Left for Dead Page 13

  ‘Yes, agreed,’ Will confirmed. ‘I’ll text you if I find her. But no longer than nine o’clock. That’s too late for her to be out on her own without checking in with us.’

  He looked like he was about to move forward to kiss her goodbye but thought better of it. Will popped his head around the lounge door, thanked Isla for her help and wished George well, then he was on his way. George took it as his cue not to overstay his welcome and made his own exit, exchanging phone numbers with Isla and suggesting that they meet up for a coffee sometime.

  ‘I’ll need to be getting back to poor old Una,’ he said, ‘I don’t like to leave her on her own for too long; she likes the company.’

  It was nearing eight o’clock by the time Isla put on her coat and came into the kitchen to check out for the day. Charlotte had been watching the clock, urging Lucia to get in touch and cursing that she hadn’t.

  ‘Oh, by the way, we got a new booking this evening,’ Isla said, putting on her gloves. ‘It came in by email, while you were out. I managed to get into the laptop to check. He reckons he knows you - he put a little message in the Special Requirements section.’

  ‘Oh yes, who’s that then?’ Charlotte asked. ‘It must be someone we used to know when we were students. Somebody else has spotted us in the local paper, no doubt.’

  ‘It’s a Mr Craven,’ Isla replied, trying to recall the details of the booking. ‘A Mr Bryce Craven. No sorry, it wasn’t Bryce. His name is Bruce, Bruce Craven. Do you know him?’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  1984 - Sandy Beaches Holiday Camp

  Charlotte wished that day could have lasted forever. Will provided a complete release from the pressure she’d felt being around Bruce. He was easy company, fun and he made her laugh. The day passed in no time, moving through the arcades, stopping for candy floss and spending most of the afternoon in the amusement park.

  Charlotte was clutching the cuddly toy that Will had won on the bingo. Charlotte had never played before, but Will seemed to be an expert on the quiet.

  ‘Come on, it’s great fun!’ he said as the amplified voice of a bingo caller grabbed their attention when they strolled past another arcade.

  ‘Legs eleven, number 11,’ came the caller’s voice. ‘We have a house call from the lady in the end seat. We’ll just come and check your numbers darling. Playing again for a line or full house - a full house wins any prize that you see…’

  ‘I’ll show you what to do,’ Will reassured her, gently taking her arm and encouraging her over to the arcade.

  They got carried away and played several games in a row. When Will shouted ‘House!’ Charlotte could barely believe it.

  ‘Choose anything you want,’ he said to her.

  ‘I’ll forgo the bow and arrow toy and the roman gladiator armour set… how about that sinister teddy over there? The one with the rainbow fur and the piercing eyes? It looks like it’s about to murder somebody.’

  They laughed their way along the street, and for a moment - just for a few seconds - Charlotte forgot what they would be returning to in the evening. She’d have to lose the toy before she even spoke to Bruce. He had a habit of homing in on things like that straight away.

  ‘Doesn’t that chap over there work in the kitchens?’ Will said, stopping suddenly on the pavement. ‘Don’t make it too obvious, but he’s on the promenade side of the road, underneath the Danger Mouse figurine that’s attached to the lampstand.

  Charlotte tried not to make it too obvious that she was looking, but she caught his eyes and couldn’t pretend to have missed him. She held up her hand to wave.

  ‘Hell, that’s one of Bruce’s pals from the kitchens.’

  ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘Not well, but he knows me and Bruce are supposed to be an item. He’s not coming over to talk. But I’m going to have to speak to Bruce tonight. I can’t put it off in case he mentions he spotted me with you. I’d forgotten all about him too, I was enjoying myself.’

  Charlotte could feel her stomach knotting again. It was unusual for it not to feel like that lately. She was dreading the confrontation, certain that Bruce would not let it slip without some challenge.

  ‘Look, forget about Bruce, Will began, ‘we can deal with him later. Let’s finish the afternoon in the amusement park, it’ll be fun.’

  Charlotte and Will stood at the entrance gate which was styled as a Wild West Fort. She listened to the screams of fear and joy as youngsters and their parents enjoyed the log flume, big dipper, mouse ride and spinning top.

  ‘I’ve never been anywhere like this!’ Charlotte exclaimed, brimming with enthusiasm for the thrills ahead. ‘Where I live, you’re lucky if the travelling fair comes with dodgems.’

  She rushed ahead, eager to secure their passes and try out some of the rides.

  It was on the ghost train that they first kissed. It had been hanging in the air all afternoon. But the moment one of the ride attendants stepped out of the darkness of the ride, a ghostly mask on his face and his hand touching Charlotte’s shoulder, she screamed with shock and it felt like the most natural thing on earth to put her arms around Will’s neck.

  As their wagon twisted and turned along the tracks, the roar of zombies and the laughs of vampires punctuating their journey, Will turned to meet her as she moved in close and their lips touched for the first time. By the time the kiss was over, as they burst out of the final wooden doors back out into the sunlight, Charlotte was crying.

  ‘I’m not that bad a kisser, am I?’ Will smiled.

  ‘I can’t believe how foolish I was to get caught up with Bruce,’ Charlotte sniffed. ‘I’m just so cross with myself for getting in a fix like this. I’m so stupid!’

  Will took the teddy bear toy from Charlotte’s hand as he helped her out of the wagon, which was inching slowly towards two very excited youngsters who couldn't wait to begin their ride.

  ‘It’ll be over soon,’ Will tried to reassure her. ‘One day you’ll look back at this and laugh. It won’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things.’

  They moved over to one of the wooden benches scattered throughout the amusement park. Charlotte did her best to stop crying, but she felt frustrated with herself for showing such poor judgement and going against her better instincts, dismissing Bruce as a brief summer fling, a man she could brush off when she felt like it. She’d never done anything like that before and she would never be doing anything like it again. With men like Will, she knew she was in safe hands.

  The day drew on and the evening was announced by a chill in the air and the slow disappearance of the sunshine. After another round of bingo in the warmth of the arcades, Will suggested finding a place to eat and to have a drink, so that they were close to where the last bus would leave. They found a restaurant called The Old Galleon which served good, basic food and they were soon tucking into a plate of scampi and chips, washed down by a couple of ice-cold drinks.

  As they sat there eating and chatting, Charlotte was so comfortable in Will’s company that it felt like they’d been doing this forever. They hadn’t kissed again since the ghost train. It had sent a thrilling spark through the whole of her body, but she wanted to finish with Bruce first. However much she needed to break free from him, it was only fair to bring the relationship to an end first. She was old fashioned enough for that to matter.

  Occasionally they would bump gently into each other or their hands would touch. Charlotte could tell that Will wanted this as much as she did. But he was content to wait, knowing that Charlotte had to walk out of Bruce’s oppressive shadow first.

  The last bus was on time, with barely any passengers. They had to make a request stop from the village at Overton to the holiday camp just beyond Middleton. The bus driver was graceless about receiving the news. He’d thought the last stop would be at Overton, and now he found himself with a twenty-minute loop to make along the narrow, country road.

  Charlotte and Will kept out of his way, sitting on the top deck again. It was dark
now; there was very little to look at as the streetlights petered out beyond the outskirts of Morecambe.

  ‘What’s the plan then?’ Will asked. ‘Will you tell him tonight? You should.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll need to catch him on his bar break. In fact, he’ll be taking it at half-past ten. I’ll head straight up there when we get back. There’s no time like the present.’

  ‘I’ll come with you; it’ll be alright. It’ll be over within the hour. You can do this, Charlotte.’

  The bus drew up outside of the camp and dropped them at a different bus stop to the one they’d been picked up at, just beyond the holiday camp gates. They thanked the driver, but all he could muster was a begrudging grunt.

  ‘Ready?’ Will asked.

  Charlotte nodded.

  They walked toward the porter’s lodge. The lighting within the boundaries of the holiday camp was good, better than the municipal bus stop where there was only a dim lamp inside the inadequate shelter. As they strolled through the gate, they saw a figure standing to the side of the first lamp post. It was a thickset man; he was smoking. He turned to look at them as he heard their footsteps.

  Charlotte knew who it was immediately. If Bruce was waiting for them during his evening break from the bar, his pal from the kitchens must have headed back to the camp on the afternoon holidaymakers’ bus to tell him Charlotte had been spotted with another man in Morecambe. Bruce would know who it was.

  They’d been caught unawares. It was an ambush, the last thing they were expecting.

  Bruce rushed at them with some momentum.

  ‘You bloody slag!’ he shouted at Charlotte, forming his hand into a fist and punching Will in the face. Will dropped to the floor. Not only had he never experienced violence like this before, but he was also no match for Bruce’s hostility.

  ‘Leave him alone!’ Charlotte shouted, letting the teddy bear fall to the floor.

  Bruce flew at her, pushing her to the ground with such force that it left her stunned for a few moments.

  ‘This relationship ends when I say it does!’ he seethed at her, as she held out both hands to shield herself from any further assault.

  ‘And if this dickhead comes anywhere near you, I’ll…’

  ‘You’ll do what?’ came a voice from the darkness.

  Bruce looked up to see who it was. It was one of the security guards from the holiday camp, returning from his rounds of the site.

  The man was slighter than Bruce and dressed in black trousers and a well-pressed blue shirt with lapels showing the corporate branding of the holiday camp.

  Bruce looked him up and down, as if assessing whether this man was a match for him.

  ‘I’m going to kick this little prick’s head in,’ Bruce began.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Present Day - Morecambe

  Will cursed Lucia as he jogged along the path in the direction of the school. Of all the times to go AWOL. He’d considered calling a taxi, but by the time it finally arrived, he’d have got there already. Uber hadn’t made it to resorts like Morecambe yet.

  The temperature was beginning to drop and a white mist was starting to form where his breath emerged into the cold, night-time air. He picked up his pace but was getting a stitch. He was out of shape; if he didn’t do something about it soon, it would get ahead of him and he’d sink into old age far too easily.

  Will knew where the school was, because they’d visited on an open day prior to making the move. He couldn’t recall the White Swan pub being nearby though.

  After twenty minutes, cold and more out of breath than he’d like to admit, Will found the car, parked exactly as Charlotte had described it. He stopped a moment, to think through their conversation. She knew what he’d done now. He’d held onto that secret for all those years and they’d both stayed silent about it, fearful about what the other might say or do. There had been no fuss about Bruce, he wasn’t missed, he wasn’t reported missing. Like Charlotte, Will just assumed that he was mistaken about how badly he’d hurt his attacker.

  He’d been so relieved the next day to find out he hadn’t killed Bruce. Even better, Bruce had thrown in the towel, handed in his notice and left. Will had spent the night imagining what jail would be like for a man like him. Full of men like Bruce, no doubt.

  Charlotte and he had much more talking to do. He knew it had to come, that night probably, as long as they found Lucia. Where was she?

  The car was still wedged into the parking spot, but no longer by a white van. A red 4-wheel drive had packed itself into the tiny slot, its huge bumper only millimetres away from the boot of their car. Will looked through the windscreen for clues. There was no parking permit on display, suggesting it wasn’t one of the local householders. Will looked around and saw there was a one-hour waiting time restriction. Charlotte was lucky she hadn’t been spotted by a warden; she should have got a ticket for parking there so long.

  The sound of laughter and lively conversation could be heard in the pub. That’s probably where the driver was. He needed the car - a search for Lucia would be pointless on foot.

  Will took out his phone and sent a Facebook message to Charlotte.

  The car is still blocked in. Going to see if anybody in the pub owns it. Don’t call the police just yet. Give me half an hour to look for her first.

  He lurked in the doorway as he waited for Charlotte’s reply, the three dots hanging in the message window for a long time. When it came, it was brief.

  Okay. We need to discuss something when you get back.

  That was the understatement of the year. Will headed for the lounge area, experience telling him it was generally a bit more welcoming on that side of a pub. He walked up to the bar.

  ‘Good evening fella,’ the barman greeted him. ‘What can I get you?’

  ‘I’m trying to find the driver of a red 4x4 that’s parked outside. It’s blocking me in.’

  ‘That’ll be Tony. He’s running the pub quiz in the public bar. He’ll be finished in ten minutes. Alright if I interrupt him then?’

  Will was tempted to say no, but when he heard raucous, predominately male laughter from the other side of the bar, he decided against it. It was ten minutes; he could wait.

  ‘I’ll have a half pint while I’m waiting,’ he replied. ‘Can you just let him know when you can get his attention without messing up their game?’

  ‘Will do, fella,’ the barman replied.

  Will took his beer, found a table by the open fire and took a long sup. It tasted good; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a pub. It was a nice pub too, with traditional wooden beams and a newly refurbished lounge. Bar meals were served every night and they appeared to have a full programme of entertainment.

  Will read down the chalkboard, impressed by how hard the pub was working to stay relevant - and open.

  He could see that Quiz Night was that week’s main attraction. There was a hypnotist in the night after and a female vocalist on the Friday. Will did a double-take at the name.

  Abi Smithson, Morecambe’s Vocal Sensation

  Surely not?

  Will stood up and walked over to the bar.

  ‘Five more minutes fella,’ the barman said, seemingly annoyed that Will had come over to ask again.

  ‘No, it’s not to do with the car,’ Will reassured him. ‘That singer you have here on a Friday night. Abi Smithson. How old would you say she is?’

  The barman relaxed, no longer thinking he was going to have to deal with a pushy customer.

  ‘Oh, Abi’s been singing around these parts for years. We’re lucky to have got her on a Friday - she’s rushed off her feet at weekends. She’s a big star in this part of the world. She was on Opportunity Knocks several years ago. Not the good one, with Hughie Green. The rip-off version with Bob Monkhouse. She got beaten by an acrobatic monkey. Can you believe that?’

  ‘Would you say she’s around fifty years old, with very striking grey eyes?’

  ‘Sounds like her,’ th
e barman replied. ‘Why, do you know her?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Will replied. ‘Maybe.’

  He returned to his table and activated his phone. The pub had free Wi-Fi, so rather than burn up his data, he connected to it. As his finger moved to locate the Wi-Fi settings, he spotted the security app that he’d placed on the family’s phones to try and prevent them from getting any viruses or malware. He opened it up, on a hunch.

  He was right. The software package had a tracker on it. In theory, he could see where connected phones were located. He’d forgotten all about it. He’d only used it once, ages ago, when Charlotte thought she’d lost her phone in Bristol. It turned out she’d just left it on the windowsill in the downstairs toilet.

  Will navigated to the tracker menu and opened it up. There was a list of the family’s devices. Olli was on his laptop and his phone. Charlotte’s phone was active too, he could see the icon on the map placing them on the sea front. His own icon placed him further along the promenade, towards the end, directly in the pub. If Charlotte was looking right now she’d want to know why he was sitting in a pub when he should have been searching for his daughter.

  Lucia’s phone was offline, but it showed that she’d been in the town centre only ten minutes previously.

  He stood up, abandoned his drink and headed back to the bar.

  ‘They’re into a tie-breaker,’ the barman said, pre-empting what Will was about to ask him. ‘Probably another ten minutes.’

  ‘It can’t wait until then,’ Will said, pushing now. ‘I need to move my car. I’m trying to find my daughter…’

  The barman wasn’t keen on interrupting Tony, who sounded like he was in full quiz master flow on the other side of the bar.