‘Who – who was the man?’ she asks, throwing a worried glance at her husband before fastening her eyes back on us.
‘A Ralph Middleton. Did you know him at all?’
Their relief is almost palpable. ‘No, I’ve not heard of him,’ says Samuel. Did they expect it to be someone else? Josephine nods in agreement and her husband places a reassuring arm around her shoulders.
‘And if you need anything I’m just in that cabin over there. Bluebell,’ I say, pointing in the direction of where I’m staying. ‘I’m Jenna.’
They nod tersely and shut the door on us.
‘That’s odd,’ I say, in a low voice, as we head back, Dale lighting the way with his cumbersome torch. ‘Jay didn’t mention anyone booked in here when I saw him this afternoon.’
‘It all appears above board.’
‘Why would Jay put them in that cabin when he knows that’s where I suspected someone was dossing down?’
‘I have no idea. Maybe it was the only one available.’
‘They’re all available.’
‘Jenna.’ He sounds cross. ‘Stop trying to see things that aren’t there. Jay doesn’t have to run it past you every time someone is booked in.’
I feel a stab of hurt. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
By now we’ve reached the front door. I hesitate, wondering whether to invite him in. But the note that found its way into the fireplace makes me decide against it.
I turn the key in the lock and step over the threshold. I turn to assess him. He looks freezing, clutching his torch, and I feel a pang of sympathy for him. ‘Thank you for coming over,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry it turned out to be a mistake.’
He smiles wryly. ‘A good mistake,’ he says. ‘I’m glad it’s nothing more sinister.’
‘I guess we’ll never find out who was dossing there and why.’
‘It’s not like in books, Jenna. Not everything gets explained and tied up nicely in a neat little bow. This world is messy, complicated …’ He sighs. ‘It’s fine. I’m happy to help.’ He hesitates. And there it is again. Something unspoken between us. ‘Go. Go and get some sleep, it’s late.’
Reluctantly I close the door on him. It’s for the best, I tell myself, as I head back to my bed. I think of Ralph being murdered in his caravan, of being followed through the forest, and of the mystery squatter lurking around the cabins with his German Shepherd.
It’s best to trust nobody in this town.
38
No Going Back
As the days passed Stace felt John-Paul was slipping further and further away from her. Every time she tried to talk to him he’d reply with a monosyllable, like a stroppy teenager. She’d sit and read most of the day, next to Maggie, laid out on sun-loungers. Sometimes Derreck would lie next to them, although it was always her, rather than Maggie, he sought out to talk to. He listened when she told him her regret at not staying on at school and how she’d felt obliged to help out in her parents’ business instead, but that she was a ferocious reader, practically inhaling the books she might have been able to read had she been allowed to do A levels. He had a similar experience, telling her he had dropped out of high school to go travelling. But the more she chatted with Derreck the more withdrawn John-Paul became.
‘I don’t understand what’s going on with him,’ Stace said to Maggie, after they’d been in Thailand nearly a week.
‘Is it the Buddha thing?’ Despite Stace trying to persuade the others to take the Buddhas out of the country they had, so far, refused. It infuriated Stace. What harm could it do? But the others didn’t need the money as much as she and John-Paul did. Trevor, Martin and Griff all had good jobs in accountancy or engineering. Maggie was doing well as a beauty therapist, Hannah was a bookkeeper and Leonie worked in a nursing home.
‘It’s not happening anyway,’ she replied, slathering factor fifty over her shins. ‘Derreck said it had to be all of us or none.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Maggie blushed beneath her tan. ‘I just don’t feel comfortable …’
‘It’s fine. The money would have been nice, but I do understand.’
‘I’m surprised you were willing to do it. You’ve always been so – so careful.’
What could she say? That they needed the money? That she was fed up of never taking any risks? That she wanted to please Derreck and make him think she was a lot more than just a provincial girl from the sticks?
Maggie hesitated as though wanting to say something else. Eventually she said, ‘I don’t trust Derreck.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can’t put my finger on it. I think … I think the Buddha thing is more dodgy than he’s trying to make out. And how has he got all this money? I’d steer clear if I were you. John-Paul has the right idea.’
Stace frowned and adjusted her straw hat. ‘Has he said something?’
Maggie pulled her legs up and fanned her face with a hand. A trickle of sweat was running down her thigh. ‘No. It’s just a feeling I get. He seems keen on you.’
Stace’s heart thumped. ‘What? Who?’
‘You know who. Just be careful there, Stace. That’s all I’m saying.’
Excitement rippled through Stace. So it wasn’t her imagination? There was something between her and Derreck. Chemistry. Desire. Could John-Paul feel it too? Was that why he was withdrawing from her?
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she lied, pulling The Great Gatsby from her bag so she could hide her smile.
They made a habit of meeting up at night when everyone else was asleep and talked about everything, their childhoods, their dreams and ambitions. She felt like she knew more about Derreck than she did about her own boyfriend and she already knew she’d miss him when she returned to England in four days’ time. This, she realized, was her favourite part of the holiday, sitting beside him over a drink, with the musky scent of exotic flowers she didn’t know the names of, the dying embers of the barbecue and the sound of the crickets. They’d stay up until the sun started to rise and turned the sky a patchwork of pink and yellow.
‘I always thought I was happy,’ she told him that night, after her talk with Maggie. They were lying, as always, on adjacent sun-loungers but, unlike that first night, they were close together, so close that she could feel the heat from Derreck’s body. ‘I thought I was a homebody, not particularly ambitious, but now it feels like everything’s changed.’ Including my feelings for John-Paul, although she didn’t say that. If she was honest with herself, her relationship with John-Paul had been going downhill for months, even before he lost his job. She’d been taken in with the romance of him, a handsome stranger to their town, but he was miserable. And it had taken this holiday to make her see that so was she.
‘I hardly know anything about him,’ she said now. ‘He refuses to tell me what happened in Goa.’
Derreck sighed softly. ‘I don’t want to cross any line. JP is my mate. But on the other hand …’ Their bodies were turned in to each other, their faces inches apart. God, he was beautiful. ‘… I’ve come to feel …’ he placed his hand over his linen shirt, lowering his eyes ‘… well, you know.’