I shiver. The air is cold at this height, even for July.
“Let’s go back down,” I suggest.
“Alright, how about the Embankment next? The Tate Modern to Westminster?”
I take his arm.
“Can we get an iced coffee?”
After we get back to the flat Jason naps on the sofa like an old man. I’ve completely thrashed him.
That evening, Jac’s mother Callista and her partner Sam come around for supper. Callista lives in London these days, though she’s spent lots of time before in Wales.
She’s artistic and flamboyant. Her long silver dreadlocked hair is pulled off her face and garnished with dozens of beads. She coos over Jac and Annie’s new tattoos, and much to Sam’s horror starts discussing getting another one for herself, right across her back.
Of course, Callista’s been absolutely everywhere in the world, and by the time we’re eating my head is spinning with travel ideas. But I’m starting to feel normal about myself, relaxing in their company.
Until she mentions my scar.
“You don’t mind me saying, darling, but that looks very red. What’ve you been putting on it?”
“Err... I’ve been covering it with make-up.”
“That’s no good, sweetie. Manuka honey, that’s what you want.”
“I’ll try it,” I answer politely, trying to close down the conversation.
“How did it happen?”
I have the feeling that this is going to happen a lot on my travels and I’m going to need to toughen up, work out strategies to deal with it. On this occasion though, I don’t need to. Jac jumps in and answers for me.
“Oh! Claire, that’s awful,” she exclaims after. “What happened to him?”
“He pleaded guilty to grievous bodily harm so they dropped the attempted murder charge. He got three years. He’ll be out in eighteen months.”
Another reason to leave.
Cal tuts.
“And what happened to Sion?”
Jason glances at Jac. I can see that he isn’t sure if we should be talking about Sion’s new identity publicly.
“He’s fine. He’s gone away for a bit.”
Jac swallows a gulp of beer.
“They tried to charge him with murder, Cal. They had me and Annie in for questioning too.”
Cal stares at him horrified. She’s clearly at a loss for words. For the first time ever.
“Jac’s apparently only with me for my money and the farm.”
Annie winks at Cal, trying to lighten the mood, but Cal’s face has turned a stony-grey and I can tell that it has upset her deeply.
“What?” Sam asks Cal quietly as the table falls silent.
“I’m shocked, that’s all,” she mutters. “It’s worse than living in a fascist state.”
“Well, it’s all settled now,” I tell them. “Sion was free to go.”
“But you’ve still got doubts about Sion?” she asks me, suddenly.
My fork clangs onto my plate, and I mouth an apology and take a drink of my wine. Cal has read my thoughts.
Later, as she gets ready to leave, Cal hugs me tightly, “Bon voyage, darling, you’re going to have the most wonderful time.”
She whispers in my ear, “You still love him. He didn’t kill Glyn. Go find him, sweetie. And then never let him go.”
I shake my head. She means well but Sion’s gone. Now I need to find myself.
The next day I’m up early, repacking my rucksack, doing last-minute checks.
Jac and Annie come with me to St Pancras to see me off. I hug Annie tightly as we say our goodbyes. In a few hours, I’ll be in Paris. My big world adventure is about to begin and I can’t wait.
Chapter 7
---------?---------
Shaun sat with Frank in the canoe in the middle of the lake. It was the start of the season and two fishing lines were in the water, but only one was snagging the biting trout, and it wasn’t Shaun’s.
It was the first time he’d seen the newly painted-up lodge from the water and Frank caught Shaun studying it.
“You’d never think it was the same place. Good on ya, Shaun, ya’ve done a crackin’ job.”
The white painted windows popped out of the subtle putty-coloured paintwork, making the lodge look large and homely.
“Yeah. The biggest pain was that hole in the roof, had to re-timber and dry line the rooms. Still a lot of work to do redecorating.”
“No pain, no gain, mate. Least ya got the hot water going now.”
“I’ve got Wifi too. And one very noisy rooster that wakes me up at the crack of dawn every morning.”
“Rowdy,” Frank chuckled. “Celia put her foot down. It was either get rid of that bird or she was putting him in the pot.”
“I’m feeding him now, but he’s still too fast for me to catch.”
Shaun had spent hours trying to coax, cajole and chase Rowdy back into his newly refurbished chicken coop. But Rowdy had a taste for freedom and was not a willing participant. The best he could hope for was to feed him and hope that he’d become more tame. In the meantime, he was getting used to the six a.m. wake-up calls.
Once he was settled, Vern in the hardware store said he’d help him get some layers. He liked the idea of having fresh eggs every morning.
In the space of a month, Shaun had turned the place back into the sumptuous lodge it once was.
But what was he going to do with all those bedrooms? That big barn? And the land?
The place had potential, but he wasn’t quite sure for what exactly.
“Can we stop calling it Jake’s Place now?”
“Too right. Lake Lodge. That’s what ya called it, didn’t ya?”
“Yes. Lake Lodge.”
The week before, he’d taken a shopping trip to Auckland with Celia.
White goods, electronics, furnishings; he could feel his pulse rising as he tapped in his pin code and felt his bank balance depleting before his eyes. But this place was his forever home. Even if he wanted to, he thought grimly, he could never go back.
Celia, he noticed, clammed up whenever he mentioned Jake. And it was no coincidence. He got a weird look from the folk in town too whenever he mentioned where he was living.
It was obvious that some tragedy had befallen Jake. But he had enough ghosts of his own from Helmand and Syria to deal with, without adding Jake to the collection.
And how could he be spooked, when every morning he watched the spring mists rolling like curls of smoke across the mirrored water?
Celia and a few of their friends and neighbours had arrived by the time Shaun and Frank were back on dry land with a passel of trout.
Shaun had been determined to hold fast to his promise of a barbecue, and Celia had got a group of neighbours together as a housewarming. Everyone was bringing a plate she’d told him and then quickly explained what that meant. Basically, it meant no work for him, apart from the outside table he’d constructed. Soon it was covered in bowls of salads and side dishes his neighbours brought as they arrived. And the smell of charcoal and cooking began to waft across the porch and onto the sandy shoreline below the house.
Frank took over the cooking duties while Celia introduced Shaun to neighbours and friends. The men invited him to go fishing with them, and worryingly after a couple of glasses of pinot, Celia started to take a vocal interest in Shaun’s love life. By the end of the evening, she’d promised to fix him up with every single or divorced woman she knew in the town. He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle that but he needed to end this new line of interest once Celia had sobered up.
“So, what next?” Frank asked Shaun as they leaned against the island in the newly refurbished kitchen.
Shaun took out his phone and clicked on the contact that the British Consulate had given him.
“I s’pose it’s high time I saw about getting a job.”
???
As the evening drew late and everyone had gone home, Shaun relaxed on the sof
a in the lounge, alone. Firing up his new games consul onto his new big screen, he loaded his favourite game. It was the same one he used to play online with Jason when he was laid over in some far-flung place and Shaun was in London or on a job.
He couldn’t believe it. As he was thinking about Jason, his friend’s icon simultaneously flashed up on the screen. Jason was online too.
It was too tempting, and a little drunk he clicked onto messages. Before he thought better of it, he was already connected.
Shaun: Jase? Are you there?
Jason: Hey! Sion? Is that you? How you doing, man?
Shaun: Hi Jase. I’m good
Jason: Great to hear from you. So, you a ghost now?
Shaun: Pretty much
Jason: Where are you?
Shaun considered his answer. The messaging was pretty secure. He was pretty confident that no one would hack his games accounts.
Shaun: Delete this convo after, right?
Jason: Yeah, no worries