‘Wait. It’s not much but I want to wish Rachel all the best.’ She dropped the money in the jar, swigged back the whisky in one go and left enough money to cover the drink and a tip on the bar. None of this was Rachel’s fault. She didn’t even turn around when the girl said bye and thank you.
The hum of chatter became distant as she navigated the tight windy roads, finally ending up by the lifeboat centre. She gasped for breath as she hurried towards Banjo Pier. The lapping of waves normally calmed her but now, all they did was make her anxious. Everyone was getting on with their lives except her, and she hated it. She didn’t want to be alone.
She could end it all now by plunging into the cold sea. It would take minutes as she could barely swim. Everything was gone so what was the point? She stared down into the swirling inky darkness as she walked further up the pier, her balance a little off after necking the strong liquor. Warmth flooded her face although her nose was numb. Ferocious splashes of sea spray slammed against the rocks creating a flurry of light as the moon caught the crests. Edging closer to the sea she stood still, toes over the side of the pier. All she had to do was fall and it would all be over.
She shivered at what she knew about the day baby Jessica went missing, and it wasn’t just about Mary and Alan. She knew who was spotted with Jessica’s red sun hat in this exact spot. She alone had heard the conversation that let that bit of information out of the bag and maybe it was time to tell. Reading that article had brought her to tears. Jess’s parents hadn’t even mentioned the hat back then, not until it had washed up in the harbour. Again, she thought of Archie.
The burden of keeping what she knew a secret was crushing.
A gust of wind sent her heart to her mouth as she almost toppled over the side to her death. Instead she fell back onto her bottom and lay there on the wet path staring up at the stars. Her phone buzzed. Without hesitating, she snatched it up and answered. ‘Mary.’
‘I’m so sorry, Nat. Rachel went into labour and I barely have a signal at the hospital.’
‘Congratulations.’ She listened to the sound of crying babies in the background and wondered if one of them was Rachel’s. Her heart felt hollow as she thought of something pleasant to say to the woman who’d been sleeping with her husband. She’d suspected for a long time. Not having a life outside the shop has its advantages. Natalie had time to watch people, to hang around corners listening to other people speak, to follow people; to follow Mary when she thought she was meeting with Alan and vice versa. She’d heard all Cody’s phone conversations while the man set up in the mornings. Mary didn’t realise how her voice carried out of her backyard. And with Kyle being merry all the time, he talked too loud. Natalie never had to be that close to hear everything. The burden she was carrying was weighing her down and the only way she’d be able to breathe again was to talk. A person can’t live with these kind of secrets, or they’ll eventually explode.
‘Nat? Are you okay?’
She had slurred a little. As someone who never really drank, that whisky had gone straight to her head. ‘I know things.’
‘You know what?’ Mary paused.
‘I know this town’s dirty little secret, Mary, and it’s not just your affair with my dead husband. This is big but you all know that. Everyone knows. I can tell by the way you give each other those knowing looks. Archie, he knows, doesn’t he?’
‘Nat, what are you talking about?’
‘Nothing.’ She ended the call. She would show them all but to do that she’d need to book a visit with Archie at his residential home. Reaching out, she let her fingers sink into a puddle. She wept for Jessica, for herself and for all the time she’d wasted on her cheating husband.
EIGHT
KATE
Saturday, 15 October
Five days have passed and I haven’t had any more messages from Will. I shouldn’t have sent him a load of messages but since visiting my dad and looking through those photos, I feel spurred on to find out more. Several times I’ve checked and quite often I see the three dots come up. Someone is at the other end reading all the replies that I’ve sent. Maybe I’ve scared him off.
Please if you know something about my little sister, I need to know.
Will, you want to tell me what you know or you wouldn’t have messaged me. Jessica needs to be laid to rest. My family and I need closure.
Will, do you have children? Do you have grandchildren? Imagine if one day, one of them vanished and you never heard from them again. Imagine the heartache and the hurt. Nothing hurts more than losing a child whether that child is your sister, your baby, your grandchild.
Will, if you need to tell me something in confidence, you can? We don’t have to meet. I can give you my email address or my phone number. Whatever it is you need, you can have it.
Please, Will, please. I can’t bear that you’re not replying. I can see that you want to say something. You keep going to reply, then you don’t. You know how Jessica really died and you want to tell me, I know you do.
Will, who are you?
Talk to me, Will.
This is killing me. I beg of you, please tell me what happened.
I hit send on another message.
Did you hurt her, Will? If you did something by accident, I’m sure you didn’t mean it. The police don’t need to be involved.
I glance over all my messages to Will. Not one reply. I sound desperate because I am desperate. The more I tell myself it’s a hoax, the more I disbelieve it. If the sender was some joker getting off on my misery, I think they’d be long gone. The little dots wouldn’t keep coming up. To me, that says whoever is at the other end of this profile wants to talk but is finding it hard. I might even be talking to the person who killed Jessica. Maybe as someone passed they accidentally knocked her in. Either way, what I really need is the truth now. I’m prepared to communicate with a potential murderer to find out what happened.I know what happened to your sister.Those words don’t leave my head. I stare at the ceiling in the middle of the night, in the dark, wondering who sent them. Just as I’m about to close Facebook, I see those three dots again and the words I’ve longed to see. Will is typing. As I wait, I find I’m twiddling the gold bracelet with the word Mum engraved on it, the one the girls got me for my last birthday.
A message flashes up.
