Helena and James were looking at Maps to find out exactly where the address Jago had given James actually was.
‘The trouble is,’ said James, ‘postcodes in these remote areas are enormous so they don’t help much.’
‘I don’t know the Wye Valley at all,’ said Helena.
‘It’s very beautiful, I know that.’
‘But if he didn’t do anything wrong – I’m assuming he didn’t do anything wrong—?’ Helena broke off, hoping James didn’t feel trapped into saying what she wanted to hear.
‘Look, I’ve said, it’s not my tale to tell. I’m the only person he’s stayed friends with from those days. We knew each other at school. Let’s just say I’m not surprised he wanted to cut himself off from everyone else.’
‘And you didn’t want to cut yourself off from him?’
‘Nope. He’s a good guy.’
A modicum of relief relaxed Helena’s shoulders a little. ‘Well, that’s something, at least.’
‘He’d probably kill me if he knew I’d said that,’ said James, frowning as he studied Maps on Amy’s computer.
‘Why? Why would he mind you saying he was a good guy?’
‘Because he doesn’t feel like a good guy.’ James took his fingers off the keys. ‘Helena? I need a proper map. Satnav and all that are OK as far as they go, but they don’t give you a chance to plan or see where you’re headed.’
‘My mother would have one.’
‘Could you borrow it?’
‘I’m sure I can.’
‘Would she ask why you wanted it? Where you’re going?’
Helena nodded. ‘I hadn’t planned to tell her until it was all over. She’s a bit of a worrier. But I will have to tell her if I need a mapbook.’
‘You might be away for a few days, too.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Helena. ‘But I suppose that’s true.’
‘If you started really early tomorrow morning, didn’t get lost and you and Jago had your conversation really quickly, you could get back in a day, but honestly? I think you guys need time to talk this through properly.’
Helena nodded. ‘I’ll have to tell Mum, then.’ She looked at James. ‘Do you know why he rushed off so suddenly? Was it his past coming back to haunt him, as they say?’
‘I really can’t say. I promised I wouldn’t.’
Helena sighed. ‘OK. I’ll see if my mother is around.’
Helena called her mother and discovered she was out but able to answer her mobile.
‘Darling!’ said Gilly, sounding happy. ‘Why don’t I come and see you? I’d love to see where you and Jago live!’
‘Oh, Mum, I need to borrow something. And tell you something. When will you be home?’ Helena wanted to cry all over again and hoped she’d get through the process of putting her mother in the picture without actually sobbing.
‘Oh. OK. Well, I’ll be back in an hour. Everything all right?’
‘Not really, but I’ll explain when I see you. Now I must call Amy; she left her laptop here this morning and she’ll probably need it.’
Having brushed off her mother with a kind of lie that happened to be true, Helena did call Amy.
‘So I’m going round to Mum’s in a minute to borrow her mapbook and then tomorrow, bright and early, I’m going on a road trip.’
‘It sounds fun in a way. I mean, finding your way to a hidden location and reuniting yourself with your lover.’
‘If that’s what it was I’d agree with you. It’s a mission, anyway.’
‘Although it’s Wales, the Wye Valley, so not miles and miles away.’
‘Actually, that’s what I thought but James put it into my head that it might not be easy to find. Hence the physical map, so I can see all the little tiny roads. I’m not going until tomorrow, anyway.’
‘And you’ll be OK on your own?’
‘Of course!’ Helena sounded brighter than she felt.
Gilly put a meringue on Helena’s plate. ‘You can tell I bought these. I just felt I wanted you to eat something.’
‘Did you buy them before or after I called you, Mum?’ asked Helena, recognising her mother’s compulsion to feed her family if she was worried about them.
‘Not the point. Just have a bit of sugar – I know! It’s poison! – a sip of tea, and then tell me everything you think I need to know.’
‘You’ll have guessed it’s about Jago.’ She sighed.
Her mother nodded and broke off a bit of her own meringue with her fork.
‘And my wretched super-recogniser thing comes into it.’
Gilly looked up, anxiety making her frown. ‘Did you see him on a rerun of Crimewatch?’
Helena found herself laughing, not sure if her mother had been deliberately funny or was just being naïve. ‘I wish! No, I found him on Facebook.’
‘And that’s bad?’
‘Yes – when he’s got a completely different name! He’s not who he says he is, Mum. He’s a different person with a different name.’
‘People are allowed to change their names if they want to,’ said Gilly.
‘Yes, and he had good reason, but I feel like he’s lied to me!’ She had been going to give Gilly a carefully edited version of what she’d discovered but found herself wanting to tell her mother everything. ‘His real name is Jonathan Relto and his uncle owned the company that was responsible for all those people nearly dying in that fire. Do you remember? All those firefighters got awards for bravery, rescuing them. Let me show you.’
Soon they were both peering at the screen of Gilly’s computer. ‘It does look bad, I know,’ said Gilly, ‘but my instinct tells me he’s a good man.’
‘You thought he was gay!’
‘I rest my case,’ said Gilly primly and then laughed. ‘I know it must be a horrible shock for you and you’re quite right to try to find out the facts as soon as you can, but I’m putting my money on Jago being one of the good guys.’
‘Oh God, I hope you’re right, Mum!’
Helena didn’t go back to Jago’s house that night. She stayed with her mother and allowed herself to be mothered. Comfort food, wine, a bath, girly telly. It didn’t cure her from doubt and a sense of being enormously let down, but it did cushion her from it a little.
And in the morning, although she should have gone to her own home to pack a case, she preferred to manage with some clothes she’d left at Fairacres for years and things she could borrow from her mother. This included a slightly moth-eaten cashmere cardigan, a long cotton nightie (which she’d borrowed the night before) and a few pairs of her mother’s knickers (which was a bit weird). Gilly had provided a new toothbrush and a small pot of moisturiser along with a new mascara and a stub of a kohl pencil. It was pouring with rain.
‘Well, the saying is, rain before seven, fine before eleven,’ said Gilly as she and Helena looked at the rain-drenched sky.
‘It’s half past seven, Mum, and I do hope to get there before eleven.’
‘I meant it will be nice when you get there.’
Gilly sounded feeble, and Helena knew she was struggling to be optimistic.
‘It’ll be fine,’ said Helena and made a dash for the car.
Her raincoat held over her head, Gilly followed her, apparently trying to disguise her reluctance to let her daughter drive off into the storm to an unknown destination. Helena knew exactly how she felt.
‘I’ll be OK, Mum,’ she said, when she was sitting in her car, Google Maps on her phone, the map open on the seat beside her and a list of places to aim for on the dashboard. She also had a packet of sandwiches and a tin of shortbread.
‘I know you will,’ said Gilly, sounding very confident but not fooling her daughter. ‘And I know it might be difficult to keep in touch, but if you can, do. You’ve got your phone charger?’
‘Yes. It’s plugged in right now. Google Maps eats battery.’
‘Off you go then!’ Gilly stepped back from the car and started to wave.
The weather was completely in tune with Helena’s mood. It was dreary, persistently grey and visibility was affected. She didn’t really know what she was going to find when she reached Jago – if indeed she did reach him. Would he be pleased to see her? Probably not or he’d have asked her to go with him. Still, she had to find out his side of the story. If he was as bad as the internet made him out to be she had a fallback position – she would go to the little cottage she and Amy always rented for World of Wool and hope it was available. It was midweek and in a less touristy part of Wales, so she was in with a chance. Then she’d have to start putting her life back together.
She switched on the radio for any traffic news and for cheering music and discovered that the Severn Bridge was closed. This didn’t make it impossible to get where she was aiming, but it did make it more complicated. She pulled in and had a good look at the mapbook and Google Maps. The bridge being closed would make her journey a bit longer. Then she sat off again.
The weather got worse as Helena drove, and while she was on the motorway the sound of the rain on the roof was deafening, relieved only by the brief spells spent driving under bridges. She slowed right down, wishing her fellow drivers would do the same.
Following the directions on her phone she turned off the motorway and started climbing into the Welsh hills. The rain seemed to come down harder and in places the road turned into shallow streams. Still her road led her upwards – which surely was a good thing?
Her phone lost signal at the same time as Helena came across a ‘Road Closed’ sign. As water was pouring down the road in question this didn’t seem unreasonable. She pulled into the side and got out the map again. She set off when she had found herself an alternative route, hoping her phone would pick up another signal.
When she had a second to glance at the scenery, she saw that it was very beautiful but the road was getting narrow, steep and winding. Cow parsley lined both sides and the verges seemed full of wild flowers. At another time she would have either stopped and walked a little to identify the flowers or driven slowly and just admired the beauty but today she was on a mission. Her optimism with regard to the success of that mission was waning, being washed away by the rain.
She thought she was nearly at her destination when she came across another sign. This one said ‘Road Ahead Closed’. It did not specify how far ahead and this was important because nearly at the end of the road there was a little turn-off which was the one she wanted. There was no water running down this road – or at least not an unreasonable amount. Should she risk having to turn back? Or search for another way now?
The map was not encouraging. She’d have to turn round and start again, more or less, and who knew how many more roads would be closed now? She decided to risk it and take the road that might close before she reached her turn-off.
The rain started to ease and eventually Helena realised it had stopped and that the sun was appearing through the clouds. Mist gathered about her, touched with gold.
Her hope that the road wouldn’t close before her turning increased as a car came towards her. But then it got narrower, becoming single track with passing places. She reckoned she had about half a mile to go before her turn-off when she went around a corner and found that the road was blocked.
She pulled her car off the road and got out. She stretched. Undid her plait, shook out her hair and considered her surroundings. It was blissfully quiet. The only things she could hear were birds singing and somewhere out of sight the sound of running water.
Just for a bit she allowed herself to rest and then she considered. She could turn round and go back – there was room – or she could abandon the car and walk.
She looked at her phone. No signal. So she got out the map and tried to work out roughly where she was in relation to her destination.
There was no quick solution, she just had to walk the next bit and hope it didn’t become impassable. What was really worrying her was getting away quickly if Jago didn’t want to see her. She didn’t fancy running; it would look desperate.
She put her water and sandwiches into her rucksack but left the rest of the food that Gilly had pressed on her. Then she put the map on top, just in case. She locked the car and set off up the road, past the barriers.
If she hadn’t been fretting about what her reception might be, or worried that she might get lost, she’d have enjoyed the walk. The world had a newly washed feel to it after all the rain and although it was muddy she was wearing sturdy trainers which were coping OK.
The scenery seemed to get lovelier with every step but the road got steeper and it seemed to take a long time before she reached the turn-off she was aiming for. She had bundled her hair on top of her head to keep it off her neck but there was still sweat running down her spine and the minimal amount of make-up she had put on that morning had long gone.
She had a drink and then set off again, acutely conscious of how far she’d have to walk back if she’d made a mistake – a mistake in her direction or a mistake in coming at all.
The road trailed through fields and small woods and the occasional cluster of farm buildings. It was lovely but it was long and Helena’s confidence wavered. Should she turn back now? She’d been going for nearly an hour. Say half an hour back to the car (it would be quicker going downhill), but it would still be at least two hours to get back to her mother’s house, probably three or four.
Then she heard a lark singing in one of the nearby fields. The sound of it soaring up and up and up filled her with hope. She would go on until she reached the address James had given her. She would face this dilemma head on.
She was seriously sweating, out of breath and tired when she finally looked up and saw a small cottage further up the lane. She knew it was the right one because it had Jago’s pickup parked outside it.
She was here; she had arrived. Now all she had to do was walk up to the front door and knock. But at that moment she would have preferred to walk over broken glass.
She decided to have a drink of water and then use a bit of it to wash her face. She went behind a tree, out of sight of the house, so she could prepare herself in private. When she was as clean as she could be given the small amount of water she had, she ate a sandwich. She chewed slowly to avoid indigestion, reluctant to admit to herself she was killing time, too scared to actually confront Jago now she was here.
She slid down so she was squatting, wishing the ground wasn’t so wet and she could sit, and rested under the tree for a while. Then her legs began to cramp and she straightened up again. She spent a few minutes shaking out her hair (very damp round her neckline) and retying the scarf holding it back.
She was just wondering what more she could do to use up time to put off the inevitable when she heard a voice.
‘Are you going to stay there all day or are you going to come in? I suggest you come in. It’s going to rain again.’
It was Jago.
