‘I can’t. Annie needs a lift home.’
‘I’m sure one of her friends’ parents can give her a lift. Please, Penny, go home. I’ll call you later if you want. We can talk.’
Penny nodded and looked up at him gratefully. ‘Okay. I’ll text Annie and I’ll go. And yes, I would like to talk later. Maybe we could meet for a drink?’
‘On a school night?’ Cam asked with a smile. ‘Very decadent.’
‘Only if it’s no trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ Cam reassured her. ‘Just go and I’ll give you a ring when I’m heading home.’
He left her to pack up her things, heading back downstairs to his office. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to suggest meeting later, but he was certain he’d follow through on his promise to call. Callous as it was to admit, he just wanted her off site so he didn’t have to deal with her at work. If he could talk to her somewhere away from school she might open up to him and allow him to help.
Cam had chosen the Drake’s Head because it was in a small village north of Keswick and out of Fellbeck’s catchment area. He hated going out to local pubs and restaurants where he might be served by sixth-form students or, even worse, the embarrassment of refusing to have a drink with them, so he tended to favour the villages further south and west for their anonymity. The Drake’s Head was one of his favourites as it still retained some old-fashioned Lakeland charm without being pretentiously rural. And the food was excellent.
He was surprised to find Penny waiting for him as he opened the main door to the pub and peered round the corner into the snug, as he hadn’t seen her car in the car park when he’d pulled up. She looked much more composed than when he’d last seen her. Her make-up was immaculate, her casual clothes looked expensive and suited her slim figure – the tight black jeans and baggy cotton shirt reminding him of teenage girls from the 1980s that he’d lusted after but been too young to pursue.
‘Been here long?’ he asked, pulling out the chair opposite where Penny was sitting.
‘Long enough to need another drink,’ Penny responded before he could sit down. ‘G and T, please.’
Cam smiled at her directness and crossed the tiny room to the hatch that served as the bar in this part of the pub. He ordered a half of real ale for himself and a double for Penny, assuming the absence of her car and the order of another drink meant that she wasn’t driving.
‘Taxi?’ he asked, settling the glasses on the table and plonking himself down on the uncomfortable wooden chair.
Penny grabbed her drink and took a long swig. ‘Yep. It might be a school night but I’m in the mood for a few more of these. I thought I might be able to persuade you to give me a lift home.’
‘No problem,’ Cam said. Penny smiled and nodded but showed no interest in furthering the conversation, choosing to stare at her drink. Cam was facing a mirror which reflected the scene behind him. The low beams and cream walls looked much like he imagined they would have in the 1950s – or even the 1850s – and the cliched horse brasses and hunting scenes spoke of simpler times.
‘You eating?’ he asked, picking up one of the menus which sat on the table between them. ‘I fancy pie and chips. Have you had their pies? They’re a bit special.’ He could hear himself rambling, desperately trying to make conversation to fill the silence. He’d hoped that he could get Penny to talk but she seemed lost in her own world.
‘Sounds good,’ Penny responded, but Cam would have sworn that she hadn’t heard what he’d said. ‘Look. I’m sorry about earlier. I really shouldn’t bring my problems to work – it’s unprofessional.’ She kept her eyes fixed on the glass and her hands were bending a cardboard drip mat backwards and forwards.
‘Are you in some kind of trouble?’ Cam asked. ‘You’re not yourself tonight.’
Penny raised her eyes to his, staring into him as though she were trying to work out whether or not it was safe for her to tell him the truth. She sighed and shook her head. ‘Not exactly. It’s just that a part of my life that I thought I’d left behind has caught up with me and I’m not sure what to do.’
‘If you tell me about it, I might be able to help.’
Penny shook her head again. ‘I don’t want to involve you, Cam. It’s not fair and besides…’ She lowered her eyes.
‘Besides what?’
‘I don’t want to do anything to mess up our relationship. I think this could be something special, but I know you’re vulnerable and I’m probably acting like the ice queen after Steve…’ She picked up her glass but put it down without drinking. ‘Cam. I need to tell you some things about my ex-husband. Things that I don’t like to admit to myself, but I think you should know before we take this relationship any further.’
Cam leaned closer, thoughts of his pie completely forgotten as he encouraged Penny to talk, to open up. ‘I’m listening. And you know that anything you tell me is in strictest confidence. Trust me, Penny. I want to help.’
It was worse than he’d expected. Somehow, physical abuse would have been easier for his mind to process but the horrors that Penny had endured at the hands of her ex were difficult to comprehend. Cam had never had the slightest urge to raise a hand to Chrissie and he’d always been repulsed by men who hurt women but this, this was in a different league from anything he’d heard from any of his colleagues or social services. It wasn’t that he was naïve: he knew that domestic abuse
