The Witness (ebook)

Argumento de The Witness (ebook)

When Alice, a middle-aged mother and wife, sees a couple having sex in the park, she is embarrassed but walks on and thinks no more of it. Later, however, a policeman knocks on her door, asking her to make a statement about what she saw. The man from the couple is notorious for taking advantage of young girls, and the one from the park was only fifteen. Alice is the only witness. If she gives evidence in court, she might stop the man from hurting more vulnerable adolescents. But by putting herself on the stand, Alice risks exposing her own past ?

One of the reasons they had bought their house in this sought-after seaside town, not far from Plymouth, was because of the park. It went on for miles, weaving its way inland as though purposefully trying to distract tourists from the sea like a jealous sibling.

Alice varied her walks. The beach first thing in the morning when she would jog along the front, nodding a cheery hello to the other runners whilst plump, screaming seagulls pecked at leftover fish and chips thrust into bins by the tourists. The park at lunchtime. Sea in the afternoon. Park again in the evening. On the lead in winter and off if it was summer when she could see the dog clearly.

When they?d first got Mungo, the vet?s assistant had advised them to walk him a lot. ?It?s the ones that don?t get enough exercise who misbehave,? she had warned them. Yet, sometimes, Alice suspected that it was her who needed to get out, more than the dog.

Now, as he ran in front of her eagerly chasing the ball (no wonder her right arm, though slender like the rest of her, bore traces of muscle!), Alice felt a welcome peace seeping through her. It was so beautiful with the river running through it. The grass, freshly cut by the council, smelt as fragrant as the Chanel which she always wore. Number Five, she would say when asked although she had skirted, for a time, with Number 19 before returning guiltily, like a repentant wife.

Incredible really, she thought, putting up her hand to shield the sun from her eyes, that it was already early evening yet it could be the middle of the afternoon. So light! So summery. And yet, at the same time, quite empty. Earlier, when she?d been here at lunchtime, there had been the usual coterie of mothers and pushchairs with toddlers clutching the sides or else riding their trikes, wobbling precariously on stabilisers. The memory, as usual, had made Alice?s heart lurch, recalling Garth?s early years and her mother?s warning to ?make the most of it because it doesn?t last?, even though at the time it had seemed to go on for ever.

Now, as Alice threw the second ball ? two were advisable because it encouraged Mungo to come back ? it felt as though she was almost on a stage set. No one else was around, save a young couple sitting on a bench just over there, under a clump of willow trees. It was quiet too. Unusually so.

The girl had auburn hair, she observed. About the same age as Garth, perhaps. Very thin, willowy and almost nymph-like in stature. What was she wearing? From this distance, it looked like a very short black skirt under an orange T-shirt. Still, that?s how girls dressed nowadays, wasn?t it? The other day in the shopping centre, she?d seen a young teenager ? surely no more than twelve ? wearing laddered tights under blue denim shorts, begging for money. The extent of homelessness, even in a city like Plymouth, often shocked her. Where had that girl?s parents been?

Often, Alice had secretly imagined what it would have been like to have had a daughter. She would have called her Victoria, she?d decided. Vicky for short although her daughter would have spelled it differently with an ?i? because she would have been adventurous. Able to stand up for herself. Not like Alice.

Meanwhile, the boy, who seemed older, wore a leather jacket and was sitting on the bench, legs outstretched, looking out across the park but not in a searching manner. More of a nothing-to-do-way.

Alice recognised that. Sometimes when she went for a long walk with Mungo, she took a break and sat for a while; wondering what Garth was doing and trying not to text because everyone said that you had to let go at that age.

Had the couple just had a row, wondered Alice? They were just sitting there, side by side, without even touching or, as far as she could see, talking. It struck her that this could be her and Daniel in an hour or so?s time, facing each other in a restaurant, searching for something to say. Why couldn?t he just have come back later as normal so they could have their usual TV supper (the chops were already marinating in honey and ginger in the fridge although she supposed they would last until tomorrow) and then they would have been saved that painful non-conversation.

?Other ball,? she instructed Mungo who had come up clamouring for the second. ?Find the other ball first.?

It took him a while to find it amongst the newly mown grass cuttings by the river and, when he did, Alice realised the bench was now empty. The girl was walking gracefully ? almost floating ? towards the hedge that ran between the park and an old cottage which Alice had often admired; not that anything would ever possess her to leave their white Regency townhouse which she had taken such care over; with its mix of old and new; original fireplaces and flagstone floors covered with rich red and gold rugs from Liberty.

Meanwhile, the auburn-haired girl was moving very slowly; very deliberately. Almost as though in a film. Extremely straight. Quite erect with a certain out-of-world air that one could not help but admire. If this had been evening, one might have been forgiven for imagining she was a ghost.

Curiosity made Alice wonder if the girl had got up from the bench in a huff. A lover?s tiff perhaps. Or maybe the couple were merely friends and she was walking back home from college. Then again, she didn?t appear to be carrying a bag of any description. Nor had she left one on the bench.

Alice noticed details like that. You should be a writer, a teacher had once said at school. But when she had ventured to mention this to the sixth-form careers ?department? (a plain, uninspiring room, manned by a part-time woman with tight grey curls), she was told that it was ?very difficult to get in? and that she?d be far better off as an English or art teacher ? leaving the path clear for other more deserving would-be novelists. In the event, neither had happened.

The girl was kneeling down now. She appeared to be looking for something while the boy was standing up, quite straight. His eyes were fixed in the same direction as earlier, not moving, as though he was a figurehead on a ship. Alice was close enough to see these things although not quite close enough to be certain. It looked like the girl was putting a plaster on the boy?s knee. Indeed, his trousers were, she was pretty certain, on the ground and the girl?s mouth was ?

A hot red flush crawled over her cheeks. Surely not. It couldn?t be. Not here in the park where there might be anyone around. Besides, it didn?t fit with the girl?s appearance. She?d seemed so young. So graceful. Too insubstantial for something as basic as lust.

Confused, unsure what to do, Alice glanced around, aware she was shaking. Surely someone else could step in. Stop them. But the park was still deserted save for her and Mungo who was worrying at her for the second ball.

?Ouch! That hurt. Bad boy,? she said out loud as his teeth grazed her hand. Throwing it in the opposite direction from the couple, she tried to walk on but her gaze was curiously drawn back, Lot-wife style.

Oh my God. Alice, who didn?t like to use His name (it seemed wrong when you were a regular at Evensong, a service which she found far more soothing than the more informal, modern-worded morning service), found herself moving closer to the couple; drawn by an invisible force.

The girl was lying on the ground now, her legs clearly up in the air in a v-shape. The boy was on top. His head down. There could be no doubt now. She could even see a small bluebird tattoo on the girl?s slim neck.

Something had to be done. Didn?t the couple realise they were in a public place? Any minute now, some mother with a gaggle of children on their way to Cubs or back from the beach after a late day out, might come across this ? this spectacle. It could traumatise them for ever!

Alice?s right hand closed over the mobile phone in her pocket. She could call the police but, then again, might that not be as traumatic for the girl as it had been for her , all those years ago? Could she really inflict on her the same horrors that had stamped the old Alice, on the cusp of womanhood?

Besides, supposing this couple were in love? What if they had just got carried away? What if Garth was doing something similar with a girl on a foreign beach? Would she really thank a stranger for reporting them?

Better, surely, that she made her way back. ?Home,? she called out to Mungo. It was one of the few words he obeyed, providing she had sufficient treats in her pocket. Swiftly slipping the lead over his head, she took a left over the bridge, heading for the short-cut. Just as she reached the furthest point of visibility, she glanced back.

The couple were still on the grass in the same position. At the main gates, she could see someone else entering. On a bike. Good. Let that person deal with it then. Breaking out into a jog, Alice felt the heat still searing through her body along with an icy feeling, as though she had flu.

?You were quick.? Daniel was already dressed in his smart brown hound?s-tooth patterned sports jacket; catching up on the paper in the spacious kitchen which had doubled up as a den when Garth was little, with its squashy sofa in the corner. Now it was her ?office? where she took calls from clients, carefully noting down their needs in the little black book on the small lavender and pink mosaic-top table, which she?d made herself at a crafts workshop.

?Was I?? Alice glanced at the clock. It felt as though she had been out for an age yet it had only been twenty minutes.

?Did you run?? Daniel took in her hot, dishevelled appearance with a look that might either be amusement or disapproval. It was hard to read his mind nowadays; a criticism which he, ironically, had thrown at her the other month.

?Yes. No. Sort of.?

She ought to tell him, Alice thought, as she busied herself, putting out fresh water for Mungo and scooping out his evening ration of dry food. But that would mean mentioning the ?sex? word. Why spoil the evening before she?d given it a chance? ?I?m just going to have a shower. Won?t be long.?

Then she heard it. They all did, including the dog who tore past to the window, barking furiously. The sound of a siren. In London, it had been so familiar as to be unremarkable. The whirring of rescue helicopters was another matter. They were used to that here ? amazing how people ignored the Danger sign on the cliff edge. But sirens were unusual unless someone had slipped in the high street and broken a leg, as had happened last month to an old lady from church. The snap, apparently, had been audible.

?Sounds like something?s happened in the park,? said Daniel looking out of the window. He squinted as he tried to focus; time and time again, she had to remind him to wear his new tortoiseshell glasses. Vanity or forgetfulness, she wondered. Both played their part in her husband?s life. ?Did you see anything when you were there?? he added curiously.

?No.? Alice heard her voice coming out like someone else?s. Just as it had done all those years ago. ?No. I didn?t.?

It was wrong to lie. How many times had she told Garth that? But far worse than the mistruth, was that strange feeling down below her waist, that had started when she had first seen the couple and which was still there now.

An excitement mixed with a disgust that made her want to gag.

Would the past never go away?

'A gripping thriller ... The story will enthral you until the very last page!' Candis magazine

?She writes so well and I m sure Inspector Morse would have enjoyed this.?

Colin Dexter.0