out here for a while you know
till we see what’s going to happen.  Then when it seems things are okay, well I
suppose you could just stay here in your home and carry on, and I could do
something?” 

 

The little speech trailed off at this point.  She would have
loved to tell him she could stay here with him for as long as he would let her,
but acknowledged it was too soon, far too soon in this new-born intimacy to
talk of any sort of future.

 

“There’s things you don’t know Sylvie, there’s reasons I
can’t be here.” 

 

He looked down at her, tumbled and warmed by their morning
passion and he let his heart feel the pleasure, it was good.  Sitting back down
on the side of the bed he took hold of her hand.

 

“Look, there’s stuff I need to tell you.  It’s only fair and
afterwards you have to make a decision about what you want to do.  I won’t try
to influence you and I’ll respect any decision you make, but let me do this
stuff first. We need to be ready, to get everything sorted out and carry on
with the plan to go out of the country, for a while at least.  Come on get
yourself dressed.   

 

“I’ll go and put the kettle on.” 

 

She heard him moving around quietly downstairs and hugged
the wonderful normalness of it to her.  This tiny little house in the beautiful
wildness of the Lake District was the best place she had ever been.  Why couldn’t
he stay, if it truly was his home? She allowed herself a moment of daydream to
imagine them here, at peace, enjoying each other and him teaching her about
this place from his past, how she would have loved it.

 

She stepped lightly down the stairs, to find Samuel
inexplicably taking photographs with a digital camera.  The toaster, the kettle
and the dishes in the cupboards all had his attention. 

 

He heard her come to stand beside him and grinned at her
puzzled expression.

 

“No, I’m not losing it.  I thought if I took pictures we can
make sure we put all the stuff back in the same place before we leave.  It’ll
mean we can relax a bit more. 

 

“Now, get your drink and I made some toast, there’s jam. 

 

“We need to take a photograph for your passport.  It would
be really good if we could change the way you look a bit, but there isn’t time
for much.  You need to look just a bit different, but not enough so you feel
awkward, because you need to be relaxed for going through customs.”

 

“I can do that.” 

 

She grabbed her hot drink and skipped back up the stairs
where he could hear her dragging her bag across the floor and then the bathroom
door opened.

 

He stood gazing out of the kitchen window which was
unobserved here at the back of the house.  He had come close enough so he could
watch the ripple of the short grass as it moved before the breeze and the stiff
wagging of the gorse bushes.  It was all still the same, unchanging and
ignorant of the rough tides which had driven through his life. The hills, the
dales and fells simply here and eternal. The memories were so strong, all the
dreams and the days and the loving and the laughter, here in this place but no
longer his, not any part of what he was now.

 

“Ta Da.” 

 

He spun round.  She had sprayed some dark red colour into
her blond hair, streaks of it along her fringe and in strands here and there.
She had then pulled it back and piled it high on her head, the difference was
surprising, her eyes looked larger and her neck, bare now was long and
elegant.  She had a tiny glittering stud above her top lip and along her ears
were rows of gold coloured hoops, two in one and in the other he couldn’t count
them but they followed the curve to the very top.  She had applied kohl makeup
to her eyes quite heavily and had painted a small beauty spot high on her
cheek.  Her lips were dark red and fuller now with the effect of the cosmetics.

 

She was a lovely looking girl, striking as she stood before
him now like this with the jewels and the war paint but he preferred her as she
had been just a short hour ago, flushed with sleep and blurry with passion in
his bed.

 

He shook his head, the difference was astounding, perfect
for their needs, she didn’t look awkward or too far outside the range of normal
to look ridiculous.

 

“How, did you do that?”

 

“This is the other me.”  She giggled at the look on his
face.

 

“I didn’t see, you know all those holes in your ears.”

 

“No, I don’t wear them much anymore but the holes are still
there.  Actually I had a bit of a struggle with some of them and I think
they’re going to be sore but not so bad.”

 

“Well, it’s perfect. Just different enough and with all the
metal work,” he pointed at her grinning face, “you give people things to think
about, it’s the best sort of disguise.

 

“Stand over there by the wall, the background is plain
enough and I have a setting on this camera for ID pictures.  You’re not allowed
to smile.”

 

“Okay.” 

 

The job was done quickly he, took several pictures.  “I might
need to get these printed, I can go to a supermarket while I’m out, I’ll see
what I need.  Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

 

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

 

She took the few steps towards him and held out her hand.

 

“Samuel, about last night.  Well, last night and this
morning, thank you.”

 

In response he simply wrapped his big arms around her and
drew her to him.

 

“No, Sylvie, no.  Thank you.” 

 

As she backed away she saw the glitter of tears on his dark
lashes and she ducked her head so he couldn’t see she too was overwhelmed.

BOOK: The Grave
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