Callum shakes his head. ‘I don’t expect you to understand.’
‘Well, then, try to explain it to me.’
I hear Callum sigh, and when he speaks I can tell he’s making an effort not to growl at me. ‘My dad walked those hills, Anya. My brother and my daughter love running on the fells. I know how I’d feel if they got stuck or had an accident, so I empathise with worried relatives. Of course, when there’s a reason to be home, I’ll be there. But . . .’
He stops short. I have tried to take in everything he’s said, but I’m afraid that I can hear something else unspoken: I am not enough reason for him to stay home.
We say nothing more on the way back to Ambleside. When we reach the school, Callum drives up the hill and stops beside my car, leaving the engine running. I take my cue and get out, and then a surge of anger makes me slam the door. I watch him reverse and the tail-lights disappear, leaving me in darkness.
The stars are shining tonight, sprinkled across the sky like fairy dust, with not a cloud around to blot them out. The sight usually rallies my spirits, but peace seems a million miles away. I turn my back on the universe and get into my car.
As I twist the key in the ignition I’m already thinking about having a hot bath when I get home. I need to wipe away the traces of this day, to stop them clinging to my skin. I want to sit somewhere quietly and let everything settle around me.
I’m waiting to hear the engine spring to life. But nothing happens. Of course. The bloody battery is dead.
I sag into my seat, staring through the windscreen towards the darkened school as I run through my options. Just ahead of me, the car park is empty. It’s gone half past six – everyone who might help has already left.
I consider calling Callum, but I’m still as mad as hell with him. He’ll probably think it’s some kind of ruse to stop him going on his bloody rescue mission. I can think of nothing more galling than to have to play damsel in distress right now. Instead, I hunt through the glove compartment for the RAC number. When I call them they say they will be here in half an hour.
It’s not that long, I tell myself.
Just call Callum, I tell myself.
I text Georgia and Zac. The car won’t start. Stuck at school. Have called RAC. Then I put my phone in my pocket, and prepare to wait.
20
CALLUM
As Callum heads away from Anya, guilt digs deep under his skin. He had silenced her with his reasoning for attending the rescue, by intimating that she was the selfish one, yet he knows he would have chosen differently tonight if he hadn’t needed to find and pacify Danielle.
She hasn’t responded to any of his calls and texts. All day it has driven him crazy. Even the act of getting in touch with her is like repeatedly begging for forgiveness. Each time she ignores him he feels more culpable.
He cannot get her words out of his head. ‘This isn’t over yet, Callum, whatever you think.’ Was it really as much of a threat as it had sounded?
His thoughts oscillate between Danielle and the unknown woman who had prowled the hospital corridors last night. Both scared him. He replays the CCTV footage in his mind: the way her hand had lingered on the wall as she peered in through the semi-closed blinds. What had she been watching for? Could there be an innocent explanation, or was this the person who had run down their children? If it were, she looks barely older than a child herself. Callum wouldn’t have put her any later than mid-twenties.
If this woman had just put a young girl in hospital, shouldn’t she have been displaying a little more distress? But perhaps she had – the images had been too grainy and dark to see detail.
Five minutes later, as he walks into the briefing room, Les Pickering looks across at him, raising his eyebrows in query. Callum understands the question, but although he’s the team leader he is happy to stay in the background for now. Since Les’s knee replacement he has become a regular fixture in the control room; they make a good team. Callum reminds himself that Les didn’t see anything amiss in the equipment room last night, but it doesn’t make it any easier to look him in the eye.
Callum scans the dozen or so people present, searching for long, light brown shiny hair tied in a ponytail. He can’t see her anywhere. He tries to tune in to what Les is saying. Ivy and Larry Semple, a couple in their sixties, haven’t returned to their B&B. They are both fit and had planned to spend the day on the Fairfield Horseshoe. Larry Semple had logged their proposed route with the guesthouse, but he hadn’t left a mobile number. No one has heard from them since this morning, and there are no reports coming in from walkers having spotted anyone in trouble.