This video was discovered in Pilgrims Cave, near Lud’s Church in the Peak District.
BEN ELMYS
Remember the day at Longhaven, Harri? When those two social workers came to check on Elliot? We walked up to the ridge. It was windy. I tried to find patterns in the gorse. Isn’t that so much of life? The search for meaning in the meaningless? But do you know what I’ve realized after all these years? Life is just what happens. There is no divine plan, no script, no moral in the tale. Just a sequence of events that binds each of us to a story without purpose. The cosmic storyteller sets our path, but there is no point to it. We are the universe experiencing itself, reflecting on itself. We are existence. Still we look for meaning, determined to make sense of it all. I didn’t find patterns in the gorse that day, but I did discover one in your eyes.
I remember them, so hostile and angry, as though I was responsible for all the wrong in your life. I know I hurt you, but I had no choice. You’ll understand soon. You’ll understand. Beyond the anger I saw that day, there was beauty and the promise of the kindness that might one day be mine. I wanted you to see it in me, but your zeal for what you perceived to be the truth had blinded you.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ I asked as we walked side by side.
You were so suspicious. Rightly so, perhaps. I can only imagine how your opinion of me had altered since we first met.
‘You seem remarkably calm about all this,’ you said.
‘Because I’ve got nothing to hide, Harri.’
‘Don’t call me that.’
You were quite angry I’d used your name. Then you asked me an interesting question.
‘What’s the greater good?’ you said. ‘What do you have planned for the boy?’
I have a feeling you thought you’d trapped me.
‘I heard the recording. The one you play to Elliot,’ you added.
You wouldn’t let it drop. You kept at it.
‘What’s the greater good?’ you insisted. And when I didn’t answer, ‘OK. What sacrifice is Elliot going to make?’
I’ve had a lot of time to think about that day, to ask myself whether I should have told you everything then, held you close and kissed you. I still think about the time we spent together when we might have been lovers. I felt the promise of the world on your lips.
What would you have done if I’d taken you in my arms that day? I know you loved me when we first met. I could feel desire radiating from you. But by then, by the time you broke into my home, I wasn’t so sure. Had the love gone? I saw fear and suspicion in your eyes.
I couldn’t summon the courage. Remember that, Elliot. Remember how cowardly I was.
‘Do you think there’s one person out there for each of us?’ I asked you.
Do you recall that question, Harri?
‘Or do you think we can be happy with anyone who’s a rough fit?’ I went on. ‘Are we fated to be unhappy unless we find perfection?’
‘What’s the point of us talking if you’re not going to answer my questions?’ was the reply you snapped back. You were testy. ‘What are you going to forgive me for?’ you asked. ‘Whatever happens, I forgive you. That’s what you said. Well, what do you think you’ll have to forgive me for?’
You know now, of course.
Do you remember what I said?
I told you, ‘We all have to do things we’re not proud of. Things that will hurt others.’
‘What are you not proud of?’ you asked me.
‘Is this where I confess and you crack the case?’ I replied. I might have done if you’d pressed me, but you didn’t, so I carried on with the veneer that has defined so much of my life. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. Things aren’t always what they seem. You of all people should know that. Involuntary manslaughter, wasn’t it?’
It was as though I’d touched you with a red-hot poker. Do you remember you stopped and grabbed me?
‘I never hurt that suspect,’ you were almost snarling.
‘And yet here you are,’ I replied. ‘Kicked out of the police, working alone.’
‘Whatever you think you know about me, I’m not the one being investigated for murder,’ you said.
You took a half-step back. I think you realized you’d said too much.
‘So that’s what the police are doing?’ I scoffed. I knew, of course. ‘Good luck. You’re all wasting your time.’
Do you understand now why I said that?
‘You never answered the question. Do you think we could ever love each other? Under different circumstances?’ I asked.
And do you remember what you said?
‘There are no different circumstances. Things are how they are. The crazed genius act might work on other people, but it won’t wash with me.’
I remember smiling, beaming like a fool. It was such a sparky answer.
‘You hurt me, Ben,’ you said. ‘You hurt me more than you can ever know.’
‘I know exactly how much I hurt you,’ I replied. ‘And how much I hurt myself too, but I had no choice.’
‘Why do you keep saying that?’ you asked.
‘Because it’s the truth,’ I replied.
I took your hands at that point, didn’t I? You were horrified, but I felt complete. I knew then that we were meant to be together, but you weren’t sure whether you were being held by a murderer. Perhaps you were. I’m still not sure what I am. But for me, that was a moment I’ll never forget.
In you, I’d found everything I’d ever need.
‘Things aren’t always what they seem, are they? You say you were innocent. Perhaps I am. Whatever happens, know that I only want happiness for you,’ I said.
You pulled your hands free, and backed away.
‘Don’t ever touch me again.’
You almost spat the words. You were so angry. Do you remember? I think you were afraid. Maybe you did still love me?
And what did I say? I told you, ‘I can’t make that promise. I can’t promise never to touch you again.’
And you hated me for saying that. I could see it in your eyes. They burned bright with indignation at what you thought was a threat, but which was simply a statement of truth. I couldn’t imagine never touching you again.
‘Get away from me,’ you said.
‘Mr Elmys,’ Sabih Khan shouted.
DS Khan, I mean. Poor man. Poor, poor man. Know that not a moment passes when I don’t regret what happened.
‘They want you back,’ DS Khan yelled up from the cottage.
Do you remember what I said to you before I left?
‘I think we would. I think if we’d met somewhere else, in another time, another place, I think we would love each other.’
Your eyes told me that the first time we met, your lips told me that when we kissed, and you should know that I felt it too. I still do. It was as though I’d wounded you with those words. You deflated and for a moment all your indignation seemed to dissipate.
‘So why did you end it?’ you asked.
‘It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,’ I replied. ‘But it had to be that way. There’s no point dwelling on the past. I only hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.’