Vic was unusually terse on the way to my parents’ house for lunch, barely responding to Hayley’s stream of chatter. ‘I wish we could go straight home,’ he said, when I asked him what was wrong. ‘I don’t feel like being sociable right now, and I’m surprised you want to go there after that scene with your brother.’
‘They’ll worry if I don’t.’
He sighed, and I wondered whether he was thinking: Is this how it’s always going to be? Maybe he was hankering after the quiet life he’d had before he met me.
Once at my parents’, he responded in monosyllables to Dad’s questions about his work. Dad was fascinated by Vic’s job, a bit in awe of it too. I knew for a fact he looked online for news of developments in eye surgery techniques and was always impressed when Vic talked about them.
Today, as we sat in a shady area of the patio to eat the picnic-style lunch Mum had prepared, his query about an advance in cataract treatment fell flat. It was obvious Vic was distracted, despite his polite responses. I found myself making up for it by being extra chatty about the art exhibition, but noticed Mum seemed on edge, hardly touching her plate of food. I guessed she was holding back from asking what my visit with Jamie had been about because Vic was there, and she didn’t want to cause a scene.
She perked up when Hayley asked, ‘Can I please have a go at your sewing machine, Grandma? You said I could, if I was a good girl?’
‘Of course you can, sweetie.’ Some of the tension drained from her face. ‘Dessert first, though.’
After we’d eaten a summer fruit pudding, they disappeared inside. When I took our empty bowls into the kitchen, leaving Dad and Vic pondering the likelihood of heavy traffic on the way to Cornwall the following morning, I smiled to see Hayley on my mother’s lap. Mum was gently guiding her hands as they stitched, just as she’d done with me years ago – though the machine she’d had back then had been older, clunkier, and I hadn’t the patience to sit still for long.
‘Look, I’m making an Elsa dress.’ Hayley beamed at me. She was obsessed with Frozen. I admired the bunch of shiny material, my heart dropping as it sank in how much I was going miss her over the next few days.
When she’d got bored of sewing and headed back into the garden to play swing-ball with Dad – he was spectacularly bad at hitting the ball, which made her bubble over with laughter – Mum took me aside under the pretext of fetching more cold drinks.
‘Why were you so angry with your brother?’ she said, as though I was six years old. ‘Why on earth would you think he wants you dead?’
‘Oh, Mum, it was …’ I tried to frame something believable. ‘I got a prank message on my phone that wasn’t very nice and thought it was from him,’ I said. ‘You know what he’s like.’
‘Yes, I do, and you really upset him.’ Her cheeks had gone blotchy. ‘He’s extremely sensitive where you’re concerned, and could do without you accusing him of things he hasn’t done.’
This was new: Mum sticking up for Jamie. With a flash of insight, I saw how it must have been for her and Dad – to go from being ordinary, caring parents with two children who loved each other, to the fractured family we’d become after my accident, the focus shifting automatically to the daughter who’d almost died.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, close to tears. ‘Did he say anything?’
She shook her head, her hair swinging, grey showing at the roots. ‘He stormed out after you’d gone, didn’t even take the bike.’ Her eyes were filled with reproach – an expression I’d never seen directed at me before; the sort of look she’d aim at Jamie whenever he’d prodded at me wanting a reaction, even if it was the wrong one.
‘He’ll be back,’ I said, wanting to wipe the look off her face. ‘Don’t worry, Mum.’
She nodded, scooping some crumbs off the worktop into her hand, which she dropped into the bin. ‘You know you don’t have to go tomorrow, don’t you?’
It took me a second to grasp the change of subject, decipher the anxious groove between her eyebrows.
‘I want to go. I’ll be fine.’ It was hot in the kitchen. I went to the sink and turned the cold tap on, holding my wrists under the stream of water. ‘I’ve told you, Mum, this is the year things change,’ I said. ‘I want to get over being scared of the sea. Or at least put it into perspective.’
Enjoy your birthday, Beth. It’ll be your last.
‘And you’re sure you can’t do that in, say, Brighton. Or Scarborough?’ Her tone was unusually combative. ‘It has to be Perran Cove?’
‘I could probably cope with the sea just about anywhere else,’ I said. ‘From a distance at least.’ I turned off the tap and dried my hands on a tea towel. My senses felt sharper, as if the cold water had entered my bloodstream. ‘It’s Perran Cove that still haunts me, gives me nightmares.’
‘All the more reason not to go there.’
‘Going back is the only way to stop them for good – I’m sure of that now.’
‘But look how you were when we went to St Ives that time, when the counsellor suggested we all go together,’ she persisted. ‘We didn’t get further than the harbour and had to come back.’
‘That was a long time ago.’ I suppressed a shiver. ‘After that, I thought returning there might make things worse.’
‘What if it does?’
‘It can’t do,’ I said. Why were we having this conversation now? ‘It can’t possibly make anything worse,’ I said with more conviction. ‘It’s the right thing to do.’
‘Because Vic suggested it.’
The weighty feeling tightened in my stomach. ‘Please, Mum. I don’t need this, not today.’
She fired me a despairing look and emitted a sigh. ‘Well, you know how I feel about it.’
‘Everything all right?’
We turned to see Vic in the doorway, empty glasses in his hands. ‘Came for a refill,’ he said, looking between us. ‘It’s thirsty work, playing swing-ball. Your dad’s having a lie-down on the grass.’
Mum inhaled, as if ready to speak, then seemed to think better of it. Her lips formed a smile that didn’t crease her eyes. ‘Coming up,’ she said. ‘We were just talking about your trip tomorrow, hoping there won’t be too much traffic on the road.’
She busied herself with clean glasses and a bottle of sparkling elderflower juice.
I met Vic’s gaze, and knew he’d heard every word.
*
Back home, when Hayley was up in her room and we’d wandered into the kitchen, he said, ‘You know, Hayley was fine in the pool. I could see her the whole time.’
I paused, about to spoon coffee into mugs, and turned to look at him. ‘Funny, because you were talking to Pam when I looked.’
‘She was talking to me actually, but I was still looking out and nothing happened until you suddenly went charging through the water.’
So, this was what had been troubling him all afternoon. ‘Imagine if Hayley or another child had been in trouble,’ I said, irritated. ‘At least I did something.’
I thought he might comment on that, even tell me he was proud of me, but instead he looked harassed. ‘Hayley will pick up on your fears if you’re not careful. You’d be better off not going to the pool at all.’
‘We’ll be better off if you don’t come with us next time.’ I switched the kettle off. ‘I can’t believe you’re having a go at me about it.’
‘I’m not having a go, Beth, I just …’ He paused, massaging his forehead with his fingers. ‘I know things have been weird lately, but there’s no point looking for danger where there isn’t any.’
I stared at him, suddenly cold. ‘Do you even believe that someone’s threatening me?’ Before he could reply, I continued, ‘I know none of it adds up to much, just a … a note on my car, a leaflet, that stupid inflatable someone put on the doorstep, but if you’d seen the message I got on my birthday, you’d be taking this a lot more seriously.’
‘You think I’m not taking you seriously?’ He sounded hacked off. ‘I’m taking it very seriously, Beth, but it’s hard to know what else I can do, except wait for this … this unknown person or persons – whoever they are – to come for you, or whatever it is they’re planning. It’s hard for me too.’
‘Well, don’t feel obliged to hang around,’ I bit back. ‘Leave whenever you like, I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, at least you’ll know you did your bit to help.’ I picked up my keys and thrust them at him. ‘You gave me an alarm that’s probably next to useless.’
‘Oh, Beth.’ He reached for me then and I wept on his shoulder, soaking his shirt, but things were strained between us for the rest of the evening. I was glad in the end to escape his company and help Hayley pack for her trip, trying not to think about being without her, playing along with her excitement, and when Vic came up to bed, I pretended to be asleep.