by Thom Collins
“Why aren’t you in the crew?” AJ asked, with a fair whiff of judgement.
“I don’t have the sea legs for it. Besides, you have to live here all the time if you want to be in the crew. You need to be ready to launch the boat as soon as they raise the alarm. I could hardly do that from London, could I?”
“I guess not,” AJ said grudgingly. “It would take way too long.” He seemed to give this some more thought before asking, “Why don’t we live here? Gran and Grandad are here. And Conner and Indina. Why can’t we live with them?”
Arnie looked at him thoughtfully. “Would you like that?”
“Of course. It’s so much better than London.”
“Really? What do you like so much?”
“I already told you. Everyone’s here, except us. And we don’t have a beach in London, or a lifeboat, or a dog.”
It surprised him to hear AJ talk like this. The boy had always enjoyed their visits to Nyemouth but had never expressed a longing to live here. “You’d have to change schools,” he pointed out.
“That’s all right. Conner says I could go to school with him.”
So that was it. The sleepover with his cousins has put this idea in his head. Arnie could imagine all three of them, sitting up later than they were allowed, whispering in the dark about the things they would do together.
“It’s not that simple, son,” he said. “We can’t move as easily as that.”
“Why not? I could go to school with Conner and you could join the lifeboat crew.”
He laughed. “I can’t join just like that. It takes a lot of training.”
“Dominic will show you what to do. He knows everything.”
Arnie looked at his son. Was there a hidden intention behind that statement? Or was it as innocent as it appeared? Had the little tykes discussed him during their sleepover? After AJ’s earlier comments about him getting a boyfriend, he wouldn’t put anything past him. The boy was wiser than he gave him credit for, and growing up fast.
And just as he was thinking his son was older than his years, AJ said, “Noel saw a shark off the point last summer. He told me this afternoon.”
“He did, did he?”
AJ nodded vigorously and gazed out to sea, hopefully searching for a huge beast. “He said if you keep your eyes on the sea, you never know what might be out there. We might see a Meg, like in the movie.”
“I don’t know about that, but he’s right about the sea. You can see all sorts of things in the water.”
“How far to the smugglers’ caves?”
“I told you there aren’t any.” They had reached a point where the sandstone rocks jutted out from the base of the cliffs. They had to walk farther down the beach, closer to the water, to maneuver around them. “I think we should turn back now. It’s getting colder.”
He hadn’t been keeping an eye on the tide either. Was it on the way out or coming in?
“Let’s go a bit farther. Until we find the first cave. Please.”
“Five more minutes, then we’re going home. Cave or no cave, okay?”
Arnie’s phone sounded an alert as they walked around the rocks. A news update. He’d set it to notify him whenever there was fresh info on Sandy Costello. He tapped straight to the website of the local newspaper. North Point Victim Comes Out of Coma, read the top story, Sandy Costello Awake.
“Thank God.” Arnie exhaled relief and scrolled through the page to read further. According to the site, Sandy had pulled around sometime on Friday afternoon. They had moved her out of the intensive care unit to a specialist spinal injury ward. Her troubles were far from over, but she was conscious. Her situation sounded so much better than it had before, though there was little information. He went to another site, but the details were much the same. If she was out of intensive care, that had to mean she was stable. Was she talking? Could she remember what happened?
Could she identify her attacker?
Not likely, he guessed, considering the speed with which it had happened. And with the disguise her assailant had worn, it would have to be someone she knew intimately well for her to recognize them.
Arnie had to meet her. Not today. It was far too soon, but he’d contact the hospital when they got home, find out when they expected her to be well enough to receive visitors. Though they didn’t know each other, they had a connection now, something that would likely bond them for the rest of their lives.
A short wave lapped across Arnie’s feet. It startled him and brought him back to the moment. He watched the white foam retreat down the beach, before another came rushing forward. He stepped quickly out of the way.
That answered his earlier query.
The tide was coming in.
“AJ, it’s time to go.”
Looking up, he saw the boy had wandered ahead, darting in and out of the rock face in search of the mythical caves.
“Hey, AJ,” he called. “The tide is on the turn. We have to go back.”
“I think we’re nearly there,” his son called. “It can’t be much farther.”
“We have to go now,” he said with authority. “Come on, let’s go.”
Another wave washed up to his feet, and he took a bigger a step backward. He’d forgotten how fast the tides turned up here in the point.
“Come on now,” he shouted, anger creeping into his voice. He shouldn’t take it out on the boy. It was his fault they’d come this way without checking the tides, but there was no time to mess about. They had to turn straight back before the route to the town was blocked by the sea.
AJ trudged reluctantly toward him, his bottom lip sticking out. “It’s not fair.”
“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Arnie said kindly. “Nice and early, so we have plenty of time. Okay? The tide is against us today.”
Suddenly AJ looked up, surprised, gazing at something over Arnie’s shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” AJ asked.
“Huh?”
Arnie turned to see who he was taking to. Before he could complete the maneuver, he was struck hard on the back of the head by a blunt object. The impact was sickening, as reverberations juddered through his skull. Blunt pain became blinding. What just happened?
Something hit him a second time in almost the same place as before. Colors and lights exploded before his eyes, which quickly dimmed to darkness.
“Dad,” AJ screamed as he watched his father fall to the sand unconscious. As he rushed forward to help, the figure dressed entirely in black raised the rock threateningly toward him. AJ shrank against the raggedy cliff-face.
“Stay where you are, kid, or you’re next.”
Tears sprang into the boy’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
Noel Garrard, who he had last seen in the lifeboat station less than an hour ago, glared menacingly. When he had appeared just a moment ago, AJ had thought he’d come to show him the way to the smuggler’s caves. His face looked so different from the friendly boy who’d shown him around the boat and told him about the shark he’d seen off the point last summer. That Noel had been cool, with his knowledge of the sea and its creatures. This Noel was horrible. His features were twisted and ugly, and he looked old and cruel as his lips drew back from his teeth in a sneer. He reminded AJ of the nasty dog that barked at all the kids when they passed its house, on the way to school. The dog would stick his head through the gate, looking for an opportunity to savage any passerby.
There was a huge rock in Noel’s hand—it filled his entire fist. The rock he’d smashed over Arnie’s head. Taking him from behind and striking without warning. There were red streaks on the jagged sandstone. Blood.
Dad’s blood.
Noel bent and picked up Arnie’s phone, which he’d dropped as he fell. He glanced briefly at the screen, then back to AJ, before smiling and casting the phone into the sea. AJ watched it tumble through the air before disappearing into the waves.
Noel looked at AJ and raised the rock threateningly. With tears pouring down his face, AJ flinched and drop
ped to his haunches.
“Please don’t,” he cried.
Noel laughed, a mocking sound, and lunged at him again. AJ screamed and leaped out of his reach.
“Stop it.”
With a sneer, Noel stepped away. He tossed the rock at Arnie, striking a blow between his shoulders. Arnie was out of it and didn’t respond.
“See you, kid.” Noel’s voice and face were full of scorn. “There’s no fun in smashing both your brains in. I’ll let the sea do the rest of the dirty work.”
With a final laugh, Noel spun around and ran, pelting through water that came up to his knees to make it back to the beach.
Terrified but aware of the danger they were in, AJ hurried to his father. Arnie lay facedown on the sand. Before AJ could shake him for a response, a large wave rushed over him, covering Arnie completely for one awful moment before retreating.
It was the coldest thing AJ had ever experienced.
“Dad,” he shouted, shaking his shoulder. “Dad, please wake up. Please.”
Arnie was unresponsive.
Another wave washed over him, smaller than the first but just as scary.
The tide was coming in.
Looking in the direction Noel had run, he saw the route back to the main beach was already cut off. In a few more minutes, the spot where he stood would also be underwater.
Cold, wet and with a deepening sense of despair, AJ tried to wake his unconscious father.
Chapter Eighteen
Noel Garrard raced across the path to the peak of North Point, a steep ascent over uneven ground. By the time he reached the top, his breath rasped so hard his throat was sore. He had to calm down—he didn’t want anyone to see him and pay attention to his unusual behavior. No chance of that, he thought, looking around. The point was deserted. The wind was stronger here than it had been on the beach. Colder and more biting. The conditions were worsening quickly and there were no tourists or locals about.
His pushed onward. He didn’t want to miss the moment the tide came rushing in to carry away the shitty kid and his faggot dad. It may already be too late. He’d only made it to the safety of the beach himself when the sea cut off the route behind. Another minute and he would have been floundering down there with them.
Except you’re not. He giggled. The look on the kid’s face had been priceless. The utter disbelief and fear he’d shown when threatened with the rock. It was almost as good as the look in that stupid bitch’s eyes when he’d thrown her over the edge a couple of weeks back. Nothing could top that—the split second when comprehension had dawned on her, when she’d realized what he was doing.
Would he ever experience anything as good as that again? It seemed unlikely.
Still, this was better than nothing.
He remembered the impact of the rock as it hit Arnie Walker’s skull, the way it had jarred his wrist and resounded through every part of Noel’s body. Instant hard-on. He was no fag, not like Walker, but something about violence aroused Noel far more than any sexual experience.
The power of taking a life. Of becoming God.
That was the best.
Noel hurried along the point, passing the house where Arnie and the boy had been staying, making sure he kept well out of the range of their CCTV cameras. It wouldn’t do to get caught on film at the exact moment the tenants were washed out to sea. Once they realized the kid and his dad were missing, someone was bound to check every frame of footage, looking for a clue to their disappearance. Noel Garrard wouldn’t be snared so easily.
No, they would never catch him.
Noel was too clever for that. Too wily and smart.
He reached the area where he knew he’d find them and approached the cliff edge with caution. He got on his hands and knees, inching forward through the grass and mud, until he could look right over. The tide had claimed the sandy beach. Ferocious waves battered the rocks, throwing huge white spumes into the air. He was too late. The sea must have taken them already. Fuck.
He scanned the heaving waves for a sign of them. A head bobbing above the water. A corpse lying facedown in the surf. Nothing.
Then he saw movement, directly below. On the rocks. Noel leaned farther over for a better look.
The clever little cunt.
They were directly beneath him. Somehow the boy had dragged his father above the tide line. For now, at least. The waves were coming closer and soon the spot where they lay would be under water. How the hell had he done it? How had a puny kid managed to the shift the weight of a large, unconscious man and drag him to temporary safety? Arnie Walker must be a solid weight at the best of times, let alone when he was wet and out for the count.
The kid had him on his back and looked like he was trying to revive him, shaking his shoulders and crying.
The resentment was crippling. They should have been carried away on the tide by now. Noel gnashed his teeth together, his breath rasping with frustration. What if the man came around?
It won’t do them any good, he told himself. He’d thrown Arnie’s phone into the sea. They had no means of raising the alarm. And no one would hear their cries. The winds were too strong, and with a storm forecast for tonight, the fishing fleet had returned early. There was no chance of an offshore vessel spotting them and radioing the Coastguard for help.
Calm down. It won’t be long. They’ll be dead soon. And you’ll see it. At last, you’ll see.
As he watched, a big wave broke over the rocks, drenching the boy and his father. Not powerful enough to wash them off. Not yet.
The swell deepened and the force of the waves grew stronger with every second.
Noel settled down to watch the proceedings. Things hadn’t gone exactly to plan so far. But surely it was better this way. The boy’s terror must be off the scale by now, knowing he was about to die and there was no one, not even his daddy, who could save him.
Noel bit his top lip and waited for the wave which would take them away.
* * * *
When he got home from the lifeboat station, Dominic took Brandy for a walk. It was earlier than the dog was used to, but it was shaping up for a nasty afternoon. If he took her for a good walk now, she’d be content to do her business in the garden later. He pulled on his waterproof jacket and took her out on South Point. Brandy lacked enthusiasm and the strengthening wind meant she wanted to turn for home as soon as she’d relieved herself. Dominic didn’t try to dissuade her. The conditions were turning filthy. Tea and maybe a plate of toast were the perfect remedies for such a bleak afternoon.
In the house, he turned on the lamps in the living room and put the kettle on to boil.
It was a shame he couldn’t look forward to another evening with Arnie. Last night had gone so fast. With a little luck, they could repeat it soon. The boy had seemed friendly enough this afternoon. Maybe he could take them both out for burgers or a pizza sometime soon. Father and son. Why not? Just because he had given little thought to children in the past, there was no reason why he couldn’t do it now. He didn’t dislike kids. Other than the groups who came through the lifeboat station, he had no real experience of them. They weren’t something he’d expected to be part of his life. He’d had no urge to be a father himself.
He would have to change that way of thinking if he was going to be with Arnie. Arnie and AJ came as a package and he could not have one without the other.
The idea would take some getting used to.
As the kettle boiled and he made a pot of tea, Dominic decided that if there was no Arnie tonight, he’d settle for the next best thing and find one of his movies or TV shows on Netflix. He sat at the kitchen table, waiting for the tea to brew, and browsed the available titles on his tablet. He’d barely got started when there was an urgent knock at the front door.
Jacob entered without waiting. His overcoat and hat were soaked. As he took them off in the hall, Dominic saw the lines of concern drawn across his face. Jacob hurried through to the kitchen.
“Is something wrong?�
� Dominic asked. The old man did not look good. His skin was pasty and there was a noticeable tremor in his hands. “Sit down.”
Dominic helped him to a seat and poured a hot cup of tea, adding a heaped spoonful of sugar and a generous glug of milk, just how Jacob liked it. The cup trembled in his hands as Jacob took a sip.
“Are you unwell?” Dominic asked, putting a hand on his forehead. His skin was cold. “Should I call a doctor?”
“No. No, I’m fine. It’s not me. From the way you’re behaving, I take it you haven’t heard the news?”
“What news?”
Jacob took another sip of tea and seemed to steel himself, sitting straighter in the chair, before saying, “Gabriel. He’s dead.”
Dominic heard the words but not their meaning. It took time for what Jacob had said to register. “Gabriel? No. There must be a mistake.”
“There’s not,” Jacob countered. “I was in the town talking to young Cheryl Bratton when we heard. Cheryl has a Saturday job waiting tables at The Lobster Pot. I was there when everyone found out.”
It had the unnatural, distant impression of a dream. Gabriel. Dead. Impossible. Dominic waited for the world to snap back into focus. When it didn’t, he asked, “What happened?”
Jacob stood and poured another cup of tea. He set it in front of Dominic. “Drink this. If you need something stronger, I’ll get it for you afterward.”
“After what? Jacob, what the hell is going on? Tell me what you know.”
Jacob sat down with a sigh. “Dominic, Gabriel has been murdered.”
Dominic stared at him, open-mouthed. “What? How?”
“He didn’t turn up for work this morning, but that wasn’t so unusual. Apparently, he’d often let the manager open on Saturday, then Gabriel would come in later and stay until closing. They said it was rare for him not to be there by one. The staff needed some key that only Gabriel has to access to, so they started calling him. When they didn’t get an answer, the manager, a woman called Jenny, drove over to the house to collect it. She found him in the hall. There was blood everywhere. She said it looked like someone had stabbed him several times. I understand she tried to revive him, but it was hopeless. It must have happened sometime last night and there was nothing she could do by then.”
