Page 46 of Don't Believe A Word

ROBERT: ‘It’s kind of sad to think of her now, wondering who she really was … What happened to make her leave as abruptly as she did? More crucially, why didn’t she take her daughter with her?’

CRISTY: ‘Did she ever say anything to make you think that she might be planning to leave the child, even for a short time?’

ROBERT: ‘No, nothing – at least not that I remember. In fact, I still find it hard to believe that she did.’

CRISTY: ‘I don’t have it with me, but the note the sisters found in Sadie’s pocket said, “Please take care of her until I can come back for her.” Do you have any thoughts on that?’

ROBERT: ‘I guess the first question for me is, why did she need to leave her? What kind of situation was she in that meant she couldn’t take her child wherever she was going? Anddidshe ever come back? I guess we have to assume she didn’t given that Sadie is still with her aunts all these years later – or one of them at least.’

CRISTY: ‘Another big question for me iswhydid Janina put her child into the protection of strangers? It seems so … drastic.’

ROBERT: ‘Except we can safely say that she chose the protectors carefully – two wealthy women with reputations for doing well by children, and who might not be quite as inclined as some to contact the authorities. It was a big risk, but presumably she took it because she didn’t want the child carried off by the state. If that happened she might never have got her back.’

CRISTY: ‘But she didn’t anyway, which means she either decided to leave her where she was to have a better life than she could provide. Or maybe she did go back and thesisters paid her a huge sum to go away again. Or something else altogether happened.’

ROBERT: ‘Keeping in mind that she was probably from somewhere in Eastern Europe, there has to be the possibility of her being deported, or worse. Trafficking was pretty big back then – still is, of course – and once in the hands of those guys, there’s no knowing what might happen to a girl, especially one as beautiful as she was.’

CRISTY: ‘I’m finding it quite disturbing to think she could have been caught up in something so … evil and dehumanizing. But she seems to have moved around quite freely, if we go by the times you saw her.’

ROBERT: ‘Indeed, so maybe there wasn’t any kind of gang control going on.’

CRISTY: ‘What about her brother? If he left the area at the same time she did, and he seems to have, what would that have been about?’

ROBERT: ‘You’ve circled me back to trafficking with that … Maybe they were both trying to escape some sort of servitude or tyranny and felt it was too dangerous to take a child with them.’

CRISTY: ‘So leaving her with the sisters would seem like a safe option? I guess I can see that, if we’re on the right lines, and there’s nothing to say we are. We need to be in touch with Butlin’s to find out what they can tell us about someone called Lukas circa 2000.’

She was looking back along the coastline to where the holiday camp’s flashy conical domes were gleaming brightly in the sunshine.

ROBERT: ‘I shouldn’t think you’d find it open today.’

CRISTY: ‘Even if it was, we wouldn’t be knocking on the door for information. We’ll have to start by going throughofficial channels, at which point we’ll almost certainly run up against data protection, but that’s for later … For now, shall we walk on?’

ROBERT: ‘I hope you’re ready for a climb, because just along the trail we’re going to run into a pretty steep one.’

Half an hour later, still breathless from the seemingly endless scramble up an insane incline to a – thank God – much friendlier trail with magnificent sea views, Cristy was trying not to be annoyed by how effortless Robert had made it all seem. Still, at least he hadn’t laughed at the way she’d lunged about like an idiot trying to gain purchase on tree roots and impacted rocks, or commented on the frequency she’d had to stop to calm down her heartbeat. He’d simply waited patiently, ready with a hand to haul her up over the cruellest terrain, while not slipping once or managing to stick his ass out like a baboon, or get his scarf snagged by a rogue bramble that had almost throttled her. He was, she reminded herself, a seasoned hiker, at least according to his mother, and this adequately proved it.

‘Most people can’t do that in one go,’ he told her, as they strolled on through a leafy glade towards, she presumed, the sisters’ hillside holiday place, ‘but you managed it.’

‘If you discount the several times my ambition and dignity were stuffed by the need to take in oxygen. You made it seem like a walk in the park, so I can only conclude that you’ve done Everest, Kilimanjaro and Mont Blanc, probably all in the same week.’

He gave a laugh. ‘I admit to Kilimanjaro, and the foothills of Everest, but many of the places I’ve hiked aren’t generally that well known. It’s something I do, if I get time, when I’m working in Africa, or Asia. It helps to calm the mind and bring a more spiritual perspective to an otherwise terrible world.’

‘You’re talking about the work you do withMédecins Sans Frontières?’she asked.

He stopped to gaze out across the grand expanse of the Severn Estuary. ‘It can be harrowing, sometimes to the point of driving you mad … You see so many things that should never bepossible, that one human being should never inflict on another. And you hear so many promises from the so-called civilized world that sound good for their electorates, for those with a social conscience, but that all too often end up meaning very little to those who are suffering.’ He turned to look at her and smiled. ‘It makes you appreciate the simplicity and beauty of moments like this.’

‘How often do you go to war zones?’ she asked.

‘They’re not all war zones, some are just parts of the world in desperate need of medical care that they can’t get any other way. And not as often now as I used to, is the answer. I’m afraid I’m not one of the superheroes of the organization who’ve made MSF their full-time career. I just go to help out where I can for as long as I can, but I can tell you it plays hell with your mental well-being.’

Easily able to imagine that, she said, ‘The rest of the time you’re a heart surgeon in Melbourne?’

‘Correct. And you’re an investigator who’s trying to find answers for a young woman in need of knowing who she really is, so let’s go and have a look at the house she was taken into at the age of two. It’s quite close now.’

Quite close turned out to be another half-mile at least along the track, but it was mostly easy going through random scatterings of winter-bare elder and beech trees, and leafy green tangles of alkanet, brambles and ivy each side of the path. Silently naming the grasses was a habit she’d acquired from her mother who’d loved wild plants and flowers. David’s mother was the same, it was one of the first things she and Cynthia had talked about when they’d met, right here on Exmoor, albeit several miles from this particular spot. Naturally, thoughts of Cynthia turned to wondering about David, and how he might be feeling following their break-up. Was he actually feeling anything? She had no idea, only knew that she wished she hadn’t thought of him. However, being here today, with Robert, someone so different and fortunately attached, was certainly distracting, and actually quite uplifting.

Coming to a stop beside him as he paused at the top of a vast green field flowing gently down to the water’s edge, Cristy looked to where he was pointing and felt a jolt of surprise. Some fiftyyards below was an old wooden stile only partly visible through a cluster of trees.

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