streams through each of these are running high at this time of year, so it’s not always a simple matter getting across them. The ground can be quite boggy down there?
And with the shoes Becky was wearing.
Did she struggle at all?
Struggle.
I mean, if she was having difficulty getting across the streams, keeping her feet dry. Did she express any discomfort or irritation, any reluctance? Did she ever want to stop, or go back?
And did you wait for her, at that point?
Did she catch up?
But you at least kept her in sight?
What were your feelings by then, if you don’t mind me asking?
That’s understandable. Of course.
My daughter was that age not so long ago, I know how
Of course.
Was there any discussion between the two of you about cutting the walk short? Given the conditions, and Becky’s behaviour?
Was there any disagreement between the two of you, would you say?
And by this point you’re how far up the track, how close to Black Bull Rocks?
And had there been any change in the weather?
So you had no reason to be concerned?
How were you finding the conditions? You were wearing more suitable footwear, presumably? You had kept dry up until then?
And had you seen anyone else, had you passed anyone on the track, had you seen anyone in the distance?
Now
this will, I understand
I’m sorry
Can you be clear about when you first realised Becky was out of sight?
And you assumed
she was coming up the steps out of the clough? You were not long out of it yourselves?
How far behind would you say she was when you saw her last?
I realise
of course
you have, I know
But we agreed, didn’t we, that this would be
a chance
a chance for you to put your side of the story.
Obviously I know you’ll have been through all this with the police, many times, I do appreciate
I do
But people have questions. Not just locally. People are
It would be helpful to clarify
It would be helpful to hear it from you. People would appreciate that.
Is this?
Can we?
No, absolutely. None of this will
You can decide, afterwards, you can reconsider.
I just want to help you tell your side of the story.
Absolutely.
So. If we can
You realised she was out of sight. You waited. She didn’t appear. You had already talked about cutting the walk short anyway so
one of you wanted to
You waited, and she didn’t appear. You went back to the top of the path leading up out of the clough, the valley, and you couldn’t see her there.
And you called for her, presumably?
You looked to see where she was, if she might be hiding?
At what point did you start to actually become concerned?
And the weather was turning?
How long would you say you were looking before you decided to fetch help?
And your phone
So you had to come back
You came down
And you
This is
I know
I’m sorry
Could you
are you able to say what happened next?
The first Vicky knew about it was when the girl’s parents came bursting into the pub.
The two of them were both talking at once and it took a minute to work out what they were saying. They couldn’t find her, was the gist of it.
Their anoraks were covered in mud, so it wasn’t much of a leap to guess they meant someone was missing on the hills. Tony had Mountain Rescue on the phone while they were still getting their breath back. Vicky could feel herself tensing up, the way she did, now, at any mention of emergency services.
She’s thirteen, they said. Her name’s Becky. We only lost sight of her for a moment and then she vanished. We’ve looked everywhere.
Tony told them Mountain Rescue were asking for locations, and they didn’t seem to have a clue. They’d been trying to get to Black Bull Rocks, they told him.
Vicky was sitting near the bar, with Graham. Black Bull Rocks was at the far eastern end of the ridge, above the visitor centre where Vicky and Graham worked. Graham caught her eye. In this weather? they were both thinking. At this time of year?
Some of the people who came here had no idea what they were doing on the hills. Vicky dealt with a fair number of them at the visitor centre: people who didn’t know how to read a map, or think to check the weather forecast. People who assumed there would be a mobile-phone signal when they got lost. At least if they called in to the centre there was a chance to set them straight. It was the ones who marched straight past they had to worry about. And she did worry, often.
Tony held the phone away from his ear and said Mountain Rescue were asking for a description, and the parents looked stumped for a minute.
She’s about this tall, the father said, holding his hand just beneath his chin. Dark-blonde hair, down to her shoulders. No glasses. She looks older than thirteen. She’s wearing a white hooded top and a navy-blue body-warmer. Black jeans and canvas shoes.
Canvas shoes.
The mother wasn’t saying anything much. She looked lost. She looked like someone who had just stood next to a loud noise and was waiting for her hearing to come back.
Tony got finished on the phone and said things would get sorted quickly now, and not to worry. Someone from Mountain Rescue would be in and wanting to take them out in the Land Rover, he said. He told them there was a back room available, so they could sit in peace. He nodded at one of the other staff to sort some drinks, asking them what they wanted.
Her name’s Becky, the mother suddenly said. Becky Shaw. Rebecca, really.
Don’t worry, Tony said, as he started leading them off. They’re good lads, Mountain Rescue. They know what they’re doing. They’ll find her.
Vicky thought he might regret saying that. She had a bad feeling already. She got these feelings. It really wasn’t Tony’s place to go offering that kind of a promise.
*
Of course, people started talking then, once Tony had the parents in the back room. The family had been staying up at the Hunters’ new barn conversions, Irene said. She remembered the girl from back in the summer. Irene did the cleaning for most of the holiday lets in the village, and she tended to pick things up as she went. She said the family were from