For one morning only, Malachi followed orders, biting his tongue to keep his complaining or usual sarcasm at bay,for fear that opening his mouth might open the door to conversation. It was safer to keep his head down and focus, rather than risk making eye contact with Dad, who had hovered by his side all morning.
Malachi moved as though every limb had been weighted. Even lifting stock onto the shelves sent a dull ache pulsing through his arms. He didn’t have the energy to argue with Nomi, or deal with Dad’s attempts at eye contact. His body still hadn’t recovered from the night before. He’d jolted awake before sunrise, drenched in sweat, heart pounding so hard he thought he’d crack a rib. The taste of river water clung to the back of his throat long after he’d stopped shaking.
Fresh air and space were all he wanted. Every summer the nightmares returned, and so did the blue eyes—hovering beneath the surface of his thoughts like they were waiting for him to slip. At this stage he couldn’t tell if the eyes belonged to something real or if they were a figment of his imagination, created to ease his guilt. To shift the blame away from him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth.
“That’s us now,” Nomi sang, taking a loud slurp of coffee. She made a great show of ticking off the final item on her list before sliding the pen back into her precious clipboard.
Malachi’s untouched, cold mug of tea sat neglected on the counter.
“Archie, take that unopened box out to the storeroom.” Nomi waved her clipboard at it. “We can put the last of summer stock out towards the end of next week.”
Dad scowled, muttering something under his breath, apparently just as keen to follow Nomi’s orders.
“Chop, chop,” Malachi mouthed, ignoring the look Dadshot him while backing towards the storeroom. Dad had more pressing problems, judging by the bulge in the bottom of the box he was struggling to carry.
“I’ll see you later.” Malachi’s stomach grumbled. He’d missed breakfast and it was almost lunchtime. “I’m away over toLucky Crumbs.”
“Wait!” Dad barrelled out of the storeroom, knocking a stack of boxes to the floor. Nomi tutted and went to inspect the damage. The phone rang, and she marched into her office, shutting the door behind her.
“Ally’s waiting for me.” Malachi headed towards the door without breaking stride. Aloysius Curran was his best friend, and his parents ownedLucky Crumbs, the best café in Latharna.
“Come home with me, and I’ll make us breakfast instead.” Dad hurried after him and caught him by the elbow.
Malachi stopped in his tracks, shrugging off the grip. Breakfast atLucky Crumbswas more appealing than Dad’s undercooked bacon and hard yolks. Even Dad knew that, he’d admitted it often enough.
“I think I’ll just…” Malachi waved half-heatedly towards the café, hoping Dad would take the hint. Right now, he needed space from Riverside. Ally and a massive breakfast were the distraction he needed.
“Actually,” Nomi piped up from the storeroom doorway.
Malachi jumped. She had a habit of materialising behind them as though she expected to catch the Wolfendens doing something they shouldn’t in their own shop.
“Bridget has just called in sick, so I need someone to cover her shift.”
“I’ll do it.” The word shot out like they’d tripped over Malachi’s tongue. He grimaced. Brilliant. Nomi would use that against him in the future.
“Perfect. Problem solved.” She ticked another item off her list. “Can you move the plastic bucket display away from the door? Dale made a right mess of it last night, even though I told him to place them closer to the till.” She sighed as though this were one of life’s greater tragedies. “Archie, will you speak to Dale again about his inability to follow simple instructions?”
Dad’s eyes glazed over. It was unlikely he’d heard a word. Ever since Rhys died, he’d shown little interest in the day-to-day running of the business, and never challenged Nomi’s decisions for fear he’d be expected to make one himself. But he nodded anyway, slowly, as though to make sure he was answering correctly.
“Thank you.” Nomi reached behind the till for her handbag. “I’ve a dentist appointment, but I will be back after lunch to help Dale with the afternoon rush.”
Malachi busied himself with a fishing net. Dad’s eyes were still fixed on him.
“I’ll pick you up later and take you toLucky Crumbsfor a late lunch. We can catch up.” Dad grinned, all teeth and no warmth—the smile of someone performing a duty rather than wanting to be there.
“Sure, I’ll see you when I get home.” Malachi edged back towards the door to open it for Nomi, hoping Dad would follow her out and drop the idea of lunch entirely. “Thank you, though.”
Dad usually avoided him around Rhys’ anniversary. His sudden desire to catch up and talk was out of character. He never talked about Rhys, even though he’d been the apple of his eye.
Malachi’s stomach twisted and it wasn’t from hunger. If Dad ever learned the truth about what happened on the river, he would never forgive him. Malachi always said he couldn’t remember what happened that afternoon—it was easier than trying to explain what he thought he’d seen. If he started talking about seaweed-covered monsters, Dad would think he was mad, and send him back to therapy.
“Actually, Archie, if you’ve no plans, could you give me a lift?” Nomi checked her watch. “I’ve left my car at the garage, but it won’t be ready until later.”
“Nomi, I—" Dad spluttered, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, and Nomi was bearing down on him at full speed.
“Excellent, thank you.” She took his unfinished mutter as a firm yes.
Malachi’s shoulders relaxed. A bullet dodged. Thank you, Nomi.
