Scattering Like Light (25 page)

My good mood made me reckless. “Actually it looks like he might be here by then.”

He sounded as if I had winded him. “Oh. So he’s flying in? Sod it!”

“I’m so sorry, Max, but I know you understand. Our timing has just been appalling. Maybe in another life…”

“Yeah, right. Well, let me know if he doesn’t make the flight and you fancy using the ticket.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated softly. “I really am.”

I clicked off the phone and tried not to think about what I had just done. I really didn’t want to hurt him, but there was no alternative. Looking up I realised that I could no longer see the car as it was blocked from view by a large people-carrier and the family deep in discussion on the pavement next to it. It was a huge vehicle, more of a van than anything else, and it completely dwarfed the cars on either side. Mumbling “Excuse me”, I edged around them, anxious to get close to our car so that we could leave as soon as Grace was back. I leaned on the bonnet for a moment but it was too muggy to be in the sunshine; inside the car I’d at least be in the shade. I opened the door and automatically checked the back seat. It was completely empty. 

I wrenched open the back door, hoping that I was wrong, that Catherine was just slumped down out of sight. Then I saw the page torn from a map, with
Thanks for the lift,
losers!
scribbled over it in the same childish hand.

I couldn’t believe that she had tricked us so easily. I stood up on the edge of the door to see if it gave me a better view around the car park but it didn’t. There were people and cars everywhere, and all Catherine needed was a lift into town or down the motorway in either direction, and she would be gone forever. I couldn’t let that happen; she was still my only chance, the only way I was ever going to be able to get Callum over to me.

I scanned the heads of the people but couldn’t see her distinctive, long blonde hair anywhere. I ran round the car and rudely interrupted the people on the pavement. “Sorry, but my friend, the one who was in the car, did you see where she went?”

“Oh no, sorry, love,” said the rather matronly mother in a gentle Irish lilt. “I didn’t see a thing.”

“It’s really important. She’s not well and shouldn’t have got out of the car. Did none of you see anything?”

“Maybe the girls in the back of the van saw something. Just a sec.” I thought she was going to go to the van door and ask them, but instead she bellowed, “Girls! Get out here now.” Nothing much happened and she gave me a look. She put her hands on her hips
and took a deep breath. “Rosie, Megan and Amy, get out here this minute!” All around the car park heads were turning, and finally the rear door of the people carrier slid back to reveal three young teenage girls. I turned quickly down between the cars to get to them.

“Please, the girl in the car – who was in
this
car,” I tapped it on the roof, “did you see where she went? It’s really important. I need to find her now.”

The three of them looked at each other, and seemed about to burst into giggles. “Please! It’s really important,” I urged.

The oldest one finally looked me in the eye. “She left just after we arrived, maybe about five minutes ago. I didn’t see where she went.”

Five minutes. Enough time to get into someone else’s car and be away, or she could be hiding somewhere in the car park. I ran, shouting my thanks as I scanned up and down the rows of vehicles, hoping that Catherine was still trying to persuade someone to give her a lift. But cars were coming and going all the time; it was an impossible task. I stopped at the end of the row, gasping for breath, my hands on my knees. But after a few seconds I realised that I didn’t have the time to waste on trying to recover. I had to keep going or lose my only chance –
Callum’s
only chance. I would be better off at the exit, looking at all the cars that were leaving. They all had to go out the same way so if she wasn’t already gone I might be able to stop her. Fishing out my mobile as I ran, I called Grace.

“Hi,” she answered breezily. “Won’t be long, I’m nearly at the front of the queue now.”

“She’s gone,” I gasped, not wanting to stop running to speak.

“Gone?”

“Left a note. Gone. I’m going to the exit to check cars that are leaving.” I sucked in another lungful of air. “You check in there, OK?”

“Crap! The lying little—”

“No time. Go and search.”

“On it. I’ll call you back.” Grace had turned brisk and efficient, and I knew that she would have the place thoroughly checked in no time at all. I had made it through the coach and lorry park and in front of me was the petrol station. On the forecourt was a man in a uniform, picking up the litter. I ran towards him and he looked up, startled, as I approached.

“I’m looking for a girl, maybe twenty, long dark-blonde hair, wearing jeans and a baggy top. Have you seen her come through here?”

He looked at me uncomprehendingly. “I’m sorry?” he said in heavily accented English. “I no understand.”

I was too impatient to try and explain. “Never mind,” I shouted over my shoulder as I went on. Within a few minutes I was at the side of the exit road, peering into all the cars as they passed. But there were hundreds, and lorries and coaches too. It wouldn’t have taken much to sneak on to a coach. She could be miles down the road already. I realised that she wouldn’t have gone into the service area where Grace might have seen her, and I knew it was hopeless. I slumped down on the kerb and dropped my head into my hands. I couldn’t believe it. How had I gone so quickly from being delighted at the thought of being with Callum forever to total despair at the side of the road? If I hadn’t got distracted talking to Max I would have noticed her trying to leave. A huge wail of guilt and frustration escaped me and the tears streamed down my face. Slamming my fists into the kerb, I wept.

I wasn’t there long before a car drew up beside me. Peering up through my hair I saw the blue flashing lights on the top.

“Not again,” I muttered to myself thickly through the tears, reaching for a tissue and trying to control my breathing enough to speak.

“Now then, miss, what’s up?” said the officer in a kind tone, crouching down beside me.

“I’ve … I’ve lost someone,” I tried to say, but it came out as incomprehensible noise. I blew my nose loudly and tried again. “Lost someone. Was taking them to London but they’ve run off.”

“I see. And just how old is this person?”

“About twenty.”

“Is anything missing? Did they steal anything from you?”

I shook my head. I really didn’t want to get the police involved, and unless they were able to stop all the traffic on the motorway they weren’t going to be able to help anyway.

“Seems she just wanted a lift this far, then ditched us.”

“Well, if she’s scarpered there’s not much I can do, I’m afraid.” He looked me up and down for a second. “Are you hurt?” he asked finally. I shook my head again, not wanting to speak. “I’m going to have to take you back to your car, miss. You can’t stay here.”

It was easier to give in, and I slid into the back of the patrol car. The smell of air freshener was overpowering, and if it hadn’t been cool from the air conditioning I would have felt quite sick. Muttering my thanks I got out as quickly as possible and walked into the service station. My phone buzzed as I crossed the food hall.

“Did you find her?” demanded Grace. “She’s not in here. I’ve checked pretty much everywhere.”

“She’s gone.”

“Are you sure? It’s a big place.”

“She’ll be on a bus going somewhere. There were dozens of them in the coach park. Where are you now?”

“Actually, I’m right here.” She tapped me on the shoulder as she said it.

I hugged her tightly, squeezing my eyes closed so that I didn’t cry. “I can’t believe she did that. We had a deal!”

“She has absolutely no morals, you know that. Just be grateful that she didn’t run off after she had taken all your money.” We stood together, a small island of still in the constant stream of people getting food, buying drinks, or heading for the loos, and Grace stroked my back rhythmically, as if I were a child who needed comforting. But a cold pit of despair had opened in my heart, and all the stroking in the world wasn’t going to be able to help.

Back in the car Grace looked at the note that Catherine had left. “Cheeky mare! She’s torn a page out of my new
A to Z
.”

“I’ll get you another one, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried, just cross. Do you think the fact that she’s written on the Thames is some kind of clue?” asked Grace, examining it from all angles.

“It’s the only clear bit of space on that page, so I doubt it. It wouldn’t be like her to give us any kind of help, anyway.” I tossed the book on to the rear seat as we set off.

“I do wish that you didn’t need her so badly. Is she really your only hope? Are you sure there isn’t anything else you can do?”

I shook my head, then realised she couldn’t see that as she was driving towards the slip road back on to the motorway. “No,
there’s nothing. That’s what Veronica told me. It’s Catherine or death for the Dirges,” I said, peering around desperately, just in case Catherine was about to appear between the parked coaches, but there was no sign. I slumped back into my seat, defeated.

Grace reached over and gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze. “We can’t avoid talking about this any more, Alex. I know that you didn’t want to before, not when there was hope of bringing the Dirges back to life, but without Catherine you’re going to have to think about letting them die.”

I couldn’t speak, but just sat, staring out of the window across the countryside in front of us, not really taking in the gathering clouds.

“You should do it, Alex.”

“I can’t,” I whispered. “I just can’t bear it. I love Callum so much, the thought of not being to be able to be together is just awful. We’ve been through so much already, and we were so close to being together…” My voice was scratchy but I was beyond tears. The idea of losing Callum again, and permanently, turned my heart into a gaping void. It was all I could do to breathe.

Grace was silent for a moment, and when I glanced at her she was frowning hard and chewing her lip. “What is it?” I asked after a few moments.

“How many Dirges are there?”

“I don’t know, maybe a couple of hundred?”

“And their lives are made up of unrelenting misery with no way out?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So that’s two hundred desperate souls, and you are their only hope of release?” I nodded miserably as she stole a quick glance at me. “Then you don’t have a choice; you must help them.”

“But what if I can find Catherine in the future? There might still be some hope!”

“You said that the power she has at the moment will wear off, as it has for Veronica. Do you know how long you have before that happens?”

“No,” I said miserably.

“And you can’t guarantee that when – or if – you find her you’ll be able to persuade her to help anyway.”

“I know.”

She was silent again for a minute while she negotiated her way past a large lorry that was grinding along in the slow lane. “Damn it, it’s going to rain,” she muttered under her breath. “I hate driving in the rain.”

“Do you really think I should do it then, kill them all?”

“Do you remember what you told me about your work experience week? With the little dog?”

Of course I remembered. I remembered his soft eyes, his licking tongue, his appalling injuries. And I remembered with perfect clarity what the vet had said to me that day. “We can stop the suffering, and sometimes it’s kinder to do just that. Existence is not the same as life for these little guys, and we need to know when to exercise that judgement.” And remembering that, I knew what I had to do, and I knew that waiting any longer was cruel.

It was time to let Callum go.

The trip back to London dragged on. I was desperate to talk to Callum, to share a few more moments now that I’d made my decision. I knew it was the right decision, but I still wanted to have another hour at the top of the dome, a last opportunity to hold him close before…

Every time I thought of what I would have to do next I could feel panic rising in my chest. I watched the wipers flick back and forth as the rain pelted down, unaware of anything but my pain. Grace kept silent; she knew I was in no state to talk, and she had to concentrate on driving.