Six a.m. Jessica’s bench. If you’re not alone, you’ll never hear from me again.
Six, perfect. I can get to the bench, find out what I need to know and then be back before Dad and the girls wake up. I swallow. This could all be a trap. Maybe whoever killed Jess is going to do the same to me. Right now, I’d do anything to know what happened to her. When I get to that bench, I’m going to be ready for them. I head to the kitchen and grab a tin of beans. It’s not much of a weapon but I will pound it over their head if they try to hurt me. I pop them in my wrap-over bag.
I slip on my clothes by the light of the moon flushing through the gap in the curtains. After, I peer through, searching for the navy-blue car but there isn’t a car like it parked up.
I have to believe that I’m finally going to find out what happened to Jess.
FORTY-EIGHT
KATE
I close the kitchen door gently, hoping that Dad or the girls didn’t hear a thing. It’s still quite dark and there’s a calmness about the place. The only movement I catch is that of a cat darting across the car park before ducking under a fence. The sea gently laps onto the beach.
I have my phone and that tin of beans in my bag. Right now, I feel stupid. A tin can is a poor weapon of choice and I wonder what was going through my head. Should I have taken a knife? No, the last thing I need is to be caught out carrying a knife. Besides, I feel as though the messenger wants to unburden themselves, that’s what I keep trying to tell myself. A nervy flutter travels through my body. I want this to be over. I can’t take much more of feeling like I’m living this close to the edge.
In the distance, I can hear the sound of boats and people jostling around. No longer is the silence of sleeping people having that haunting effect on me. This town is about to burst into life for the day. Maybe Will has a boat and is about to go to work, which is why I’m here so early. It could all be as innocent as that. As I duck through a cut, I can see the harbour. Nearly there.
Footsteps shuffle behind me and I struggle to swallow as I slowly turn my head. My heart begins to judder just as I glance back but it’s only a woman walking a dog. She waits until the terrier has finished peeing against a lamp post, then she passes me without even glancing my way. It might be dark but it’s bustling out here.
The lights on the front twinkle as the breeze catches them. A nervous sick feeling gathers in the pit of my stomach. I grab my bag, knowing that I can use it to whack someone with if I’m attacked. The bench is in sight but I stop dead.
For a moment, I’m taken back to that day; the day that Jess disappeared. My screaming voice filled the harbour as I demanded an ice cream like some spoiled brat. I could see that my mother was stressed, dealing with me, Jess, and my drunken father but for a few seconds, I wanted her attention all on me. I was sick of her tending to Jess all the time. Since my baby sister had come along, I made it hard for her as I lay on the floor, legs kicking out and arms hitting her. Later was not good enough. I wanted her to do something for me, right now. I didn’t care about Jess. I wipe the tear away that has gathered in the crease of my nose. Everyone blames my father but I blame me. I killed Jess. I carry that burden with me every day and it gets heavier and heavier. If I’d never played up for that ice cream, Jess would be alive and I wouldn’t be here in Looe, putting myself in all sorts of danger. I’d be at home, enjoying my family, my job and my grown-up sister. I wouldn’t be so obsessive over the girls. My all-consuming thoughts wouldn’t be of them being taken by strangers. They’d enjoy a more normal life of being able to have play dates and go to parties. I’d have Damien. If I could go back, I would.
Sometimes I think I’m the only one left that cares about Jess now and when she was alive, my biggest wish was that she’d never been born.
Tears now flood my face and I can’t stop them. I didn’t want Jess. This is all my fault. Maybe I secretly hoped that Jess would be taken or she’d get hurt and die. All this sadness and regret, it’s too late.Pull yourself together, Kate.All this blubbing isn’t me. It’s the hormones, it has to be and I feel so sick. I spy the bench but still no one has arrived. If I sit there, I’ll feel like a sitting duck so I’m going to wait here against the wall of the ice-cream shop, hiding out the way a little. I have to remember that someone hit me over the head in that cave and I won’t put myself out in the open.
A boat chugs away, all lit up and ready to fish. Lights bob in the water, some boats have already left. I hear a man call out to his mate to untie the boat. They soon go too.
I check my phone. There are no more messages and it’s just gone six. Will is late and right now, I doubt that he will turn up. I flick over to the Jessica page on Facebook and I stare at her delicate features and that little ladybird rattle around her wrist. When we got home, I searched for it, but I could never find it.
Several more minutes pass and as I’m about to give up, a hot bolt of pain passes through my head. I yank my bag and fling it against my attacker hoping that the tin can will hurt them but I can’t see properly and the lack of impact tells me I missed. I catch a glimpse of the back end of the car. It’s the dark-blue vehicle that has been following me. Without warning, a dark sack completely clouds my vision and I’m manhandled towards the road. I reach out, pushing and shoving but it’s no good. My head is spinning and the darkness of the sack is disorientating and the musty smell is nauseating. I can’t tell which direction I’m being dragged in. I try to grab my bag again and aim the tin at whoever has me but the strap is tangled over my shoulders. I’m thrust head first into something tinny and they have my bag. My hands are being tugged behind my back. The tender skin on my wrists burn and tear as the coarse rope is wrapped around them. I try to scream but the sound comes out muffled. I’m confused. My head; it’s like lightning has struck. The sick thrum of blood pumping bangs through my head and I can’t hear anything but that.
I’d kept safe. I’d stayed back, out of sight, watching that bench but Will had stayed one step ahead of me, like he always has done. This was his plan all along.
I’m going to die!
FORTY-NINE
NATALIE
Natalie woke to the sound of banging at the shop door. ‘Laura?’ Rolling off the settee, she grabbed her dressing gown and stepped into her slippers. Hurrying down the stairs and through the shop, she glanced through the smeared windowpane, taking in the skewered view of the harbour. Daisy’s bike was locked against one of the railings. She spotted Cody and his daughter on the boat as it pulled out, heading to sea.
Whoever was knocking had gone. She checked her watch. At half seven and barely daylight, she doubted that anyone could be that desperate for an ice cream. As soon as she reached the living room, she grabbed her phone and checked her messages. There had been so many from Kate that she’d ignored. She switched it off and threw it back onto the coffee table as she tried to shake the guilt away.
For the first time in years, she reached across to the sideboard and pulled out the two cigarettes she’d left there since packing the habit up several years ago. Popping one between her lips, she lit it and inhaled, coughing only slightly. How good it felt to have nicotine coursing through her veins once again.
She thought back to the afternoon before. In confusion, Laura had left but a few hours later, she’d returned and they’d talked further. Natalie had to protect her friend. No woman should have to relive a past like that.
Another hammering sound came from the shop door. She stubbed out the cigarette on the glass table, vowing to clean it up later, then once again she hurried downstairs. She only hoped that it wasn’t Kate. She wasn’t ready to speak to her yet, not until she had her own story straight. The shadow of a person leaning against the wall at the side of the door sent a shiver through her. She flicked the slide locks and stepped back as she opened the main door.
‘Why, Nat, why?’ Kyle stepped back, hands on head as he furrowed his brows. ‘You told my daughter that she isn’t mine. How could you do something so vindictive?’
‘I’m not being vindictive. Rachel needed to know the truth.’
‘I don’t know who you think you are, but I am Rachel’s father. That is the truth and you, you upset her and you upset me.’
‘I didn’t mean to upset her. I’m sorry, Kyle, Mary had been sleeping with my husband for years. I didn’t know, but you did. Why do you put up with it?’
