Cold Cold Sea

by Linda Huber

  ‘They haven’t found her yet, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed. Maybe, maybe when you wake up in the morning... ’

  But Maggie couldn’t go on. How could she encourage Joe to hope for something she knew herself wouldn’t happen? He finished for her, though.

  ‘Maybe Livvy’ll be home!’

  But of course she wasn’t. Maggie, forced into drugged sleep by another of the doctor’s pills, went to bed straight after Joe, leaving Colin sitting outside listening to the helicopter still droning overhead.

  And the helicopter was the first sound Maggie heard the next morning.

  For a fraction of a second when she woke, her world was as usual. Then the realisation of the previous day’s events swept through her and she moaned aloud.

  Colin was lying on top of the duvet with his back towards her, still wearing the clothes he’d had on yesterday. Maggie could tell he was awake.

  ‘Col?’

  She touched his shoulder. He rose to his feet and staggered towards the door, not even looking at her.

  ‘They haven’t found her,’ he said, his voice expressionless. ‘If they don’t find her today...’

  He went through to the kitchen and Maggie listened to him crashing around among the mugs. The radio crackled for a moment and was then abruptly silent. Maggie heard Colin’s voice talking to Joe, and then the front door slammed. She rolled into a ball. She knew that Colin had turned away from her, and she knew why. He blamed her.

  He was right, too. This whole horrible situation was her fault and no-one else’s. She had allowed a fit of pique at a small child’s thoughtlessness to colour her actions, and now Olivia was gone.

  ‘Mummy? Are you up yet?’

  Her son’s voice in the kitchen drove Maggie out of bed. Joe needed her to be strong. She couldn’t fail him too, she had to be a mother to her little boy, at least.

  He was sitting at the table spooning up yoghurt, his usually bright little face clouded.

  ‘Mummy,’ he said, and Maggie blinked back tears, he looked so worried. ‘Mummy, when will they find Livvy?’

  Maggie sat down beside him, struggling to find words. Colin strode into the room in time to hear Joe’s question.

  ‘It might take a long time,’ he said. ‘If Livvy’s badly lost it might take days to find her. I think the best thing would be if I took you to Grandma and Gramps, Joe. You can stay with them until... in the meantime.’

  Maggie shivered. It was a good idea, but since when hadn’t they discussed decisions like that? Colin’s parents lived in Looe on the south coast, not exactly next door, but her own mother was on holiday in Tuscany. And whatever happened today it would be better if Joe wasn’t around.

  ‘We’ll wait until Howard comes, then we’ll go,’ said Colin. ‘You’d better pack, Joe.’

  Without a word, Joe went into the living room and began gathering toys together.

  Maggie stared at Colin. He was angry, she could see that little pulse beating near his hairline and his jaw was tight.

  Quite suddenly he turned to her and she shrank back at the expression on his face. ‘Don’t put the radio on until we’ve gone,’ he said, his voice low and furious. ‘She’s on the news. And there’s a policeman outside making sure a herd of reporters don’t cross the tape they’ve put up at the start of Cliff Road. They all want horror pictures for their news sites. “Drowned girl’s parents in grief.” Fucking shit.’

  For a brief moment, Maggie closed her eyes. Then she stood up and slowly stepped towards Colin, but he evaded her and opened the back door.

  ‘You should have bloody watched her,’ he said viciously, going out and banging the door behind him.

  There was nothing to say. Alone in Joe’s room, Maggie opened drawers, unable to keep her tears in check. Joe’s belongings only half-filled the blue canvas bag. Last week, she’d packed Livvy’s things in here too. How happy they had been, Olivia most of all. Packing was a wonderful game now that she was old enough to remember the cottage. Pink t-shirts and Old Bear. Looking forward to making sandcastles and eating ice cream every day. Then the next minute stomping around in disgust because the cat wasn’t going with them. Typical Livvy.

  Howard arrived at half past eight.

  ‘No news,’ he said briefly, glancing at Joe.

  ‘Joe, run out to the garden for a moment while we talk to Mr Moir,’ said Maggie, hearing her voice shake. Joe gave her a stricken look and left.

  ‘I’m taking him to my parents at Looe,’ said Colin, and Maggie clasped her hands beneath her chin when Howard nodded, looking from her to Colin.

  ‘I have to tell you that while we feel the most likely thing by far is that Olivia went into the sea, the investigations on land will continue intensively in the meantime. It’s being reported on both radio and TV news so we’re waiting for a response. Someone may have seen her.’

  He paused, and Maggie stared at him. His voice was downbeat. He didn’t think they would find Livvy alive, she could tell. But in spite of this her child’s photo was on TV and it would be all over the Internet too.

  ‘I understand,’ said Colin, and Maggie heard a new, weary tone in his voice. So now Colin didn’t believe Olivia would be found safe either. And like he’d said, Livvy was gone because she, Maggie, ‘hadn’t bloody watched her’.

  Howard grimaced.

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t do more. You’ll have seen the reporters down the lane. I hope they’ll leave you alone, I’ll have a word on my way back.’

  Maggie felt his eyes on her, saw that he wanted to help her and didn’t know how. He really did think that Livvy was dead, and would probably tell that to the reporters. And of course a dead child was of limited interest to these media people, they would want something a lot more sensational. But at least the search was continuing, because they simply had to find Livvy. Life wouldn’t be life with no Livvy.

  Colin opened the door and called Joe. ‘I want to know straightaway if there’s any news,’ he said to Howard.

  Joe rushed up to Maggie and she carried him out to the car.

  ‘I’ll talk to you later, and I’ll see you as soon as we can manage. I love you, Joe.’

  ‘Will you and Livvy come to Grandma’s too?’ asked Joe, and Maggie cringed.

  ‘We’ll see,’ she said. ‘Bye, love.’

  She stood aside as Colin deposited his bag on the back seat. He looked at her. Anger, grief and pain mixed in with disgust were plain to see on his face, and it was all directed at her. He got into the car and revved the engine. For a moment, Maggie thought he was going to drive off without speaking to her. Then he rolled the window down.

  ‘I’ll be back later. Probably. Phone me if there’s any news.’

  He pushed the car into gear and reversed into Cliff Road.

  Maggie managed to wave to Joe as the car lurched down the road and disappeared round the bend after the row of holiday cottages. Both her children were gone. And in ten seconds time dozens of cameras would be clicking away, trying to get a good shot of Joe. She covered her face with her hands, feeling the shaking start inside her again.

  Howard patted her shoulder.

  ‘Just hang on for now. It isn’t time to give up hope yet,’ he said, and Maggie felt ridiculously grateful. At last someone had said something almost positive.

  ‘I haven’t, not really. But - my little girl. It’s so unbearable that this is happening.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’ll come by early this afternoon, or before, if we find her, of course. Try - to stay calm.’

  Grateful that he hadn’t said ‘Try not to worry’, Maggie watched as his car, too, went down the road, leaving her quite alone at Cove Cottage.

  And what should she do now? Phone Mum in Tuscany, for one thing, and ruin her holiday. And Sue, and Jess, her friends back home. If only they were here to help her right now.

  Maggie had never felt so alone. Waiting, trying to hold it together, then crying, then waiting again. And then Howard’s car was speeding back up the lane t
owards the cottage. She ran to the front door and he rolled down his window.

  ‘Maggie,’ he said, his voice completely neutral. ‘You need to come and look at some CCTV footage. Cameras at Exeter picked up a child similar to Olivia at ten o’clock last night.’

  Chapter Eight

  They took her to a different part of the police station this time. This room was busy, full of computers and people either working at their own stations or standing looking over their colleagues’ shoulders, all talking in low voices and sounding urgent. Were they all looking for Olivia? Maggie clutched her bag and forced herself to breathe calmly. This sudden new hope was even more difficult to cope with than the uncertainty; she could feel her heart thudding away in her chest. The fact that she was being active now helped, but every few minutes the reality of what was happening to her family would diminish any vestige of hope still inside her.

  Howard took her to a table and sat her in front of a blank screen. She could feel the eyes on her back, but whatever they were thinking, it would be impossible for them to think as badly of her as she did herself.

  ‘Have you phoned Colin?’ she asked, and Howard nodded.

  ‘Amanda was doing that when I left to get you.’

  He rolled a chair over beside her and began to manipulate the mouse. The screen in front of them lit up.

  ‘Okay. Now like I told you, this is far from a clear image. I’ve gone through all the photos Colin took here and I have no idea if this is Olivia. And Maggie... ’ He looked at her, and she felt how very much he wanted to find Livvy for them. ‘... You should try to stay calm.’

  She blinked at him, and he went on.

  ‘See if you notice any little detail that could identify this girl as Olivia - the way she walks, maybe, or holds her head. Look at the child’s posture, look at her body proportions, the length of her hair. Ignore the clothes. And look at the woman, too, you might have seen her somewhere.’

  He double-clicked and a grainy, black and white image appeared on the screen. Maggie could see a brick building with shop windows and doorways, and cars parked diagonally beside the pavement. Howard had told her it was the main train station at Exeter. A man with a black Labrador was disappearing out of the picture.

  ‘Here they come,’ said Howard, and Maggie leaned forward. Moving jerkily, a woman and a small girl came into view. The woman was holding the child’s right hand and they were hurrying, the little girl almost running to keep up with the woman’s longer strides. The child was wearing shorts and a baggy jumper, and her hair was long. Neither face was turned towards the camera. The woman was dressed in a mid-calf skirt and a lighter coloured cardigan. The two hurried along by the building and vanished through a doorway.

  Maggie looked at Howard in dismay. She’d thought she would know straightaway if this was Olivia, but she didn’t.

  ‘They’ve gone into the station,’ said Howard. ‘Unfortunately two of the cameras in there weren’t operating last night, and the others didn’t pick them up. We have people there making inquiries right now, and our CCTV expert is on his way in. He should be able to improve the picture, but I thought it was worth getting you here straightaway. Have another look, Maggie.’

  He rewound the sequence and they watched again. On the third run through Maggie still didn’t know. The expert arrived and took Howard’s place beside her. He blew up some still images of the child without, however, significantly improving the quality. Frustration filled Maggie as she gazed at the indistinct pictures on the screen. If only the child’s face was clearer. The hair fit. The size fit. There was nothing about the way this child was moving that was different to any other child trotting along beside an adult. But there was nothing special to say that it was Olivia. The pictures just weren’t good enough to tell.

  ‘Is Colin coming here to see this or are you sending it to Looe?’ she asked. She knew she should phone Colin too, but horrible as it felt she was afraid to. He’d been so angry, and she would have to tell him that she had failed again because she couldn’t tell if the child on this film was Olivia or not.

  ‘I think he’s on his way now,’ said the man beside her. ‘Let’s look at the child’s legs, maybe there are some bruises or something that would give us a negative identification. Look at the knees in particular, knees are pretty distinctive, you know.’

  He blew up another image and Maggie leaned forwards again.

  ‘The first reports from Exeter are all negative,’ said Howard, returning and leaning over the back of Maggie’s chair. ‘Nobody remembers them at the ticket office or the kiosk. We’re pulling in pictures from other cameras in Exeter now in case we find them somewhere else.’

  ‘Howie, have a look here,’ said the officer beside Maggie. He zoomed in on the child’s left leg. At the top of the thigh the little girl’s arm came into view, the long sleeve hanging over the child’s wrist.

  ‘Here.’

  He froze the picture and blew up the child’s hand. Maggie strained her eyes. Now that it was pointed out, she could see there was something unusual there, something bulky just peeking out beneath the over-long cuff of the jumper. The child’s fingers were curled in an unnatural-looking grip.

  ‘Shit. That’s a plaster,’ said Howard. ‘She’s broken that arm.’ He shouted back into the room. ‘Sam, Amanda, get onto the hospitals right away. Newquay, Exeter and everywhere in between first. We’re looking for a girl plastered yesterday and one plastered at any time within however long they keep these things on for.’

  Stunned by the new development, Maggie followed Howard back to the room with comfortable chairs. He went off to order tea, and she buried her face in her hands. This waiting and hoping was unbearable, and yet something was telling her loud and clear that there was no hope here, this child wasn’t Olivia. And if it wasn’t Olivia, they would still have no idea what had happened...

  She sat there sipping stewed tea and making crumbs with a digestive biscuit. It was half an hour before Howard returned, and she saw immediately that the news wasn’t good.

  ‘A four-year-old girl was treated for a broken arm at the Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro on the twelfth,’ he said, sitting down opposite and looking straight at her. ‘We’ve spoken to the doctor who saw her and he remembers she had long brown hair. Amanda’s trying to contact the family now, so we’ll soon know for sure.’

  Maggie nodded, grateful when he left her alone again. It wasn’t Livvy, she could feel that.

  Howard returned a few minutes later.

  ‘Maggie, Colin’s here. He wasn’t happy when I told him we hadn’t been able to identify the kid from the film so he’s having a look for himself now.’

  ‘You mean he was mad at me because I couldn’t identify her,’ she said, startled to hear the bitterness in her own voice.

  ‘He’s hurting too,’ said Howard. ‘I’ll bring him through when he’s seen it.’

  Maggie could hear Colin before she saw him, ranting about the miserable quality of CCTV films. She shrank back in her chair. His anger was even more apparent now than it had been earlier.

  He strode into the room, his face pale.

  ‘Maggie,’ was all he said, barely making eye contact. She nodded, a lump rising in her throat. Before she could say anything, Howard appeared in the doorway.

  ‘It’s a girl called Meredith O’Brian. The family were on their way home from a day out when Meredith had to go to the loo. Exeter station was nearest. I’m sorry.’

  Maggie’s tenuous hope vanished abruptly, and hopelessness returned full force. Olivia was still missing. Believed drowned.

  Colin stood up.

  ‘We’ll leave you to do your work. Come on, Maggie.’

  Back at the cottage, the helicopter had gone. Howard had told them it would only be searching at low tide today, and the thought that it would be looking for a dead child felt unreal to Maggie. Yesterday’s agony was gone, along with today’s brief hope, and in their place the new heaviness was making every movement so difficult she di
dn’t know how she was managing to stay upright. She was moving into uncharted waters now. Whatever happened, her life would never be the same again. And with every second that passed, the already miniscule likelihood of getting Livvy back alive was growing smaller, and the dread of what was almost certainly coming was quite unbearable.

  Colin strode into the bedroom and yanked the case out from under the bed. He pulled clothes from the wardrobe, squashing t-shirts, jeans, everything in any old way. There was no expression on his face now but Maggie could tell by the set of his jaw that he was at the limit of his endurance.

  ‘Col, we can’t leave now,’ she said, standing in the doorway. ‘We have to be here in case... when... ’

  He stared at her, his lips pressed together. He was furious, she could tell, but when he spoke his voice was quiet. Not a gentle kind of quiet, though, but guarded, as if he was afraid of saying too much.

  ‘Maggie, I just can’t look at you and think of what happened. I have to get away. I’m going to Looe, I promised Joe I’d be back before bedtime. You stay on here if you want, or go back to Carlton Bridge. You know they won’t find her alive now.’

  ‘No,’ she said, reaching out to him, but he pushed past her to get his things from the bathroom. ‘Colin. Please. We have to get through this together. Joe needs us to be his... ’

  ‘Livvy needed us too,’ he said, and his use of the past tense hurt her even more than the news that it had been a girl called Meredith she’d spent so long staring at today, not Livvy. She watched as he finished packing and then followed him out to the car. He was going to leave again, and this time he wasn’t going to come back.

  ‘Please, Colin, please don’t go.’

  ‘No, Maggie. I just - I can’t.’

  He flung himself into the driving seat and stabbed the key into the ignition.

  This time she didn’t wave as the car bumped away from the cottage.

  Chapter Nine

  End of August

  Maggie stood at the kitchen window. She couldn’t see the ocean from here, but she could hear the waves crashing up the beach at the front of the cottage. The tide was going out and it was raining softly, more like mist really. September rain. Or it would be, tomorrow. Shivering, she turned and put the kettle on. The fifteenth of August seemed like a lifetime ago now.