White Trail by Fflur Dafydd Read Free Book Online

dryest, most boring things, Cilydd, you just wouldn’t have the foggiest what everyone was going on about. Trust me, you wouldn’t enjoy it,’ Gwelw said, before clipping her briefcase firmly shut, cracking – or so it felt to Cilydd – every one of his bones as she did so.
    â€˜Dad, there’s no way you’re coming with me. The idea of you lurking around the pool in your bathrobe watching us, it’s just... creepy,’ Lleuwen said. ‘Mum, tell him it’s weird.’
    â€˜Cilydd, she’s right, it’s weird. This has got to stop now. The girls are in their twenties, they don’t need a chaperone. You have to have your own life. Haven’t you got any losses to adjust?’
    Cilydd could not shake the feeling that something truly terrible was about to happen to him, and that if he let his wife and daughter walk out of the house that weekend, he was unlikely ever to see them again. He resorted to begging them to stay. He found himself on the driveway taking his wife’s bags back out of the car.
    â€˜Cilydd, for God’s sake, leave them where they are,’ she said. Even when she was angry she would not raise her voice; her teeth would form a dam, holding her fury in place with perfect stil ness. ‘People are looking.’
    Out of the corner of his eye he saw some brown curtains rustling in the house opposite. He wondered who else was watching them.
    â€˜Back they go. That’s it. Good. Thank you. Now, ’she said, as though addressing a small child. ‘You stay here. Have a weekend on your own. Maybe it’ll do you good. And don’t give Lleuwen any grief when she leaves.’
    â€˜But really now...’
    â€˜ Cariad... ’ his wife said, finitely, with a hard-hitting c. You knew when she said cariad , an unusual departure from her ivory-solid expressions, she meant business. As she drove away he waved limply at her, noticing that she wasn’t even looking in her rear-view mirror at him – she was merely observing the road – in keeping with her correctness, her precision, her attention to rules and regulations. When his daughter left three hours later, he tried to restrain himself from going downstairs. Instead he watched her getting into her friend’s car from an upstairs window, and stopped his knuckles from rapping out a desperate farewell.
    By the time she’d rounded the corner the phone was ringing.
    The first night without them was bearable, just about, though he could not shake the feeling that someone, somewhere, knew all about him and Doged, someone who was waiting for an opportune moment to bring his world crashing down at his feet. In a fit of paranoia he bolted every door in the house, and took the phone off the hook. Then he thought of his wife and Lleuwen, of how they would be trying to get in touch with him, perhaps, to see how he was. He imagined how selfish and stupid he would look if they arrived home, thinking he had done himself harm, only to find him sitting in his chair, watching the television, and so he put the phone back. He sat there, perfectly still, just watching it – as if observing a creature in the wild. The moment he let his shoulders relax and eyes wander, it started ringing. It knew, he thought. The telephone knew and it was going to devour him whole if he moved. And so he held his breath and ignored it. The seventh time it rang he thought it had to be Gwelw, and so he took his chances. It was. She wanted to know why he wasn’t answering. ‘Didn’t hear it ring,’ he lied. ‘A technical fault, the email’s down as well, I’ll get someone to look at it tomorrow. How are things at the conference?’ he added, affecting a jovial tone that was completely at odds with his churning insides. ‘It’s OK,’ said Gwelw, ‘the same old chitter-chatter about bones.’ She launched into something he didn’t understand about