No Going Back (7 page)

The sheep path was too small to be marked on the map, and the only way to find out if it did indeed lead to the wood was to follow it. Glancing at his watch, Daniel decided he had time to investigate and, with a word to the dog, set off at a jog along the narrow path.

The apparent straightness of the sheep track was somewhat misleading, as it meandered across the open space, circumnavigating boggy areas, and it took Daniel a quarter of an hour to reach the trees. After another ten minutes or so, he emerged from the gloom of the woodland on to a stony track that ran along the back of the fields he'd seen on the map. At this point he was at a stand. There was no obvious point of access to the property in front of him, and it was impossible to guess which way the girls might have come: right or left. If indeed they had come that way at all.

He began to retrace his steps. It was time to head for Taunton to pick up Drew. Another day he would try and find the lane from the other end, but realistically without Katya's help he had little hope of tracking Reynolds down.

As was often the case, Daniel left Taunton that evening with a mixture of relief and regret. In the short period he'd lived there, both his working and home lives had been tense and unhappy, his new colleagues wary of him and Amanda constantly blaming him for taking her away from her friends, though the choice hadn't been his.

Even in Bristol most of his socializing had been done within the tight-knit community of the police service and there he knew he had precious few supporters remaining. As for Amanda's friends, he had no doubt that she'd have poisoned their minds against him. As soon as it had become clear that his reputation had suffered irreparable damage, she'd lost no time in distancing herself from him, playing the victim and milking sympathy from those around her.

Usually the enjoyment Daniel derived from his time with Drew balanced out the unhappy associations the town held for him, but this time the visit had only added to his stress. From the start Drew had been quiet, and as the afternoon wore on, he seemed increasingly withdrawn, even their trip to the bowling alley failing to revive his spirits.

Over a luxurious hot chocolate in the restaurant of the complex, Daniel attempted to discover the reason behind his son's depression.

‘Something on your mind, Drew? You seem a little quiet.'

Drew made a figure of eight with his straw in the cream on top of his drink and said nothing. He was wearing a navy hooded sweatshirt with some meaningless logo on the front, and a pair of expensive-looking trainers.

‘Are you in trouble? Is it Mum? Or something at school? You're not being bullied?'

Drew shook his head mutely, but Daniel had enough experience of kids to know that whatever was on his mind, deep down he wanted to share it. If it were something he hadn't wanted to discuss, he would have made up some other excuse for his behaviour. If this was a cry for help, Daniel was going to do his damnedest to make sure he got it.

‘Is it something
I've
said or done?'

Again the headshake.

‘Well, can I help? You know I'll do anything I can.'

‘Anything?' Drew looked up with hope in his eyes. His unruly brown fringe flopped across his forehead and he pushed it away with impatient fingers. ‘Do you mean that?'

‘Of course. If I can.'

‘Then can I come and live with you? Please, Dad? Please?'

Oh God!
Anything
, he'd said. Yes, anything but that. He'd walked right into that one. But to be fair Drew hadn't mentioned it since the early days of their separation, and he'd assumed the boy had accepted the idea as impossible.

‘Drew, listen . . .'

‘You said anything! Dad, please!'

‘You know I can't. It's not possible.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I haven't got a proper house, because I'm working six days a week, because you've got school, and not least because your mother wouldn't let you.'

‘She couldn't stop me if I just went.'

‘Don't you believe it! She'd take me to court to get you back, and I'm afraid she'd win.'

‘But we could go away somewhere,' Drew persisted with the easy confidence of an eight-year-old.

‘And live on what? Come on, Drew, you know it's not that simple.'

‘You could join the police again, or drive lorries. Please, Dad. I hate living with Amanda.'

‘
Amanda?
' Daniel was momentarily distracted. ‘Who told you to call her that?'

‘She did.'

‘Since when?'

‘A few weeks ago.'

‘And do you like it?'

‘It's a bit weird,' Drew admitted. ‘But lots of the kids at school call their parents by their first names. It's quite cool, really.'

Daniel didn't agree, but it wasn't the issue at that moment.

‘So if she's so cool, why don't you like living with her?'

‘She's always going out or having friends round. She hasn't got time for me. She never does fun stuff like you and I do.'

‘But you know if you lived with me, we wouldn't do this sort of thing all the time,' Daniel pointed out. ‘It's just a treat because I don't see you very often.'

‘It wouldn't matter,' Drew assured him earnestly. ‘I wouldn't care.'

Daniel sighed. ‘You would. You'd soon get bored, miles away from all your friends. But it can't happen, anyway. I'm sorry, Drew. It just can't.'

Drew had sat and stared at him, his dark-lashed brown eyes slowly filling up with tears until one spilled over and ran down his cheek to drop off his chin and into his half-full mug of chocolate.

‘Drew, don't,' Daniel pleaded, the sight of those tears a far more compelling persuasion than any spoken word could be. ‘I would if I could, I promise you, but I can't . . .'

Remembering the conversation now, as he accelerated on to the M5 and headed for home, he felt like a traitor. He had no worries that Amanda was neglecting the boy – for all her faults, she had always been a good mother – but to have to drop Drew off at the door with their issues unresolved felt like failing him. Daniel knew the memory of his son's drooping posture and unhappy eyes would stay with him for the whole of the next fortnight.

He was halfway home when his phone rang. A glance told him it was Amanda and he pulled over to answer it.

‘What have you been saying to Drew?' she demanded without preamble.

Daniel groaned inwardly. He could do without an earful from his ex-wife.

‘If this is about him wanting to come and live with me, I haven't said anything at all to encourage him, I promise you.'

‘Then why's he suddenly started on about it again? Tell me that. He hasn't said a word for weeks until today.'

‘Well, it's clearly been on his mind. He was very quiet all afternoon.'

‘He's been fine until now,' she insisted, intent on fixing the blame.

‘Well, Drew says you've been out quite a lot, so maybe you just haven't noticed,' Daniel countered, unwisely allowing himself to be drawn into the brewing row.

‘How
dare
you criticize me? I'm young and I need a life of my own – my own friends. It was hard enough starting again after you dragged us all away from Bristol. Anyway, he's never left alone, if that's what you're suggesting.'

‘No, that's not what I'm saying. I just meant that he's a quiet lad anyway, and it would be easy to miss the signs if you were busy.'

‘I know him far better than you ever have, or ever will, come to that,' she said spitefully. ‘You were always too busy working all hours of the day and night. And now you see him once a fortnight and think you can tell me what he's feeling! I don't think so!'

Daniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting this degenerate into a slanging match would benefit no one. Besides, there was a measure of truth in what she said: he
had
worked long hours, and shifts were never easy. Sometimes between Drew's school hours and his own work, he'd barely seen the boy for several days at a time.

‘Are you seeing someone?' he asked then, wondering if that was why she'd gone on the attack.

There was a pause and then Amanda said with a note of uncertainty, ‘Drew didn't tell you that. He doesn't know about it. Have you been spying on me?'

‘Don't be ridiculous,' Daniel said witheringly. ‘Do you think I haven't got anything better to do?'

‘Well, so what if I am seeing someone? What's it got to do with you?'

‘Nothing. But if you're serious about this guy, I think you should tell Drew. Make him part of it. Maybe he's feeling insecure.'

‘My God! I don't need relationship advice from you – of all people!' she stated hotly. ‘All I need from you is that you stop filling his head with ideas that aren't going to happen, ever! Do you understand me?'

‘Loud and clear,' Daniel said wearily. There was only ever one winner in an argument with Amanda. Over the years he'd learned that you just had to plant the seed of an idea and hope that she thought it over when she calmed down. And to be fair, she usually did.

It was two days later, when he had finished a delivery near Launceston, that he first got possible news of Katya. He'd just climbed back into the cab and was checking the address of his next drop when he had a call on his mobile. A glance at the display told him nothing; the number was unknown to him.

‘Hello?'

‘Is that Daniel Whelan?' A woman's voice, clear and well modulated.

‘Yes. Do I know you?'

‘Not yet,' came the reply. ‘I'm a friend of Tamzin Ellis. She might possibly have mentioned me. Hilary McEwen-Smith. I run a pony-trekking centre in Goats Tor.'

‘Oh, yes. Yes, she did. Did she tell you about the girl I'm looking for?'

‘Yes. That's why I'm ringing. I had a girl who fits that description turn up looking for work this very morning.'

‘So what did you do?' Daniel held his breath. ‘Is she there now?'

‘She is. I wouldn't normally take someone on without a reference, but knowing you were looking for her, I told her I would give her a week's trial. She seems a nice enough girl. Foreign, would that be right?'

‘It would.' Daniel could hardly believe his luck.

‘And Tamzin says you'd like to speak to her . . .'

‘I would. Very much.'

‘Can I ask, is she in trouble?'

‘No. At least, as far as I know, she hasn't done anything wrong,' Daniel said. ‘But I think she needs help. The thing is, she doesn't realize I'm trying to help her and she's already run away from me once.'

‘Tamzin says you're a delivery driver for Fred Bowden.'

‘That's right.'

‘That's interesting because the girl – she said her name was Katy, by the way – she asked me where I get my horse feed from,' Hilary told him. ‘So if you're thinking of coming here, perhaps it might be a good idea to leave your lorry behind . . .'

In the end, they hatched a plan to allow Daniel to try and get close enough to win Katya's confidence before she had a chance to run again.

Making a lengthy detour from his scheduled delivery route, Daniel parked the lorry behind the White Buck Inn in the sprawling village of Goats Tor and left it with the windows half open and Taz lying across the front seat.

He had no qualms about leaving the three-quarter-full lorry: the trailer was protected by a coded locking system, and nobody in their right mind was going to try and get in the cab. Nevertheless, he was uncomfortably aware that he still had three drops to do and that he would almost certainly be very late indeed for the rest of his round.

He toyed with the idea of ringing Bowden and explaining the situation, but in spite of his earlier interest in Katya's story, Daniel wasn't sure he could rely on his boss being willing to relax his strict rule of punctuality. He decided that rather than be forced to disobey the man, he would do better not to ask at all.

A brisk ten-minute walk brought him to the cattle grid that marked the edge of the Dartmoor National Park, and shortly after this, following Hilary's instructions, he left the road for a gravel track marked with a bridleway sign.

The track ran along the edge of the moorland with a scattering of ancient oaks and silver birches on the right, while on its left a steep wooded slope dropped down to a stream in a rocky gully, some way below.

After a hundred yards or so, Daniel slowed his pace to a stroll, waiting to hear the sound of hooves catching him up. Rather than turning up at the yard, he and Hilary had agreed that this apparent ‘chance' encounter was probably the least likely to alarm the girl.

Daniel was impressed with Katya's reasoning. It was smart thinking, questioning the stable owner about her feed supplier. She'd obviously remembered the TFS lorry in Tamzin's yard, connected it with Daniel and his request to speak to her and didn't want to run the risk of being seen by him again.

It wasn't surprising that she'd run; after all, she had no reason to expect anyone to want to help her and she may even have suspected him of being in league with Reynolds, especially if she'd caught sight of Taz in the lorry. She was showing herself to be both tough and resourceful, but then the way she'd managed to throw Taz off her scent had demonstrated that.

After a minute or two, Daniel heard the sound he'd been waiting for and a glance over his shoulder revealed two ponies approaching at a trot. Resisting the temptation of watching them come, he kept his gaze steadfastly ahead until they were quite close. When they slowed to a walk, he stepped to one side and looked up at the two riders with a friendly smile.

‘Hello, Daniel!' the older of the two ladies exclaimed on a convincing note of happy recognition. ‘How are you?'

Both riders were mounted on the sturdy brown weight-carrying animals Daniel had come to recognize as the indigenous Dartmoor pony. They stopped and he went up to the closer of the two and stroked its neck, looking up at its rider.