But Klaus was alive. He had to be. There are no such things as—
He was afraid as he neared the pitch black loch. The trees were eerie, waving, silhouettes against the sky. Afraid of what he might find here.
For the first time, afraid of Klaus.
Col stood for a moment at the lochside. He was wet through, shivering with fear and cold, straining his eyes to see.
Suddenly, another flash of lightning illumined the whole landscape – and Col gasped.
There was Klaus, standing only a few feet away from him, watching him, waiting for him. Paler than ever, almost transparent.
Col knew his worst nightmare was true. There was no other illegal immigrant. The body weighted down in the water was Klaus. He had been dead since the first time they’d met. Unimaginable as it was, it was true.
‘I’ve been waiting for you, Col. I knew you’d come.’ Even Klaus’s voice seemed to drift, ghost-like in the wind.
Col wanted to cry, his voice was a sob. ‘I don’t believe this. I don’t understand.’
‘Believe it, Col,’ Klaus’s voice was so soft, yet Col heard it perfectly above the storm. ‘I don’t understand either. But I’m here. A force more powerful than death has held me here so that you can help me. Tell them who I am. Tell them to send me home to my family.’
And now he knew why, that night in the shelter, Klaus had told him so much about his village, about his family. He was leading up to this moment.
Col screamed. ‘I can’t tell them about you! They’d find out it was my brother who did this. What does it matter now?’
‘It matters to me, Col. Help me. I want to go home to my mother and my sisters.’ Now, Klaus was crying softly. So sad, so lonely. ‘I don’t want to lie in the dark waters of the loch for ever.’
‘I can’t do it, Klaus. Don’t ask me. Please, don’t ask me.’
‘I can’t hold on much longer.’ Col could see how true that was. Death, cheated for so long, was pulling him closer. ‘You are my only hope. Help me, Col. Help me.’
‘NO!’
Col stumbled back, began to run, away from the loch. He took one last backward look at Klaus, hardly visible, hardly there, still calling after him.
‘Help me …’
Col ran on, splashing through puddles, flooded gutters, through rivers gushing down the streets. His mind caught in as much of a storm as his body.
To help Klaus would be the end of Mungo. He’d be arrested, jailed. Mungo, who hated to be shut up. He couldn’t do that to his own brother. It was against everything he believed in.
Yet, how could they prove it was Mungo who had killed Klaus? They couldn’t. Could they?
But what if they did?
It was too much of a risk to take.
He had run without thinking and here he was on the street where the Sampsons lived. He hadn’t realised he had been heading this way, but he knew why he was here.
He trusted them. They’d know what to do.
He banged madly on their door, oblivious to the storm. A light came on upstairs. Col shouted, ‘Mr Sampson. It’s me, Col. Please let me in.’
A moment later light flooded the hall and the front door was hauled open.
‘Col! What have you been doing?’ Mr Sampson pulled Col out of the driving rain and into the warm welcoming house. Even in the storm, there was a warmth that enveloped this house.
Mrs Sampson was there too, trying to get Col’s wet jacket off, but he struggled against her.
How could he explain this to them? What could he say? They’d never believe him. He still hardly believed it himself. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ was all he could manage to say.
‘Come to the fire. Tell us about it.’
But he couldn’t move, shivering and dripping on to the scratched and defaced wood of their floor.
‘I’ll believe you,’ Mrs Sampson said, and Col thought that of all of them she was the one who probably would. She had sensed Klaus at the hospital, thought she saw him at the hotel.
He clutched at her hand. ‘I’m so mixed up. I don’t want to hurt anybody. I don’t know what’s the right thing to do.’
She touched his face. ‘You’ll always do the right thing, Col.’
‘Tell me about it, Col. Let me help.’ Mr Sampson’s voice was full of concern.
Maybe, Col thought in a flash of inspiration as bright as the lightning, he could tell Mr Sampson about the body in the loch. Tell him he had thought it was a dream. But it wasn’t. It was a locked up memory that had been too horrible to face. Things like that happened, didn’t they? Mr Sampson would know how to explain it – Col wouldn’t be involved then, Mungo couldn’t blame him, and Klaus would go home.