The cord was strong, making hard work for her arthritic hands. She whimpered as she moved the knife back and forth, slicing through the twine. It fell away.
Margaret dropped the knife to the ground.
She stared back at the house, then across the fence. Perhaps she should call her neighbour, Larry. Perhaps he could look inside the sack for her.
But she knew Larry would still be asleep.
Bile rising in her throat, Margaret closed her eyes and pulled open the neck of the sack.
She whispered a prayer, drew in another breath, then opened her eyes again.
It was dark in there. Too dark to see.
She opened the neck of the sack wider.
She stared up at the sky, at the clouds. She lowered her eyes.
What she saw inside forced a scream from her throat so shrill that the neighbours’ dogs began to bark in a frantic chorus.
The world turned red, then yellow, then white.
Margaret Telford tumbled into darkness.
26
ROSE TREWARTHA WAS a stout woman in her mid-fifties with a round, ruddy face and a smile that could light up the darkest void. She sat at Carrie’s kitchen table, soft hands clasped around a mug of tea, as Carrie glossed over the events of the past two weeks.
When she’d finished talking, Carrie felt drained and empty. She glanced through the doorway, out into the hall. The sounds of early morning cartoons drifted out from the living room. Cal had barely touched his breakfast. He seemed exhausted, as if he’d been awake all night. Sleeping under the bed couldn’t be good for his health. She had to find a way to get him onto the mattress.
Carrie returned her attention to her friend.
“Thanks for taking Melissa to school,” she said with a smile. “I should have taken her myself but I didn’t want to leave Cal alone, not yet. And I’m not sure he’s ready for all those staring faces. It’s been bad enough with the press. Thank God they’ve finally gone.”
“Don’t you worry your head about it,” Rose said, in her thick country accent. “That little bird can talk the hind legs off a donkey! Didn’t pause for breath the whole way there. Seemed glad to be back with her friends, too.”
Carrie reached a hand across the table and Rose squeezed it. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve hardly seen a soul since Cal came back. And now Dylan’s gone to sea. . .”
Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She willed them away.
Dylan had left in the early hours while it was still dark. He’d showered and dressed, then wrapped himself around her until it was time to leave. She had pretended to be asleep, even when he’d kissed her cheek and whispered goodbye.
“You’re looking tired, bird,” Rose said, her smile fading. “You’ve got a lot on your plate right now. Are you managing?”
“I’m fine,” Carrie said. “It’s a lot, but we’re working through it.”
Rose squeezed her hand again. “I know when something is wrong, Carrie Killigrew. Ever since you were a little girl, those hardened eyes could fool everyone else but me.”
Carrie felt the fight leave her body. Her shoulders sagged. She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t admit that she was failing her family.
“I forgot the sugar,” she whispered and tried to stand.
Rose held fast. She raised an eyebrow.
They were quiet for a moment longer.
Carrie let it out. “It’s Dylan. He thinks Cal could be dangerous.”
“Why would he think something like that?”
She told Rose about the incident at Dylan’s parents. About Cal’s strange habit of sleeping under the bed and his animalistic behaviour at the dinner table. As Carrie talked, Rose’s eyebrows knitted together in a concerned frown.
“Dylan didn’t want to leave today,” Carrie said. “He’s worried Cal will hurt Melissa again. Clearly, he doesn’t think I can cope on my own.”
The two women sat in quiet contemplation.
“Here’s the problem.” Rose said at last, staring at Carrie with an expression falling somewhere between concerned parent and Victorian headmistress. “Maybe you can’t cope on your own.”
Before Carrie could protest, Rose held up a hand.
“What I’m saying is, it’s a lot to take on. And you don’t have to cope on your own, no matter how much you insist on playing the martyr. You have a husband who loves you very much. And yes, he’s going to struggle at first—his family of three has become four, and through no choice of his own. But Dylan loves you. He will come through for you. You need to give him a chance. Stop building a wall around you and Cal. And Dylan’s not the only one you can rely on either. You have Gary and Joy.”
Carrie snorted. “After yesterday, I’m sure they think Cal’s some sort of freak.”
“Nonsense. What about Kye? Does he know his son is alive?”
“I’ve talked to his parents. He’s somewhere in Dubai, working. I’ve told them they’ll need to wait to see Cal. I don’t want to overwhelm him.”
Rose picked up her mug. “And your parents?”
“What about them?”
“Don’t you think they’d like to see their grandson again?”
Carrie was quiet, unhappy memories flooding her mind.
“You haven’t told them, have you?” Rose said, staring at her.
“I’m sure they’re having the time of their lives sailing around the world. I wouldn’t want to spoil it for them.”
“Nonsense!” The irritation in Rose’s voice made Carrie feel like a child. “No matter your feelings about your parents, they have a right to know their grandson is alive. And if you don’t tell them, all it’s going to take is for them to switch on the world news, or for a friend to see Cal’s face on the television and ask them all about it. And then, they’re going to wonder why their daughter hasn’t told them their grandson is alive.”
Carrie’s anger spilled from her mouth. “When I thought Cal was dead, when I believed he was never coming back to me, their response was to pack up and leave. They left me on my own to deal with the loss of my son. I have no obligation to them.”
She leaned back, her chest tight and heavy. Rose nodded. She sipped more tea. “You feel abandoned by them.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Tell me it’s none of my business, Carrie, but as a friend of your mother’s—and of the family’s—I agree your parents made some bad choices back then. But grief causes people to behave in surprising ways. It can twist perceptions. It can stop people from seeing beyond their own pain. I’m not excusing the choices they made, but don’t you think this is a chance to make things right with them?” She leaned forward. “If you don’t tell them about Cal and they find out some other way, those bridges could be burned forever.”
Both women were quiet for a moment, staring off into space. Rose was right, of course, but at the same time Carrie knew she had every right to be angry with her parents. They had abandoned her. Left her behind like an unwanted dog in a vacated house.
“You can’t keep pushing everyone away,” Rose said, her voice low and soft. “You’ve been doing it for seven years. Let people help. Let us take some of the burden. And give your family time. Melissa will come to love having a big brother. And Dylan will soon call Cal his son. But it’s only going to work if you stop treating everyone as an obstacle.”
She reached a hand across the table. Carrie took it in her own.
“You have your son back. Isn’t that a miracle?” A smile lit up Rose’s face. But as quickly as the smile had appeared, it faded. “Now, if only we could say the same for poor Tess Pengelly.”
Carrie’s body tensed. She returned her hand to her lap.
“What is it?” Rose asked.
“Tess came by demanding to talk to Cal. She’s convinced he was with Noah. That he knows where to find him.”
“And what do you think?”
“I don’t know. We won’t know anything until Cal talks.”
“He still has
n’t?”
Carrie lowered her head. “I’m starting to worry he never will. That whatever’s been done to him, it’s damaged him for good.”
A tear slipped from her eye. She let it sail down her cheek and hang off her chin.
“Perhaps it might help if he could get out and see more than these four walls,” Rose said. “Perhaps he needs to be with some people his own age. He used to be friends with Jago, didn’t he? And I know my Nat is a fearsome looking beast, especially now she’s decided to chop all that hair off, but she’s a teddy bear, really. Of course, she’d die if she heard me say such a thing.”
“I don’t know. It’s too early.”
“You can’t keep him locked up forever, Carrie. Don’t make him a prisoner of this house.”
Leaning back in her chair, Carrie gazed out into the hall. It was true that Cal was becoming more restless. Only this morning, he’d been unable to sit still and had moved back and forth from sofa to window, staring at the road outside.
“You’re afraid he’ll disappear again,” Rose said. “That you’ll lose him if you let him out of your sight.”
Another tear escaped Carrie’s eye. “I need to know what happened to him. I need him to talk so the police can catch the bastard who took him from me. I need to know I won’t wake up tomorrow to find him gone.”
“Time,” Rose said. “What you need is time.”
She patted Carrie’s hand then finished her tea.
“I best be off. I’m making pasties for supper tonight. They’re Nat’s favourite.”
“You spoil that girl,” Carrie said, drying her face.
“Well, no one else is going to,” Rose said.
Carrie stood and the women embraced.
“Thank you,” Carrie whispered.
Rose smiled. “Don’t be daft. I’ll be back later with that little scallywag of yours, if she don’t talk me to death first!”
Waving a hand, Rose said goodbye and left through the back door. Now alone, Carrie mulled over their conversation, glancing at the phone on the kitchen wall. Her mother’s mobile number was scrawled in an old address book shoved at the back of a drawer. She’d deleted it from her own mobile phone. It was childish, she knew, but it had felt good at the time.
She chewed on her lip for a minute. Was she ready to have that conversation with her parents?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Rose was right, she supposed. She would have to make the call soon or risk irreparable damage. And as much as she was still angry at her parents, the thought of losing them all together was one she didn’t want to haunt the rest of her days.
Later, she thought. I’ll do it later.
She wandered into the hall, heading for the living room.
Cal was at the window again. He turned when she entered, staring at her with dull eyes.
“How are you doing?” Carrie asked. “Want to watch something together?”
He shook his head and returned his gaze to the window. His chest heaved up and down as he expelled a long, sad breath of air.
“Something to eat, then?”
Carrie leaned against the door jamb. Her heart felt unbearably heavy. Rose’s words echoed in her mind.
“How about meeting an old friend?” she said.
Cal turned. The dullness in his eyes lit up.
Slowly, he nodded.
27
CARRIE HAD CALLED JAGO around noon, asking if he would like to see Cal. Now, he stood on her doorstep, crackling with nervous energy as he waited to be let in.
It had taken him three attempts to convince Nat she could not come along. She was curious to meet Cal, to be involved, but this afternoon was not about making friends. It was about discovering if Cal had been with Noah.
The door opened and Carrie greeted him. He had always liked Carrie. Even if she had distanced herself from his mum, he still held a fondness for her that had carried over from his childhood. And unlike most of the people in Devil’s Cove, now that he was a young man, Carrie treated him as such.
“How are you?” she asked, pausing to peer into the street as she welcomed him in.
Jago shrugged. “Fine.”
“And your mum?”
Jago thought back over the last few days. The news of Cal’s return had shattered his mother. All the worry, all the pain and grief of these last two months had finally consumed her. She’d returned home from the Killigrew house in a strange, distant daze. Since then, she’d been doped up on diazepam and shut away in her room. Jago had cooked for her but she’d barely eaten. She was giving up; he knew it with unfettered certainty. She was beginning to accept that Noah was dead.
Jago had enough hope for them both. He was going to find out what Cal knew if it killed him.
“Mum’s fine,” he said.
Carrie’s face grew serious. “Will you tell her I’m sorry about the other day? It was bad timing, that’s all.”
Jago nodded. His eyes wandered to the open living room door and a jolt of nerves shot threw his body. He could sense Cal was in there. Waiting for him.
Carrie placed a hand on his arm. He tensed.
“Do you want to go say hi to a long-lost friend?”
“Sure.”
“There’s just one thing before you do. Please, don’t ask him about where he’s been. And I know it’s tempting, but you can’t ask him about Noah, either. He’s not ready. He doesn’t even know you have a brother.” She paused. “It’s okay to talk about before though. Some old memories might help him.”
Nodding, Jago slipped his bag from his shoulder.
The curtains of the living room were half open. The television was switched on, the volume turned all the way up. Cal sat crossed-legged on the carpet half a metre away from the screen.
He didn’t look up, even when Carrie cleared her throat.
“Cal, there’s someone here to meet you.”
Cal was transfixed, images from the screen flickering in his pupils. It was only when Carrie picked up the remote control from the armchair and hit the power button that Cal glanced away from the screen and noticed Jago.
Jago stared back. It was a strange sensation, like looking into the eyes of a ghost. But that was exactly how Jago felt. Even if this ghost had grown older. He couldn’t quite recall the exact memory of when he’d last seen Cal, but it would have been just days before he’d supposedly drowned.
If their mothers hadn’t been friends, he suspected their own friendship wouldn’t have developed. But as children, thrown together during holiday times and weekends, their friendship had bloomed into something solid and trustworthy; two boys exploring caves and woodland, and digging holes in the backyard for no other reason than to make a muddy mess.
Now, Jago felt those seven missing years stretching out between him and Cal like an ocean. He looked the same, kind of. Obviously older. But there was something else about him that Jago couldn’t quite grasp. Something in his eyes that was deeply unsettling.
It didn’t feel like two old friends meeting after years apart. It felt like two strangers meeting for the first time.
“Cal, this is Jago,” Carrie said. She glanced in Jago’s direction. “The two of you were friends when you were children. Do you remember?”
Jago felt Cal’s eyes upon him. It was a strange sensation, as if Cal could see through flesh and bone. But if there was any recognition there, it didn’t show.
“Hey,” Jago nodded, lifting a hand. “Long time, no see.”
Cal continued to stare.
Carrie let out a strange noise, halfway between a sigh and apologetic laughter.
“Don’t you remember, Cal?” she pressed. “The two of you spent so much time together.”
She turned to Jago, nodding. Apparently, it was his turn to say something. He stepped closer. Cal leaned back slightly but remained seated, cross-legged on the carpet.
“Maybe this will jog your memory,” Jago said. Digging into his bag, he pulled out an old photograph album. He inched closer, showing it to C
al.
“Pictures?” Carrie asked.
“I went through Mum’s old photos after you called. Found this album. Most of the pictures are from when... From just before.” Jago stared at the album and hunched his shoulders. “I thought it might help.”
“That’s very thoughtful.” Carrie sat down on the left side of the couch and patted the space beside her. “Let’s take a look,” she said to Cal, who was still staring at Jago with his strange, dark eyes.
Slowly, he got up and sat next to his mother, wrapping his arms around his wiry frame. Jago hovered, staring at mother and son. This was not part of the plan. He had hoped they would be left alone.
“Come on,” Carrie smiled. “He won’t bite.”
Moving over to the couch, Jago perched himself on the end seat next to Cal. Opening the album, he angled it so everyone could see.
“It’s just a few pictures,” he said.
The first was of Jago and Cal, aged ten and nine, standing on the beach in wetsuits, damp hair plastered across their brows. Jago looked up to see Carrie’s face turn pale. He quickly turned the page, revealing images taken one Halloween. Jago was dressed as a werewolf. Cal as a zombie. The picture seemed ironic to Jago, considering Cal had recently come back from the dead.
Carrie startled him by laughing. “Oh, I remember this! You boys ate so many sweets you both had to take the next day off from school.”
Jago smiled, remembering. He could still feel the pain in his stomach now. Beside him, Cal stared blankly at the picture.
Jago turned the page. A heavy ache began deep in his chest as his eyes fell on one particular photograph. It was a snapshot of both the Killigrew and Pengelly families, enjoying a picnic up at Briar Wood. A young Cal sat at a picnic bench, cuddled into his mother’s side. Tess sat opposite, beaming at the camera, while Jago stood next to his father, helping him light the barbecue.
Cal stared at the picture. A line appeared at the centre of his forehead.
“Do you miss your dad?” Carrie said to Jago.
He stared at the picture of his father, uncomfortable feelings churning in his stomach.
The Cove: a shocking thriller you won't be able to put down (The Devil's Cove Book 1) Page 15
