DCI Chilton has been gone for about twenty minutes now. I watched from my hospital window as he left the building and crossed over to the car park. It’s only a momentary respite. He’s going to send someone over later today to take an official statement from me. I’ve been asked not to leave the area, in case he needs to ask me any more questions. I can read between the lines. I’m the chief suspect and he is biding his time while he gathers more evidence.
I’ve asked Seb to buy me a cheap pay-as-you-go mobile phone. My own one has been found at the croft and is currently being analysed. Chilton tells me it’s standard procedure and the other phones are also being looked at. I’ve not been singled out, apparently.
From behind me, I hear the door to my room open. I turn, expecting it to be the mid-morning cup of tea, so am surprised when a big bouquet of flowers appears large enough to obscure the gift-bearer’s face. My first thought is Seb and my spirits lift a little, but as I take in the jeans and the men’s trainers, I realise I don’t recognise either.
‘Hello, Carys,’ comes the voice. He lowers the bunch of flowers and smiles. ‘Surprise.’
‘Tris!’ I want to leap from my chair but the drip in my arm prevents me from doing so.
He walks over and, without a moment’s hesitation, drops a kiss on my cheek. If he notices me recoil from his contact, he makes no reference to it. ‘Good to see you,’ he says, with such ease I have to remind myself of the events of the past weekend. ‘How are you feeling?’ he continues, as he goes over to the sink and pops the plug in, before filling it with water and resting the flowers there.
‘What are you doing here?’ I say, finally finding my voice.
‘I need to talk to you.’ He takes the seat that Chilton occupied less than an hour ago.
‘I don’t want to talk to you. Go away. Now.’
Tris remains seated. ‘I know you think I had something to do with Joanne’s death, but I promise you, I didn’t.’
‘Why should I believe you?’ I retort, glancing over to the door, wishing Seb would walk through it right now.
‘Because you know me better than that.’
‘Do I?’
‘Of course you do.’
‘Then why did you want to kill me?’
He gives an incredulous laugh. ‘What the fuck? Kill you? Jesus, Carys, where did you get that idea?’
‘You chased me. Through the fucking forest, Tris. You tried to hunt me down like some animal. Then you threatened me, saying if I didn’t come back, something would happen to Alfie.’
‘Have a word with yourself,’ says Tris; the incredulous look remains. ‘I was chasing you because I was worried about you. I could tell you had lost it, got all paranoid. Running off into the forest like that, I was worried something would happen to you. That’s why I was chasing you.’
‘No. No, that’s not true,’ I say, replaying the events in my mind. He had definitely chased me and it wasn’t for my own well-being. Was it?
‘Carys, think about it. When did I threaten you? What did I say?’
‘You had the walkie-talkie, you pretended to be the park ranger and said you were going to help us.’
‘Yeah, I did, but only because Joanne told me to.’
‘Then why answer me that final time, when you came out into the garden?’
Tris pulls a pained expression. ‘Sorry about that. Bad taste. I don’t think I was thinking straight.’ He runs a hand through his hair. ‘You do know it was all Joanne’s idea, me pretending to be the park ranger? But I swear to you, I didn’t know what had happened the first time you called. I genuinely thought it was part of the game. Joanne told me to go along with whatever was said. I was doing as she asked. Or so I thought.’
‘What?’ I shake my head. Tris is throwing doubt on my thoughts. ‘But you were going to harm Alfie.’
‘When? I promise you, Carys, I would never harm that lad. God, he’s been through enough already. You know how much I think of him. I was only letting you know he was there.’
‘You’re lying!’
‘I am not! Think about it, Carys, when did I ever say I was going to harm Alfie?’
I dredge up the conversation we had over the walkie-talkie. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment Tris threatened Alfie. Why is that? I plough deeper into my mind but come up with nothing. I cannot remember Tris making the threat, not in so many words. The little ball of doubt is growing in momentum, increasing in size as I try to locate the point of threat but fail. ‘You said something, I can’t remember. You’re confusing me.’
‘You can’t remember because there’s nothing to remember,’ says Tris, with a calm sincerity that only serves to increase my anxiety. I am sure he can see the despair and uncertainty in my eyes. He raises his eyebrows in question. ‘I didn’t threaten you, did I?’
‘You’re messing with my head,’ I say, frustration coating every word. I sit taller in my seat. ‘Get out of here. You need to leave. If you don’t, I’ll call the nurse.’
‘Don’t get yourself stressed,’ says Tris. ‘It’s not good for you.’
‘I mean it,’ I say, ignoring his supposed concern. I reach for the call buttons on the table next to me but Tris is quicker and moves the table out of my reach. ‘What do you want?’ I say, searching his face for any clues.
‘I want to make sure you’re OK. You suffered a nasty shock at the weekend, and a nasty bang to your head too, so I’m concerned about you.’ There’s a lack of sincerity to his words.
‘Bullshit,’ I snap.
‘You need to stay calm. Don’t get yourself worked up … again.’
‘What do you mean, again?’
‘Like you did when you saw me at the croft. I know what you’ve been through and … the destabilising effect it can have.’ Tris presses his lips together and tips his head to one side in what is supposed to represent a sympathetic gesture. ‘Seeing a friend dead like that can mess with your mind. Especially when you’ve a history of mental health problems.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh yes you do. When Darren hanged himself, you weren’t too good then. I recall Joanne, God rest her soul’ – he makes the sign of the cross – ‘telling me how you were on antidepressants afterwards.’
‘That’s none of your business,’ I hiss, trying to hide the hurt I feel, knowing Joanne had betrayed my confidence. I hadn’t told anyone else, not even Andrea, that I was on antidepressants. Joanne only found out by accident. The tablets had fallen out of my bag one day and she had spotted them. She had quizzed me about them and I had felt compelled to tell her. At the time, it had been a relief, but now I wish I hadn’t been so trusting. It was naïve of me.
I had been embarrassed about having to take them. It made me feel weak and ashamed; and then there were side effects, which left all my senses dulled, until lethargy and general tiredness became my new norm. Decision-making was hard work. All these factors had convinced me I was better off without the medication. Coming off had been difficult, but I had stumbled across a site on the internet where I could buy beta-blockers. It was anonymous. I didn’t feel judged and there was no need for regular GP appointments where they asked too many questions. My online source had allowed me to battle on alone. The same way I have battled on alone with Alfie. And the same way I battle on with my life every day.
‘Seeing Joanne dead was hard, but don’t think for one moment it’s broken me,’ I tell Tris. ‘I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. It will be my word against yours.’
‘Well, not quite,’ he says. ‘Haven’t you forgotten someone? Zoe?’
I look warily at him. ‘She’s my friend. She’ll stick up for me.’
‘Oh, come off it, Carys. Don’t play dumb. Zoe has already told the police how upset and irrational you were all weekend.’
‘But I wasn’t,’ I counter. ‘In fact, I was the one making all the decisions.’
‘So you say.’
‘Fuck off! Get the hell out of here. I don’t have to put up with this crap from you.’
Tris stands and walks over to the window, his hands clasped behind his head. ‘This whole thing sucks,’ he says. ‘If only Zoe had stayed in Hammerton and never bloody moved to Chichester, none of us would be in this mess.’
I watch him pick up the call buttons and press the blue circle with the silhouette of a nurse in the centre but my mind is reeling from what he has just said. ‘Hammerton? Zoe lived in Hammerton?’ I ask.
Tris looks up at me. ‘Yeah, Hammerton. Why?’
I don’t answer, I’m too busy joining up dots, making connections I hadn’t been aware of before. Small, seemingly innocent and independent details start slotting into place. How did this happen? How did I miss this?
The door to the room whooshes open and a nurse swiftly enters. ‘Everything all right?’
The ability to speak abandons me as my brain is overloaded with a maelstrom of thoughts and images of a place I believed I no longer had any connection with.
‘Carys is getting upset,’ Tris says, turning to face the nurse.
She looks over at me. ‘Oh, you do look very pale, Carys. Let me check your blood pressure. When did you start feeling unwell?’
Tris puts the call buttons down on the chair. ‘I was just going. Carys was with my wife when she died,’ he explains, bowing his head. ‘I think my being here has unsettled her. I merely wanted to make sure she was OK. It’s very difficult for all of us.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ says the nurse; she rests a hand on Tris’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, you head off. If you need a cup of tea before you go, the kitchen is down the corridor. I’ll stay with Carys.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’
‘Get out of here!’ I shout, suddenly finding my voice.
‘Carys, please,’ says the nurse, coming around to the other side of the chair, the blood-pressure sleeve and pump in her hand. ‘Now, roll your sleeve up. That’s it. Do you want some water?’
As the nurse fusses over me, Tris turns to leave the room. Pausing at the door, he gives me one final look. One that I can’t read. I look away first.
I lean back in the chair and let the nurse carry out her observations as I once again go over everything in my mind.
First of all, there’s the little nugget of information that Zoe used to live in Hammerton. Why has this never come up in conversation before? I try to remember if I’ve ever mentioned where Darren used to work. Quite possibly I have, so it seems very strange that Zoe hasn’t said anything.
To be fair, I have bigger things on my mind. Like Tris and the impression of me he’s trying to give to everyone. That I’m unstable and my problems with Joanne were too much for me to cope with. He’s so sincere, I’m almost beginning to buy into it and start doubting myself.