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Elin

Parque Nacional, Portugal, October 2021

In the tourist office the man they spoke to before is alone behind the desk, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. Although he smiles as they approach – a fixed, professional smile – Elin senses a wariness behind it.

‘Hello, again.’ The smile slips a little, one eye still on the computer. ‘I’m afraid if you have more questions about your friend, I don’t have any more information than I did before.’

‘No, it’s not about that.’ Elin steps a little closer to the desk. ‘We wondered if you knew something about this?’ Withdrawing the leaflet from her bag, she lays it in front of him. ‘It has details about contacting the tourist office, and here, on the front—’ Flipping it over, she gestures to the pira. ‘We recognised this symbol as Kier’s work, the woman we’re looking for. We thought it might help us understand a little more what she was doing here.’

The man stares at the leaflet for a moment before looking back at them, his cheeks colouring. ‘I—’ Clearing his throat, he starts again. ‘Where did you get this?’

Elin exchanges a glance with Isaac. ‘We found it.’

‘ Found it?’

‘Yes, and we’re wondering if you know what it’s about.’ She gestures to the pira again. ‘What this symbol means?’

The man’s head moves a little – a tiny, involuntary movement – before he visibly swallows, as if trying to compose himself.

Elin senses that she’s going to have to be the one to lead the conversation. ‘We know that this’ – she points to the pira – ‘is linked to the piras that appear across the park.’

He frowns. ‘ Piras ?’

‘Yes, the structures made of branches, shaped like a tepee.’

A look of recognition dawns before his face closes over, his eyes cast down towards the desk.

‘It’s complicated,’ he says finally. ‘All I can tell you is that the tourist office is a neutral place for people to come for more information.’

‘From Maggie?’ Turning the leaflet over, Isaac runs his finger over the words below the pira. ‘That’s what it says here. Ask for Maggie . Do you know her?’

‘I’m sorry,’ the man says, a tremor in his voice. ‘I really can’t give you any more information than that.’

‘But why Maggie?’ Isaac pushes, frustration creeping into his tone. ‘What does she have to do with it?’

‘My advice would be to speak to her.’

‘We can’t. Things are awkward, with the group.’ Elin changes tack. ‘Please, we just need to know what the leaflet is about. Kier’s brother is out of his mind with worry, and it could be important in helping us find out what’s happened.’

The man’s face softens. ‘Look, all I can say is that Kier isn’t involved in something bad. In fact, it’s the opposite.’ He places his palm flat on the image of the pira. ‘This symbol, it’s a way of communicating to people. People who need it the most.’ Flustered, he casts a look towards the door. ‘I’m afraid it’s not my place to say any more. Like I said, you should speak to Maggie.’ Abruptly, he dips his head, looking back at his computer. ‘I need to get back to work. I’m sorry I can’t help any further.’

Back outside, they stand in silence for a moment, both wrapped in their own thoughts.

‘That raises a whole lot of other questions, doesn’t it?’ Isaac says. ‘I wasn’t expecting any of that—’.

Elin nods, playing the conversation back in her mind.

People who need it the most.

Somewhere, deep inside her head, connections are starting to form. Thoughts and moments that had seemed entirely innocuous until this point are pulling together, forming fragile links and ties.

‘Coffee?’ Isaac gestures to the café a few doors down. ‘I think we need some help unpacking all that.’

Elin registers his voice, but it’s nothing more than background noise as she runs the past few days over in her head, tipping what she’d learnt first one way and then the next.

‘You all right?’ Isaac waves a hand in front of her face. ‘You look out of it.’

‘Yeah, just thinking.’

‘You need a minute?’ He stops outside the café. ‘I can order for us.’

‘Please. Just a coffee for me.’ At the table in the corner of the terrace, a baby is shrieking, throwing small pieces of biscuit over the side of its highchair, but the sound is nothing compared to the rattling of the thoughts inside her head.

Kier’s map. The camp’s fiercely guarded secrecy. Leah’s scar. Maggie’s. Leah’s fears about her ex being in the park, the one who blew up the van. Bridie dancing at the clearing. Romy’s philanthropic work. The scratched-out initials on the tree at the river beach .

Fragments of sentences:

We’re like family. Leah, especially. She’s the one who really understands, gets what it’s like to … Leah’s like a daughter to her. All of them are …

Leah .

More thoughts start to build. Leah, genuinely frightened in the woods. Frightened enough to believe that her ex-partner blew up the van.

Could he have …

Theories racing through her mind, she chews over the newspaper article she’d read about Leah. There was a mention of her ex there, how both of them had been charged with extortion. She’d taken it at face value, but …

Reaching for her phone, Elin navigates to the article again. Once she confirms his name, Raymond Kenney, she taps it into her search, sifting through the results to find ones relevant to the area where Leah lived before.

Raymond Kenney is mentioned in several news articles. A few are various sites reporting the extortion charge, but the others focus on a completely different crime.

Elin reads and rereads the first article that details it, growing hot all over as Leah’s words up at the falls echo in her mind.

It should have been me, not her.

Surely that has to refer to this?

Her hands are trembling as she puts the phone down on the table.

As she thinks it through – what it means for Kier’s disappearance – the flicker of the thought she’d had earlier sparks into life.

Elin closes her eyes, focuses, tries to let the memory build. More appears: a van door, near the beach. A male voice, shouting.

The idea grows, and it’s as if that thought – now loose – sets another one free. She can see it – in an odd, heightened detail – the nightclub near the harbour. The same face, the same anger. Pushing someone up against the wall.

Eyes still shut, she tries to recapture it. Fragments appear, distilled into individual moments. Not just what she saw, but heard, felt .

Sweat cooling on her skin, a woman’s cry. Fear.

The thought attaches to another and another and another inside her mind, and as the links between them get stronger she wonders how she didn’t see it before.

Elin’s skin prickles.

Laying the leaflet on the table, she runs her finger over the pira Kier had painted, testing the idea for strength in her mind. Probing it for flaws.

But there’s nothing. Only more thoughts gathering, thoughts that add weight to the idea.

‘Sorry about the wait.’ Isaac’s voice startles her as he places the coffees down on the table. ‘Busier than I thought.’ He stops, eyes roaming across her face. ‘You feeling ok? You still don’t look right.’

‘No, I’m fine,’ Elin says slowly. ‘I’ve been going over what the man said. I think we’ve been looking at this the wrong way round. Completely the wrong way round.’