Chapter 99 Elin

99

Elin

Parque Nacional, Portugal, October 2021

Lights are coming on one by one in the village on the opposite side of the valley, little pinpricks of glow appearing against the shadow of the hills. The sun is sinking below the mountains beyond, the blue of the sky above just tipping into pastel.

It's Elin's favourite time of day in the park; when the land quietened, drew breath, let go of the day gone by.

It's getting properly cold, though, she thinks, zipping up her jacket. Mornings and evenings now feel sharp-edged, inhospitable. Autumn's bedding in. Making its mark.

It felt like the right time to leave. Not just the park, but the situation with Kier. Resolution, of a kind: Kier had decided to speak to the Portuguese police and cooperate.

To Elin, it was clear that she'd been acting in self-defence, but the onus would be on her to prove it. The justice system worked differently here: Kier would be put up in front of a judge who would assess the evidence and make the final call .

Her thoughts move to the camp. Their situation was more complicated. Getting rid of Zeph's body at the falls would be an unlawful burial in the UK and probably illegal here too. Until the police confirmed it wasn't murder, they'd potentially be seen as accessories as well. Things had been muddied further by Ned and Maggie sending messages from Zeph and Kier's phones – effectively impersonating them. She had no idea how that would be seen here.

Elin wouldn't be surprised if the camp moved on before it went any further. Part of her hoped they did. Despite the job, her moral obligations, cases like this had so many grey areas. No definite rights or wrongs.

‘So … last day.' Isaac squeezes in beside her, breaking her reverie. ‘How are you feeling, about going back? All this going on, we haven't really checked in.'

Elin picks up her drink, thinking for a moment. Among the craziness of the past week, it's something she hasn't really considered, not properly.

‘Good,' she says finally. ‘It feels like I can just … be, for the first time. You were right, you know, what you said the other day. Just because something's hard, doesn't mean it isn't progress. After all this time, it's like I can actually' – she stops, trying to find the right words – ‘like I can actually see myself.'

‘And what do you see?' he asks softly.

‘Someone I like. Someone human. Flawed.' Elin takes a sip of beer. ‘But someone who's always relied on other people for her happiness. That's been the toughest pill to swallow, I think. I thought that by leaving Will, I'd taken a step forwards, but I'd just come to rely on Steed instead.' She shrugs. ‘That's the thing I still need to work on. Being happy on my own.'

Isaac takes a long pull of his own beer. ‘To be honest, I think that's something most people struggle with.'

‘Even you?'

He nods. ‘All the time. I reckon it's the hardest thing to wrap your head around – being comfortable in your own company.'

They sit for a minute, lost in their own thoughts.

‘And how do you feel about the whole Steed thing?' Isaac asks after a beat. ‘Now you've seen him? '

‘Still can't stop thinking about how close he got, at the camp, to doing serious damage to Ned.' Elin stares into the distance. ‘Makes you wonder if that kind of violence is in everyone given the right circumstances.' She pauses. ‘I reckon people probably hold a whole lot more inside than we ever realise. Good, bad, everything in between.'

‘You think that's the case with him?'

‘Yeah. I think he probably did mean what he said, about the friendship being real. That most of the time, who he was with me was genuine, and somehow, that part of him was somehow able to exist quite happily alongside the person who sent those shitty messages.'

Isaac nods, his expression conflicted.

‘Are you thinking about your friendship with him?' Elin asks.

‘Yeah.' His voice is raw. ‘Same as you, just wonder how much of it was real. I keep thinking back about everything I told him. About me … Laure.'

‘I get it,' she says quietly. ‘And how's all that going now?'

‘I don't know …' Isaac shrugs. ‘Not much has changed, the grief, I mean, but I think this has been good, even with everything that's happened. Getting away, with you.'

As the conversation lapses, they sit together in silence, spend a while looking out as the night closes in around them. The sun had dipped completely behind the hills now, casting the valley into deep shadow.

‘I'm going to miss this place,' Elin says quietly. ‘It's funny, when we first arrived, I saw the park as something dark, malevolent even, but I've done a complete one-eighty. Being out here … it feels like I can breathe again.'

He nods. ‘I know what you mean. Makes me think about Kier's maps. When Steed first showed me, I didn't get it, not properly, but now I reckon there are places that make you really feel something.' He looks out. ‘I think it's not just the place, sometimes it's about who you're with when you're there.'

‘Probably.' Elin smiles. She hadn't thought about it that way: people and place combined .

Isaac tips his head sideways to look at her. ‘So what would you put on your map, if you had to do one? No thinking it over. First place that comes to mind. Right now.'

Tracing the path of a bird swooping low overhead, Elin thinks. ‘Here,' she says. ‘First place would be here.'

‘The park?'

‘No … well, yes, but a bit more precise than that. I was thinking more about this spot, right here.'

A silence falls, suddenly thick between them. There's so much more she wants to say: about them, their past, her hopes for the future, but she can't quite find the words.

‘Me too,' he says finally. ‘You and me … it's better, isn't it?'

Elin nods, his words summing it up better than hers ever could. It was better.

For the first time in a long time, things felt easy between them. It just was , as real and present as the trees and the sky. No sense of something missing or even something found.

Shuffling her chair closer, she lays her head against his shoulder.

His jacket smells like him: like family. Like coming home.

Side by side, they look out over the valley, watching the bird above them doing nothing, going nowhere, turning imperfect circles, wheeling carelessly through the sky.