‘Really, there’s no need. I can get a taxi.’
‘I’m happy to drive you,’ insists Dale. He’s still standing on the threshold and he takes his car keys out of his pocket. ‘It’s a horrible night out there and it’ll take me ten minutes.’
‘That’s kind of you, Dale,’ I admit grudgingly.
‘No, please, it’s fine,’ Olivia says, looking mortified at the thought.
Dale holds up a hand. ‘I wouldn’t hear of you paying for a taxi.’ He turns to me and grins. ‘I’ll be back soon. A strong coffee on my return would be appreciated.’ He gives me a friendly wink.
And then he’s ushering a clearly uncomfortable Olivia out of the door.
31
Olivia
Is it her imagination or is there a flicker of something, chemistry perhaps, between Dale and Jenna? She’s sure he winked at her just now. She knows Jenna must be feeling vulnerable after her husband’s rejection but she’s only known him five minutes. Not that Olivia has much experience with men, only ever having been with Wesley.
Olivia decides it’s none of her business as she thanks Jenna and follows Dale down the driveway. She stumbles on the uneven path and has to grab Dale’s arm. ‘Whoa,’ he says. ‘Are you okay?’
‘No, it’s badly lit out here,’ she says, removing her hand from his arm, embarrassed.
‘It’s pretty bad,’ he agrees. ‘Mind your step here, there’s a big stone.’
She treads carefully behind him, grateful when she gets to his car.
‘So,’ says Dale, as she closes the passenger door and reaches for her seatbelt. He starts the ignition but doesn’t drive off. ‘I’m surprised you agreed to talk to Jenna.’
‘It was about time. I just hope something good comes out of it.’
He nods, just once, his eyes straight ahead. ‘I’m glad. And I know I spoke to you already about Ralph but I’d like to have a more formal chat about the accident. Maybe tomorrow? I did leave a few messages with your mum.’
She’s surprised to hear this. Her mum never said. ‘I gave statements at the time. Do you really need to speak to me again?’
‘I do, yes.’ His tone is crisp now, official.
‘Then, fine.’
Dale starts the car. Radio X blasts from the speakers and Dale turns it down. ‘Sorry.’ He grins. ‘I have it much too loud when I’m driving on my own. My mum used to tell me I’d go deaf.’
Olivia is silent as Dale turns right out of the forest and onto the Devil’s Corridor. She hates this road.
Eventually she says, ‘Jenna told me about the photos you found in Ralph’s caravan. Do you have them on you? I’d like to see them.’
His jaw tightens. ‘I was going to talk to you about them when I saw you tomorrow.’
‘I’d like to see them now, if possible.’
‘Okay.’ His mouth twists into a smile. ‘I’ll show them to you in a minute when I’ve stopped. So … what else did you and Jenna talk about?’
He’s trying to sound nonchalant but she’s not fooled. ‘I told her you went out with Tamzin, if that’s what you mean.’ As soon as the words are out of her mouth she instantly regrets them. The mood in the car changes, and when he answers his voice sounds strange, as though his throat is constricted.
‘Right.’ There’s that tone again. Officious. Tight.
She sneaks a glance at his profile. His mouth is set hard. She’s always thought that Dale was good-looking in a grungy kind of way. Not conventionally handsome but he has sparkly hazel eyes and good hair, even if it’s always unkempt. When he was going out with Tamzin he wore Adidas Samba trainers and retro T-shirts. It seems strange to see him so smartly dressed now. She almost expects him to have trainers on beneath his suit trousers.
There are no other vehicles on the road and she can’t help but be reminded of that night twenty years ago. She grips the edges of the seat. She’s never driven again, despite the doctors’ assurances that using an automatic wouldn’t put too much pressure on her left leg. It’s bad enough being a passenger. She’d rather walk or ride a horse, even though she knows it’s completely irrational, considering how dangerous horse riding can be.
The atmosphere between them has turned and now she just wants to get out of the car. She shouldn’t have told him. Had she done it to rile him? She suspects so. If she’s honest with herself she’s never really liked him. She knows Wesley is brash, and a lot of people find him arrogant, but he is what he is. What you see is what you get with Wesley – most of the time. Dale Crawford has always taken time, even back then, to hone and project a certain image to the world. One she felt was fake to his true self. She’s aware that she might have formed this opinion because of Tamzin and the way he’d treated her, which wasn’t great when he went off to university, or because after the accident she no longer trusted the police force. She might be being unfair to Dale. Either way she wants to get out of the car.
‘You can just let me out here,’ she says, as they drive into the high street.
To her relief he pulls over. ‘Are you sure? I’m happy to drop you back at the stables.’ And then he nods. ‘Ah, you’re staying with Wes tonight, then.’
Wesley’s flat is only a few buildings along. Even though she’s not planning on going there she grunts in what she hopes is a noncommittal way. She knows Dale and Wes dislike each other – they’re as different as cat and mouse. She’s just not sure which one is which.
He leans into her footwell and pulls his briefcase onto his lap to open it. ‘Here,’ he says, handing her an A4 sheet in a plastic wallet. ‘They’ve been photocopied.’
She takes them from him, frowning at the photos, still shocked that they were found in Ralph’s caravan. She looks so young, so carefree in them. So blissfully unaware of how suddenly her life would change. She remembers pulling into that petrol station. It was the day before the accident and she was filling up for the weekend. Had she felt watched while she was there? She can’t recall. Although … another is also familiar. ‘This,’ she says, pointing to one in which she’s walking a young mare, a strawberry roan that they’d only looked after for a short time, on a halter down a country lane towards a field. ‘This is one of the places I remember seeing the man with the scar. He was sitting in a lay-by in his van, smoking a cigarette and just watching me. And then he got out and called to me.’ It was the time she was telling Jenna about. ‘He must have taken this photo.’
‘You didn’t see anyone with him? Nobody in the passenger seat?’
She thinks back. It was so long ago but, no, she’s sure it was just one man in the van. ‘He was alone. I’m sure of it.’ Had Ralph been there too, in the vicinity? Was it just a coincidence? ‘I wish I could remember more,’ she says now, handing them back to him.
‘If you do, please let me know. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Thanks for the lift,’ she says, getting out of the car. She watches as he pulls away from the kerb, and then she’s alone. The high street is quiet, even though it’s only seven fifteen in the evening. The Christmas lights strewn between telegraph poles flicker red and silver against the inky sky. She begins to walk, thrusting her hands into the pockets of her yellow raincoat. As she passes the pizzeria she notices a few tables are occupied in the window – one by a young couple she doesn’t recognize and the other by Sally’s mum and dad. Light spills onto the pavement and she presses her chin to her chest and hurries past before they spot her. She’s near Wesley’s flat and she rushes on, desperate to get home. She should have let Dale drive her all the way but being in that car with him made her feel claustrophobic. She turns left, down the side road and past The Raven – even that’s quiet tonight. This is where the shops and houses fall away to countryside. Is it her imagination or can she hear footsteps behind her? She’d underestimated how afraid she’d feel walking in the dark on her own, even though it’s not late. It’s not seven thirty yet. In her mind the journey on foot from the high street to the stables isn’t far, but she’s unused to walking it at night. She hadn’t considered how intimidated she’d feel with the countryside pressing in on her from both sides, how the lack of streetlights would unnerve her, how her footsteps would echo so that it felt like someone was behind her.