0 Nov
445
Todd Weenink was getting impatient at the turn of the conversation. He kicked at the wall and watched as more filling spilled out from between the stones.
Diane Fry could see Maggie Crew from a distance, her yellow jacket marking her out like a beacon. She was standing a little way from the tower, on the edge of the escarpment where the gritstone plateau fell away into the valley. Maggie was a few yards short of the contorted rock formations that Ben Cooper called the Cat Stones. She was standing quite still, as if afraid to go any closer. Beyond the rocks was the Hammond Tower, which ought to have represented the hand of humanity on the landscape of the moor, but failed to suggest any hint of civilization to Fry’s eye.
The wind coming down the valley was cold, carrying the first suggestion of November storms. But Maggie made no attempt to shelter behind the rocks. She seemed happy to expose herself to the full blast of the weather.
She didn’t look round when Fry limped up behind her. But Fry felt as if Maggie had been waiting for her to arrive.
‘Maggie, come on. It’s time to go back home.’ ‘Give me a few minutes, then I’ll go.’
‘All right. I’ll stay with you, then.’ ‘If you like.’
Maggie didn’t move for a moment. She hesitated as if she wasn’t sure which way to go. Fry had automatically walked up to her left side, understanding Maggie’s vulnerability. Now she watched Maggie’s face, looking for
446
clues about her thoughts in the set of her mouth and squint of her eye.
‘I want to remember more,’ said Maggie. ‘I know that’s what you need from me, Diane. I want to be able to tell you that I remember.’
‘Maggie, it doesn’t matter. We can do it another way.’
‘You said you didn’t have enough information. Insufficient evidence. You needed me to make an identification.’
‘There are other leads we can follow.’
Maggie shook her head. ‘No. You’re lying to me now.,
As if on a signal, they walked in step towards the Cat Stones. Maggie’s footsteps became slower as they reached them. Imperceptibly, she seemed to have moved nearer to Fry, until their elbows were touching, making contact for mutual reassurance.
‘I would have brought you here, Maggie,’ said Fry. ‘You don’t understand. I wanted to do it on my own.’ Fry nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose I can see that.’
‘Can you? You wanted me to share everything with you, all my memories. But there are things I can’t share.’ Her eyes went distant again. ‘Tell me,’ she said. They were the words that Fry feared to hear from her. ‘Tell me, why did you have an abortion?’
‘Because I didn’t want the baby,’ said Fry. ‘Obviously.’ They stopped by the Cat Stones. They were lumbering great rocks, precariously balanced on smaller, softer slabs of gritstone that had been worn away by the weather and shaped like the back-jointed rear legs of
447
an animal. The rocks crouched like leaping cats - or so local folklore said. Maybe they were leaping at the tower, determined to knock it from its perch.
‘But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?’ Maggie touched one of the stones gently, as if she hoped to make it move with the lightest brush of her fingers. ‘Was it rape?’ she said.
Yes.’ But you never talk about it, do you?’ ‘Of course not.’
‘Bottled up. Is that the best way?’
‘I don’t talk about it,’ said Fry firmly.
‘But it’s a denial,’ said Maggie. ‘A sort of lie that you’re living.’
They were in the right spot. This was the place they had identified as the location of the assault on Maggie Crew - the brief, horrific attack that had left her disfigured. They had found little forensic evidence, nothing that could have led them to the identity of an assailant. There were no witnesses except Maggie herself. And no trace of a motive.
‘You can’t live your life by lies; said Maggie.
Then Maggie Crew began to laugh. Fry was mortified that her confession should be treated with hilarity. Then she began to get angry.
‘What’s so funny?’
Maggie put her hand on Fry’s arm to support herself. Her laughter bounced off the Cat Stones and seemed to drift off down the valley towards Matlock.
‘It doesn’t matter, Diane,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
448
She looked to be about to start chuckling again. Fry pulled away abruptly.
‘You’re getting a bit hysterical. Let’s go down. It was a mistake to come up here.’
‘Perhaps it was,’ agreed Maggie.
‘You’re doing yourself no good.’ Fry shivered. ‘Besides, I’m getting cold.’
Maggie smiled and shook her head. ‘Diane, there are things I remember.’
‘That’s good, Maggie,’ said Fry automatically.
‘I remember him running. He was on me so suddenly, before I knew what was happening. I remember him breathing heavily, like a runner, or…’ Maggie hesitated. ‘I think he was frightened.’