"Are you threatening her, Raffmir? Because if you are…"
Raffmir shook his head. "As always, Dogstar, you interpret my actions in their least favourable light, and quite unfairly, I might add. I have taken an oath that I will not harm your daughter and I intend to keep it. If you will only let me help you, I will see to it that you are reunited. How can I say fairer than that?"
"You could tell me what you're doing here."
"I did tell you. I'm trying to help you. There are things here that I am not at liberty to discuss, but I am not the only one who is holding things back."
"What does that mean?"
"Has Garvin told you how the negotiations are progressing?"
"In summary, yes."
"He's not mentioned any of the detail, then?"
"He doesn't normally discuss the inner workings of the High Court with me. I'm not his confidante."
"Even when those discussions concern you and yours?"
"What does that mean?"
"I am merely saying that while you are ostracised here in outer obscurity, negotiations are taking place that affect you and all the other mongrel fey. Did you never wonder why neither you nor any of the other half-breeds are part of those negotiations?"
"That's clever, Raffmir. Without directly saying anything you attempt to drive a wedge between me and the other Warders."
"Then why are you here?" He gestured through the rain-streaked window at the blurry harbour.
"I'm here because of you. Garvin's well aware that if I stayed at Court, you would create some sort of incident. It's just the sort of thing you would do."
"I am offended. Have I not sworn to see you unharmed?"
"Then call Deefnir off. He's out there somewhere, harassing Blackbird."
"Deefnir is not mine to command."
"How convenient."
"That still does not explain why you were sent all the way out here. If the purpose was to keep you away from me, we can both agree that it isn't working. Perhaps there is another reason."
"Garvin wouldn't lie to me."
"Neither would I. There would be no point. Can I suggest that the reason you are not in Court is because your very presence would prejudice the negotiations. With you there, it would be awkward to place certain options on the table."
"Suggestion and innuendo – it's your usual trade, isn't it Raffmir?"
"You are letting your prejudice blind you to the truth."
"And what truth would that be?"
"That if it is to the High Court's advantage, they will sacrifice you and all the other half-breeds without a moment's thought. You are pawns, and this is a game with very high stakes."
"That may be true, Raffmir, but we've had this conversation before. You're not offering any better, are you? Whatever the outcome for the half-breeds, it will always be better than anything you and your friends have to offer."
"You're assuming that loyalty works both ways, Niall."
"And you're assuming I'll follow your convoluted logic. I have sworn loyalty to the council and they have sworn not to harm me or mine. I trust them more than I trust you."
"Then your trust may be misplaced, for they will always choose the path that benefits them most, regardless of who stands upon it. It has ever been thus."
"That's irrelevant. I still don't trust you."
"And I have given you no reason to, a mistake that I will remedy. Come." He stood in one easy movement."
"I haven't finished my coffee."
"It is bitter and spoiled."
"I could say the same of you."
He sighed with exaggerated impatience. "Accompany me now and I will share with you a secret of the wraithkin, something that none of your Warder companions can do for you. I do this as a gesture of good faith against some future need, so that you may better care for you and yours. There, is that good enough, or will you sit and sulk for no other reason than that you are too cynical to do otherwise?"
I watched him, considering. He had carefully avoided mentioning anything I didn't already know, while attempting to undermine the relationships I already had. He was being evasive and deceitful. None of that was any surprise. Still, I would not find out what he wanted sitting in the cafe.
I rose and put on my coat, making a show of straightening it where Raffmir had leaned on it, then collected my umbrella. He ignored me and went to the counter to pay. I stood and watched him while Geraldine smiled and then laughed at some comment he made.
When he came back, I held the door open. The worst of the wind had died down, but it was still raining steadily.
"You two are getting on well. Will you be returning later?"
"Politeness costs nothing, Dogstar. You would be well advised to remember that." He stepped out into the rain and I followed him.
"Nah," I said. "She fancies you something rotten."
"I do not fraternise with her like."
"You're fraternising with me. It's just one big slippery slope, when you think about it."
"Do you make a habit of goading me?"
"Everyone should have a hobby."
We walked up the hill in silence. It was quite rewarding to realise that I could get under his skin. It was also an interesting development; after all, he didn't have to be here. It left me even more convinced that he wanted something from me. I had only to find out what it was.
He walked uphill into the layer of wet clouds shrouding the upper parts of the town, and navigated directly to the Way-point, stepping easily up on to the spongy grass and making no attempt to conceal our presence. As we climbed the grassy bank, the billowing mist blurred the houses below and then obscured them completely. It felt as if we were alone. A prickle of tension crept up the back of my neck. Had he brought me here so that we would not be seen? He had sworn not to do me harm, but if no one saw what had happened, who would accuse him?
"You know how to use the Ways?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Do you think you can follow where I lead?"
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere dry. You do not need to be concerned."
"I'm always concerned when you're involved."
"This is where you have to decide to trust me. Once I've gone, you'll need to follow quickly or you'll lose the trail. Try and keep up."
"Is this where I choose between, what is it… honour or love?"
"That comes later." He stepped on to the node and the mist swirled in around him. The vortex turned and collapsed and he was gone.
At that moment, part of me wanted to set off back down the hill and forget him. Part of me knew that whatever he wanted, it was in his interests, not mine. All of me knew that whatever it was, it would lead nowhere good. The vague insinuations about my daughter, the innuendo about Court politics; they were a smokescreen for something, but I couldn't help feeling that not knowing would only make it worse.
I stepped on to the node and felt the Way rise beneath me. The sense of a passage in the Way was there, a trail left by another traveller. Unlike Blackbird's warm trail this felt cold, but it was distinct. I let the Way pick me up and hurl me after him, sensing the warp of space as I swept through the emptiness, echoing his passing. The Way contracted around the next Way-node and then veered at the last second, bypassing the node and flinging us back into the black. We sped through a night-black veil streaked with hanging clouds of luminescent frost until we reached another node and slingshotted around that, not touching, but whipping tight around it, accelerating outwards and away. I found myself spinning, legs and arms outstretched, unable to orientate myself while my eyes watered without blinking, unable to focus. Space contracted and blurred and then shot me out, bouncing and rolling on to the hillside, my umbrella flying out of my hand. Instinct and training broke my fall, slowing me down until I could roll to a stop and rise to my knees.
Raffmir stood, watching me. "You have no style," he said.
"That," I said as I picked myself up from the grass and collected the umbrella, "was interesting. Where are we?"
"I promised you better weather, did I not?"
I looked around. We were on the rise of a high hilltop, with other hills arrayed around us and deep valleys in between. The overcast sky lent a sourceless light, but even so the shade deepened in the valleys. The grass was dry, and it was obvious it hadn't rained here today.
"Wales?" I asked.
"It's really not important. We are not here for sightseeing."
"Then why are we here?"
"You have not yet promised me that you will keep our conversation from Garvin."
"Nor will I. I have no reason to keep this from him."
"Your daughter's life is insufficient reason?"
"Your threat is not sufficient reason. You still haven't told me precisely what peril she is in and what you have to do with it. For all I know it could be you that's threatening her."
"I have sworn not to harm her. I can do no more."
"We've had this conversation. I will tell Garvin what I need to tell him."
"Very well, I see that in order for you to trust me, I must first trust you. It is good that one of us has some faith in his heart,"
"Oh, I have plenty of faith in other people."
He gave me a sour look, but then straightened his coat. "You already know the Ways, though I think you did not know them as well as you thought."
"It was an enlightening experience, I'll admit that much."
"Now I will show you something of the wraithkin, something your Warder brethren cannot show you."
"If it's card tricks, I've seen them before."
"You test my patience, Dogstar. You would scorn the magic you inherited. Your sarcasm reflects badly on you. You have respect for no one. It is no wonder my brothers and sisters will not harbour you."
"That's not the reason, and we both know it."
He stared at me. I did not look away. It was he who finally looked to the next hill across the valley. "See the copse atop the hill there."
"I see it."
"How long would it take you to get there?"
"Walking?"
"By whatever means."
"Half an hour or an hour on foot, maybe. Less in a car, assuming you can get a car up there." The only road in sight wound along the bottom of the valley, but there might be side roads up the hillside, hidden in the shadow of the hill. "If there's a Way-point it would be quicker."
"There is no Way-point nearby other than the one we arrived on. It is a closed end. That's why we are here. The only path from here is back where we came."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Learn, Dogstar. Watch and learn."
He stood, gazing across the valley. I sensed a creeping spread of power, enveloping and concealing, hiding us from view.
"I can do that myself," I commented.
A sudden chill fell on the hilltop, so sudden and distinct that it made me focus my attention on him. He was drawing in power, building a store of energy. The tips of my ears were suddenly cold and I wrapped my arms about me against the hard edge in the breeze.
Around Raffmir flickering fingers of light formed a nimbus. It built until he was outlined in white fire. He glanced sideways at me, grinned, and then stepped forward.
The light flashed and blinked out and it was a moment before I could see again. I was alone on the sunset hilltop.
I looked about me, searching for where he had hidden himself and then realised the point of the demonstration. Shielding my eyes, I searched the treeline opposite. Against the dark woodland, there was a darker patch in the distance. The figure raised an arm and waved slowly. Even from there, I could tell he was grinning back at me.
It was a grin that said, "I know something you don't."
After a moment, I began to see a glow around him. He made no attempt to hide it this time, and even from a distance I could see the white fire dancing across his shoulders. There was a bright flash, and he was walking back across the grass towards me.
"You will not allow it, but you are impressed."
"It's a fine trick."
"Do you always disparage that which you do not have? I find it tires me."
"It helps me keep things in perspective."
"I will give you free advice, cousin. If you stay that sour, the wind will change and you will stay that way. Learn to appreciate the things you are given and you will have a better time of it."
"Never look a gift horse in the mouth."
"Exactly so."
"And yet, gift horses do have a knack of dropping dead at inconvenient moments, don't they?"
"That cynical streak will give you ulcers. Now I want you to try. You may find it more difficult. The ground has cooled and it will be some time until it recovers. It will be possible, nevertheless."
"You want me to do that."
"You are wraithkin born, and gifted with power. Will you disappoint me?"
"I'm not here to please you, Raffmir."
"Nevertheless, it is a useful skill, is it not?"
I had to admit, the ability to travel a distance in an instant might come in useful. "Show me."
"Stand here. You need to see where you are going. Memory is not enough, you need to see your destination. If you can't see it, you can't go there."
I felt his magic creep out around us, concealing us once more.
"Focus on the distant point. Bring it closer with your eyes, if you can. What do you see between here and there?"
"Nothing."
"Yet there remains a distance between you. There is something. There is air, and space, and the distance between."
"Of course."
"But you are wraithkin. The space between is your space. The gaps between the gaps belong to you. If you concentrate, you can step around the distance. You can get from here to there without travelling in between."
"How? I don't see…"
"Don't see! Your sight is not to be trusted. It tells you lies. It says there is distance between here and there when there is merely a flimsy curtain with the world depicted upon it. Step behind that curtain and out again, do you see?"
"I'm not seeing it."
"More power; draw what you need. Use more than your eyes. Find the gaps, the cracks and crevices between the walls of the universe. Your sight tells you the world is solid. Your touch confirms the weight and texture of reality. But you are wraithkin. You have other senses. You can sense that the world is nowhere near as solid as it wants you to believe. It is thin and insubstantial. Push through."
"Into what?"
"Never mind what. Feel. Your element calls you as it calls all the wraithkin. Answer it and you will see."
And I did see. As I gathered power into me, the world began to dim. The sense of a solid reality fell away and I began to perceive it as a construct layered on top of something else. It lost its density and its stiffness and became more flexible, more permeable.
"Now. Focus on the hillside. Focus and step through."
I looked across at the copse of trees. I saw through the space between, not across the valley, but through space itself. And I stepped.
A blinding light flashed into my eyes. I raised my hand, but the light had already vanished. I was facing trees. The distant copse was in front of me, the leaves fluttering in the evening breeze. I turned and the valley stretched out beneath my feet. On the far side, a lone figure stood. There was no wave or acknowledgment. He simply watched.
He was right, it was impressive. I stared across the valley. As the man in the museum had said earlier, you get naught for nowt round 'ere. The Feyre were like that. They understood the basic economics of favour and return, and Raffmir had just shown me something quite spectacular. There was real value in it, so what did he want in return? Across the valley, he did not move.
I wrapped myself in misdirection, unwilling to be as open and obvious as he had been. Opening the well inside myself, I drew energy into me, letting it pull power from the surroundings. The light breeze acquired bite as the temperature fell. I lifted my hand to see filaments of white light drifting up my fingers, creating a tingling sensation and forming a corona around my hand. I let the power build, feeling a tension as the air and ground around me cooled.
The world dimmed before me, the hill becoming a shadow hill, the valley obscured in the dusk-light. It made me feel that I would fall through the delicate membrane on which I stood. In that veiled light, I could see other shadows, a wrinkle in the substance of the hill, flimsy curtains in the air, shifting layers in the air. I wondered what they meant, and whether I was seeing distortions in the fabric of reality or if it was simply the way things were formed.
Lifting my eyes, I saw that the sky had dimmed, taking on a twilight quality. The overcast clouds had faded, leaving a blue-grey mantle, prickled with faint stars. A sickly green-tinged moon lay close on the horizon. It was a world beneath the world, a level below or alongside, matched but subtly different.
I reminded myself why I was here and focused upon the far hilltop. This time it was easier to slip behind the curtain of reality and re-emerge on the far side. There was no rush. I didn't feel flung across space as I did on the Way. It was only a step. Raffmir waited patiently, his gaze focused far out where the purple hills merged with the grey cloud.
"You're right. It is impressive."
"What? No word of thanks? No gratitude?"
"Tell me first what you would have in return. There is something, isn't there?"
"I offer you my assurances. I would ask nothing from you that you would not give, and gladly. There, that is generous, is it not?"
I smiled wryly and shook my head. "I have no idea, Raffmir. But I will wait to offer my thanks until I know what it is you want in return."
"I desire only your trust, and your silence. The time will come soon enough when you will have to choose and it is never an easy choice between love and honour. I do not envy you."
"Tell me why I must choose, then."
"I offer you gifts and your first response is to ask for more. Your gratitude knows its bounds, cousin. But it must wait in turn, like all else. We cannot reach the end without passing through the middle."
"I thought that's what we just did," I said, looking back across this valley.
"A bad analogy. I have shown good faith and more besides. It is enough for one day. Come, I will return you to your seaside banishment."
I followed him across the ragged grass to the Waynode.
"Follow closely, and this time, try to exhibit some style."
He stepped on to the Way-node and swirled away without pausing. I followed close behind. We slingshotted around the first node and away towards the second, but instead of following him onward, I entered the node and arrived, wrapping myself in concealment. It was another high hilltop, somewhere in the Welsh borders, maybe.
Reorienting myself, I stepped quickly away, taking a side route away from his path. I had other plans and they did not include having Raffmir shadow me wherever I went. The next node-point was a barrow mound in a meadow, open to the sky, the smell of wet grass rich in the summer air. I diverted again. He would wait a little while for me to follow and then, perhaps, retrace our journey. If he tried to follow me, I wanted to make it as difficult as possible.
This time, I used his technique of skipping across the nodes and using their momentum to accelerate out again, making the most of the momentum and maximising the distance. There was no time to consult the codex, but I had a vague idea of direction and I used the node-points to guess my route. Nevertheless, I took a couple of unintentional wild detours, unable to quite control the helter-skelter freefall. I hoped that would only make me harder to follow.
I ended up in a woodland clearing, the steady drone of cars indicating some main route close by. I moved out of the clearing quickly, using a fallen branch to brush across my footprints, heading towards the road. It was afternoon, but I was counting on the midsummer daylight lasting late into the evening. It would be bright enough to be seen on the road for a while yet.
I'd hitched rides as a student. Before I'd learned to drive or had the money for a car, I'd stood on motorway junctions with a cardboard sign hoping for lifts. I knew the roads around Kent and the south-east fairly well. Sometimes my patience was rewarded, but often lifts were a short distance only or not quite in the right direction. I had been marooned on deserted junctions in appalling weather, so the sound of the busy road was encouraging. I tramped out of the woods on to a fourlane road with fast-moving cars.
The traffic was moving too quickly where I emerged, so I walked along the grass verge, keeping the traffic on my right so that I would head vaguely southwards. The cars and trucks rushed past, buffeting me as they passed. I knew that drivers were unlikely to stop unless they could get a good look at you as they went by and there was somewhere safe to stop. If I was lucky, one of them would decide I wasn't a drunk or a weirdo and pick me up.
After fifteen minutes' walking I came to a large roundabout. I had done better than I thought and had come out on the A5 somewhere south-east of Ashbourne. There was no sign of anyone following me, but I guessed that if Raffmir wanted to follow me without being seen then he could manage that. I stood on the hard shoulder, close enough to be seen by cars coming off the roundabout but not so close that they would be unable to stop without the car behind rear-ending them.
I took the first lift offered, which may not have been a good idea. The truck driver was Polish and grinned insanely the whole time. His truck cabin looked and smelled as if he lived in it. After twenty minutes of trying to get me to talk about football, which I neither knew nor cared about, he put the stereo on and filled the cab with thrash metal. We stopped at a set of lights just outside Derby and he passed over a pack of tablets. The writing on the foil was obscure, presumably Polish; it certainly wasn't English.
"You like, yes?" he asked me.
"I don't think so, no."
"Is caffeine, with spike for the head." He tapped the side of his temple and nodded knowingly.
I couldn't decide whether they were pep-pills or drugs. "I think I'll be OK without, thanks." I passed them back to him.
"Better," he said, "not sleep and drive."
I agreed that would be bad. He turned up the music to a point where it would have been impossible to sleep even without the pills. When he reached the M69 near Leicester, he was turning off, so I asked him to drop me at the roundabout. Climbing out of the cab, I thanked him for the lift.
"Good journey, my friend." He offered his hand and I shook it.
He rumbled away, merging with the moving traffic. I stood on the slipway back on to the M1 and waited for another lift south. I could have made my way to a Waynode and travelled much quicker from there, but this way it would be much harder for Raffmir to follow me. I had carefully not discussed my journey in the cab, so even if he used the rear-view mirror to eavesdrop he would not be able to find where I was or in which direction I was headed. Part of me liked the idea of him cringing to the sound of thrash metal while trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.
My next lift was a blue BMW and the guy driving it was wearing sunglasses, even though it was overcast. He drove fast, staying in the outside lane and rarely dropping below eighty. He talked incessantly about the car, how much fuel it used, where he bought it from, how much he paid for it, what torque it produced, on and on.
"I'm gonna have it chipped," he said.
"Chipped? Is that so they can track it if it gets stolen?"
"Nah, it's already got that. That was the first thing I had done. You have to with a car like this, don't you? Nah, I'm talking performance chipped."
"You've lost me." It wasn't the first time, either.
"You can have the engine management chip upgraded. The standard chip cuts out at six thousand RPM and limits the fuel intake. By upping the chip you can get another thirty brake horse at four K and wind it up to six eight hundred."
"Won't that damage the engine?" It was fairly powerful as it was. What was he going to do with even more?
"Not if you're careful."
He flashed his lights at a car that didn't get out of his way quickly enough, and then roared past when there was barely room to pass.
"Best be careful, then, eh?" I suggested, gently.
"Oh, I'm always careful." He grinned as the car accelerated past ninety again.
I spent the entire trip on the edge of my seat, wondering whether the next close shave would turn into a multi-car pile-up. He dropped me in North London. It was a relief to stand on solid ground. He roared away, ramming the car up through the gears.
From there it was a half-mile walk through the humid evening air to the bus stop. I felt bad slipping on to the bus unnoticed. It wasn't expensive and I would happily pay, but that would mean explaining where I wanted to go to the driver and I did not want to give any clue about that. Instead I sat alone near the back where I could watch who came and went. It took a rambling route, so that I didn't arrive near my destination until mid-evening. If anything, by then the air was heavier with moisture. That felt right, somehow. The last time I had been here had been for a memorial service.
I wanted to see for myself where Alex's accident was supposed to have happened. I knew the area had been sealed, pending an investigation, and that I would not be allowed access. At this time of day, though, there would be no one around and I could see what I wanted to see without needing permission.
The Alice Steadman Comprehensive School was in the middle of a large housing estate in North London. It served all the houses around and was a good enough school to attract children from outside the catchment area. It was difficult to get into, which was one of the reasons that Katherine and I had originally moved here. It was close enough to a Tube line to commute and had the amenities to make a decent area. It had a reputation for looking after its kids, even the difficult ones, and for getting results. It didn't have a reputation for drugs, knives, bullying or gang violence, which was more than you could say for some of the schools in the area.
The original Victorian buildings had been demolished when we first moved there and replaced with 1980s brick. There had been a protest, but the cost of bringing the old buildings up to standard had settled the matter. The new buildings were spacious with large windows and much improved facilities. The frontage was not imposing but looked efficient and functional, with the administrative offices facing the road to act as a barrier between visitors and the children. The teaching facilities formed a big E behind the admin block so that all classrooms had windows. The playground was behind that, which was where the gymnasium stood visible over the top of the other buildings.
I knew the school well enough to be aware that a footpath diverted around the edge of the playing field where a high fence protected the play area and sports fields. The access gate would be locked to prevent dog walkers fouling the pitch, but a locked gate wouldn't slow me down.
To reach the fence I had to walk around the estate, passing houses with upstairs windows open for the evening air and music spilling out over the neighbourhood. It wasn't a dangerous area, but I used my power to turn away curious eyes. I reached the side gate unnoticed by the kids playing football on the green space with piles of jerseys for goalposts, or mothers out wheeling buggies, older children trailing behind.
My experience with the church door had the padlock on the gate loose in my hand in seconds and allowed me to lock it again behind me. I strode across the field in full view of all the houses around, knowing that no one would see me. The door into the PE block was also locked but that was no harder than opening the gate. I crossed the sprung wooden floor, my footsteps echoing around the empty basketball courts. The door to the changing rooms was at the rear. Beyond was a small corridor leading to changing rooms marked "Boys" and "Girls". On the girls' changing room was a sign in large bold letters saying "Out Of Order", and underneath that, as if to emphasise the point, "DO NOT ENTER". The door to the girls' changing room was not locked. It swung closed behind me with a prolonged screech, making me wonder whether it had always done that.
I had been expecting some sign of what had happened here: not taped outlines on the floor or a sign saying "This is the Place", but some indication of what had occurred. Instead it looked like a building project.
The room smelled strongly of disinfectant and there was a power washer parked behind the door. Where the toilets had been there were bare holes in the floor, each stuffed with polythene bags. There were no sinks on the wall, just pipes and screw-holes in the walls where mirrors had been mounted above them. There was a blank screen wall where once showers had been fitted, and space for rows of benches where the children could get changed. All of that had been stripped back to the bare tiles.
In the centre of the floor near the sinks was a hole. I knelt down to examine it and drew my finger around the edge. The screw-holes were enlarged where the screws had been torn out and the tiles were cracked and jagged-edged. The drain was spotlessly clean and smelled of bleach.
I stood again and turned slowly around. There were small rectangular windows high along one side wall, high enough to stop the boys peeking in while the girls were changing. I could see the window catches had limiters, allowing the windows to be tilted for ventilation but not opened enough for anyone to escape through.
I closed my eyes and tried to sense what had happened here. All I could feel was the chill of a room scoured clean and left long empty.
"Hello? Anyone there?" The voice came from the corridor to the main hall. I moved around behind the wall for the showers. There were footsteps on the tiles outside. I drew concealment around me, feeling the air chill in response.
The door squealed open. "Hello?" It was a question hoping not to be answered. "Is there someone there?"
I concentrated on being unseen.
"I coulda sworn I locked that door."
There was the scrape of a footstep as he entered the room. "This place gives me the creeps," said the voice. "Shoulda knocked the bloody thing down."
The door hinges protested and the footsteps receded. I waited until the spring closure pressed the door closed with a final thunk. I heard him entering the boys' changing room, his voice reverberating through the adjoining wall. He moved around for a while and then retreated.
What light there was in the changing room was fading, so I went back to the door. Trying to open it quietly just made it worse, so I opened it as little as I could and slipped through to the corridor. The owner of the voice had departed, so I could slip out of the fire door on the far side of the gym, shouldering it closed behind me as quietly as I could. I strode back across the field as the light from the overcast clouds faded and the evening deepened into twilight.
Once through the gate in the fence, I was back in the estate and as unremarkable as anyone else. I let the concealment slip away and made my way along the streets, past smells of cooking and noises of TV: family life in the suburbs.
Originally, I hadn't intended to go and see Katherine, but my mind was pondering the clean-up after the accident at the school and whether that meant anything. Were the school paying for the refurbishment or had they got funding from somewhere else? Would the source of the money provide any clue to where Alex was? How could I get access to that information? My feet were on automatic and followed the route from Alex's school through the streets, across the park and back to the street where we had made our home.
I nearly stumbled when I noticed where I was. It brought me suddenly to a halt when I realised that if I saw Katherine she would ask me how I was and what I was doing there. I moved so there was a tree between me and the house. I couldn't just turn up unannounced on her doorstep, could I?
Lying to her would be extremely difficult and the subject of Alex was bound to come up. Garvin was right about one thing: I could not explain to Katherine that Alex wasn't dead. It wasn't that I wanted to lie to her or that I didn't want her to know, but what could I say to her? I could hardly tell her that Alex was alive but I didn't know where she was. If I accused the authorities of kidnapping her then I was going to look as if I had lost my grip on reality. Grief was one thing, delusion quite another.
If I managed to convince her, she was likely to turn up on the local MP's doorstep within the hour and demand the return of her daughter, and then she would have to explain how she knew Alex was alive, making it look as if neither of us was sane. Besides, Garvin had said the authorities would be looking for me, in which case wandering into an MP's office or a police station probably wasn't a good idea.
Maybe it was the thought that people were searching for me that made me peek around the tree to see if anyone had noticed me arrive. That's when I noticed the car. It was parked across the road from the house and would not have been remarkable but for the two men sat inside it. They didn't get out and they didn't drive away.
Instead, they sat waiting, watching Katherine's house.