by Linda Huber
But she had to eat, and Mary and Charlie were both over eighty. It wasn’t fair to let them lug bags of groceries around for her.
‘Could you maybe bring me a loaf and some eggs, please?’ said Maggie, reaching a guilty compromise. ‘That would be very kind.’
‘It’s quite alright, dear,’ said Mary, and Maggie could hear the concern in her voice. ‘Why don’t you go back inside and warm up? You’ve been sitting out here far too long.’
‘I will,’ said Maggie, standing up. Just go, she wanted to scream. Leave me alone, I’m waiting for my daughter.
‘Alright then, goodbye now,’ said Mary, patting Maggie’s shoulder anxiously.
Maggie forced herself to smile at the old woman. Poor Mary, poor Charlie. She had ruined this holiday for them, and who knew if they’d be able to return next year to enjoy another.
‘We’ll be back in an hour, and I’ll make us all a nice pot of tea. I’ll come and get you, dear.’
She turned away, and Maggie waved dutifully as their car lurched out of sight. They hadn’t deserved this. But what else could she do? She wasn’t even coping with the basic things in life, like shopping. Sitting here watching the sea was always more important. She was the last of the summer family, and it was up to her to wait for Olivia.
When the search was called off, Colin had gone back to Carlton Bridge with Joe and his parents. He phoned and texted her often now; the coldness between them was over and he was trying to rebuild the relationship. So was she. He’d come down to see her, but nothing could persuade Maggie to give up her vigil. It had turned into a sort of pact - if she watched long enough, the sea would give them Olivia back again. And then what?
Then she could go home and bury her daughter and be a mother to her little boy and never, ever go anywhere near Cove Cottage again.
Crossing her arms for warmth, Maggie sat back down and stared out to sea. After weeks of keeping watch, she knew the tides intimately. She knew exactly how the sea crept up the sand into Borrower’s and over rock pools, into Smuggler’s and up and up the beach, until the whole thing went into reverse and the water crept away again leaving the sands wet and clean.
It was windier than usual on the clifftop today and Maggie hugged herself, shivering. The Barnes would soon be back and Mary would fuss if Maggie was still outside. She would rush around heating soup and making motherly noises. She was a good, kind neighbour, and had actually helped Maggie more than her own mother had. Mum was stuck, trapped in her own grief, and of course it was less than a year since Dad had died.
Maggie stood up and took a long, hard look round the cove. One day, here or at another cove, there would be something, she knew. One day, a little body... Maggie felt the scream begin inside her, the one that left her weak and shaking, and she was helpless to stop it.
‘O - liv - i - a!’ The wind carried the name from her lips. ‘Li - vv - y!’
The scream was still echoing round the cove when something caught Maggie’s eye. Something at the edge of the water, just at the entrance to Smuggler’s Cave. Something pink.
Maggie ran. Down the cliff path, sliding on loose stones, grabbing rocks to steady herself, going over on her ankle at the first bend but rushing on in spite of the pain, down and down and down to the sand, the sliding sand, over the beach, there was something there. She was up to her knees in freezing cold water now, where was it, that pink thing...
It was gone. Perhaps it was in the cave. Maggie waded into darkness, frantically searching. She couldn’t see a thing, it was too dark. And what was she looking for anyway, what did a little girl in a pink and white t-shirt look like after so many weeks in the sea? The mental image was horrifying. Maggie retched and vomited, and the waves swirled the sick against the cave wall and then back to her. It was dark and cold and Olivia wasn’t here. Maggie turned and waded back to the entrance. Icy water splashed up her thighs, she could hardly feel her feet now. The pink thing, where was it? She had seen it...
And there it was. Just a few feet from the beach, bobbing underwater. Maggie fell to her knees, unheeding of the waves rushing over her legs and up her back, soaking her hair and stinging inside her nose. Dry sobs closed her throat as she knelt there and gathered a child’s torn rubber ring to her chest.
Strong hands grasped her and lifted her to her feet.
‘Come on, Maggie. Let’s get you inside.’
She dropped the rubber ring and allowed Howard to lead her out of the water.
‘On you come, that’s it. Mary Barnes saw you running down here and phoned us. Come on, Maggie. We’ll soon have you back in the warm.’
Maggie felt completely numb. It wasn’t Livvy she’d seen. Nothing of the sort. Just a piece of torn plastic that someone had thrown away.
Amanda Donnelly was waiting on the beach with a blanket that Maggie recognised as belonging in Howard’s car. There were tears on the other woman’s face. She and Howard wrapped the blanket round Maggie’s shoulders, pushing her towards the path.
‘Up we go, Maggie. That’s it.’
Mary and Charlie were hovering at the top of the cliff and ushered everyone into their own cottage. Maggie couldn’t speak.
‘She needs dry clothes,’ said Mary firmly, and Maggie saw a pair of her own jeans, and a jumper warming in front of the electric fire. Of course, she hadn’t locked her door. She had been stupid, she knew, and she was so tired...
The doctor arrived when she was sitting wrapped in a blanket with a hot water bottle, being fed lentil soup by Mary. It was as if she were at the theatre, and all the people here were putting on a performance especially for her. They were acting out a story, speaking their lines and gesticulating, but none of it was real.
‘It was lucky I suppose that I had forgotten my purse and we came back for it,’ said Mary. ‘Thank you for coming right away, Chief Inspector.’
‘We were just heading back from a case,’ said Howard. ‘You’ll be alright, Maggie.’
He looked at her sadly, but she was grateful that someone had spoken directly to her.
The doctor gave her two pills, and she knew that in half an hour’s time she wouldn’t be hurting half as much as she was now. Maggie took a deep breath. She had never behaved like that before. Like a crazy woman. She didn’t know what had got into her, she could easily have drowned. She and Livvy both could have been lost. And she had a little boy who needed his mother; she should be helping him, not sitting in an empty cottage endlessly waiting. Maggie took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. A drugged sense of peace seeped slowly into her bones.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said to Howard, who was standing in front of the electric fire, his trousers steaming. ‘I thought it was Olivia.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Maggie, I phoned Colin. He’s coming to get you. Go home, Maggie. I’ll watch out for Olivia for you, I promise.’
Colin arrived later that afternoon and hugged her tightly. He was thinner now. So was she, of course. And he was calmer, much calmer than she was these days. He was grieving, but he had accepted that Olivia was gone.
‘Col, I - I can feel her. I can still feel her inside me.’
She sat on the bed, watching as he packed her clothes. He sat down beside her and she leaned against him gratefully. Whatever else had happened, the rift between them was healing. She knew that their relationship would never be the same again, but they were still together, and for the moment that was enough. She knew he didn’t blame her any more, but that didn’t stop her blaming herself. She had, after all, killed her daughter.
‘Maggie, keep her there inside you. I know it’s hard, but for Joe’s sake, we have to go on.’
He was right, she thought. It was the only way forwards. She would go back to Carlton Bridge and Joe, take her pills, and wait for the pain to lessen. And she would keep her Livvy safe inside her forever.
‘I spoke to Mum and Dad,’ said Colin, clearing the few contents of the fridge into a cardboard box. ‘We thought we’d sell this place. It’s the wrong
time of year, of course, but come the spring we’ll put it on the market. We could buy another cottage somewhere... ’
‘Don’t,’ said Maggie. ‘I can’t think about that.’
Drearily, she pulled Livvy’s clothes from the wardrobe and laid them in another box. The toys went on top, first the dolls, and a couple of rainy-day jigsaws. And Old Bear. He’d been a third birthday present, Livvy had chosen him herself.
In spite of everything, Maggie found herself smiling at the memory. What a golden, glorious third birthday Livvy’d had. They’d baked a cake, of course, Olivia had wanted ‘a seaside cake’. So they’d constructed waves with green and blue marzipan, and even made a little marzipan boat. Olivia loved marzipan. The grandparents all visited for the weekend, a squash in the little cottage but fun, too. They’d had a party on the beach, with cake and scones and cream, and Old Bear tucked under Olivia’s arm all day. It was the last time all the family had been together.
Colin taped the box shut.
‘We’ll put it in the attic with the rest of her stuff,’ he said, and Maggie knew then that Olivia didn’t have a bedroom at Carlton Bridge any more.
When there was nothing left to pack she helped Colin carry everything out to the car. Howard had returned to say goodbye. He had been so kind, he and Amanda both, and Maggie knew that in a different situation they would have become friends. But kindness hadn’t found Olivia, and Maggie could never think about Howard without feeling the agony of losing her child.
She gazed at the cottage. So many memories were here, happy memories originally but now they were too painful to think about. And this would be her last time at Cove Cottage, maybe the last time at Newquay, too, unless by some miracle the sea did give Olivia back to them and they could come down to collect her. For the last time, she would say goodbye.
Howard gripped both her shoulders when she tried to say thank you.
‘I’ll watch every day, Maggie. I promise.’
She got into the car and they drove away. And she didn’t look back.
Part Two
The Wait
Chapter One
16th August
A brief whimper crackled through the baby monitor. Jennifer grabbed the remote and silenced the evening film, holding her breath as she listened. The last thing she needed was Hailey up again. The wretched child had woken every hour on the hour all through the previous night - another session like that would be the end of them both. And Jennifer hadn’t even been able to nap while Hailey was sleeping after lunch because there was too much to do, and the babies had spent all afternoon using her bladder as a trampoline. She was exhausted.
Just thinking about the babies seemed to activate them again; a sudden surge from the inside made tiny circular waves tremble across the surface of the tea she was balancing on her bump. Tiredness forgotten, Jennifer massaged her swollen belly, pleasure warming through her as the answering knock came from within.
It was amazing. Even now she could hardly believe it, especially after everything that had happened. She was pregnant again. With twins. By the end of November she would have two darling babies to love and treasure and dress in beautiful new baby clothes. Phillip would be so surprised. She had been four and a half months pregnant when he left, but she had kept the news to herself. He would only have made a silly fuss if she’d told him, and there was no need for him to worry - they were all just fine.
The fact that it was twins seemed to make up for everything. Twice the amount of luck and twice the amount of love. Jennifer laughed aloud. And darling Hailey was right here with her too, and in a funny way that was even more wonderful.
The monitor remained silent, and Jennifer relaxed back on the sofa. Of course staying at Thea’s ex-farm cottage wasn’t the usual thing for Hailey, and children of that age were creatures of habit when it came to bedtime routines, weren’t they? But this was better than going home to Truro. Long Farm Cottage was miles away from everywhere; they’d have peace and quiet here. Jennifer was only too glad she’d had the key to this place, so even with Thea in Canada she’d been able to bring Hailey straight here yesterday morning. The seclusion was perfect.
Jennifer smiled happily. It was marvellous having friends when you needed them. She’d phoned Thea earlier that evening when it was mid-afternoon in Toronto, and her friend had believed every word when Jennifer said that she was going to join Phillip in the States and needed a stopping-off place on the way to Heathrow. Just for one night, of course. Phillip and Thea didn’t know each other well enough to start comparing notes on Jennifer’s whereabouts, so she could stay right here at the farmhouse for as long as she needed to.
The monitor crackled again, and Jennifer rose to her feet. She could not go through another night like the last one. Another magic pill was needed. That had worked beautifully yesterday, the child had slept all afternoon while Jennifer collected a carful of necessities from home. So if she gave Hailey the same dose now they should both have a good night.
She stared at the packet of blue pills. They were indeed magic. They’d helped her through the Black Patch but of course she had stopped taking them as soon as she’d realised she was pregnant again. Now they would help Hailey with... but she didn’t know what was wrong with Hailey.
It wasn’t just that the child wasn’t sleeping well, she’d been crying, too. Was she feverish? Jennifer could remember her own mother coming to her bedroom at night when she’d had a high temperature saying, ‘Time for the magic medicine.’ Back then it had been a crushed junior aspirin. These weren’t aspirin, but drugs had evolved a lot since her own childhood. You didn’t even need to crush these ones, they were small and easy to swallow.
Carefully, Jennifer extracted the other half of yesterday’s tablet and took it upstairs with a glass of water. Half a pill was surely alright for a small child. She’d read the leaflet but the dosages were confusingly varied. Hailey was quiet again, lying on her side with one arm dangling over the edge of the bed. Jennifer stood for a moment gazing down at the sleeping child.
Such a miracle. For a moment Jennifer felt exactly like she had when the midwife laid baby Hailey in her arms. She crouched beside the bed and pushed the half pill to the back of the sleeping child’s tongue, following it up with a mouthful of water. Hailey opened her eyes and choked, and Jennifer smiled encouragingly.
‘Time for your medicine, Hailey darling. Swallow it down and have a lovely sleep,’ she said, and the little girl closed her eyes again.
Jennifer sat on the edge of the bed, stroking the suntanned little face. She’d done this for nearly all of the previous night too; Hailey had been restless and weepy for some reason, and Jennifer hadn’t dared give her more medication so soon after the first dose.
The half pill worked its magic as she had known it would, and Hailey was soon in a deep sleep. Jennifer wiped a little trickle of saliva from the little girl’s chin. Medication had its uses, but those doctors had given her far too much of it during the Black Patch. It had muddled her thoughts; she no longer remembered everything that had happened back then. Something had happened to Hailey, but here she was asleep in bed, so she wasn’t hurt. Something had changed, though, but Jennifer couldn’t remember what.
Thinking about it was unsettling, and Jennifer stood up, tucking the duvet round Hailey’s neck. Sound asleep. And thank goodness there were plenty more pills.
Downstairs, she made fresh tea and put the television on again. The babies started kicking as soon as she sat down and Jennifer smiled happily. Life was going to be so good now. In a few weeks’ time the new house in Polpayne would be ready and the two of them would go there to wait for Phillip... and when he came home they would all be together again.
Her mobile buzzed in her handbag and Jennifer hesitated. It was Phillip again; he often called at this time but she really didn’t have the energy to talk to him tonight. Quickly, she rejected the call and switched her mobile off. She would call him tomorrow and say she’d been at the theatre; a good night’s slee
p before she spoke to him was an absolute necessity or she’d ruin the surprise.
The news was starting and Jennifer watched idly as the usual mixture of politics, suicide bombings and knife crime in London flashed in front of her. The fourth report jolted her awake, however, and she stared in horror as a child’s face filled the screen, followed by a view of a deserted beach beneath high, threatening cliffs. The newsreader’s voice was grave.
‘There is still no sign of the three-year-old girl who vanished from a Newquay beach yesterday morning, and it appears increasingly likely that she has drowned. Police have - ’
Jennifer stumbled back upstairs and fell to her knees by the bed. Thank God, thank God, her baby was right here, breathing beautifully and looking so peaceful. Jennifer covered the child’s face with kisses and then leaned back, still trembling, her heart beating frantically in her throat.
It was as if a distant memory was fighting its way to the surface, but remaining tantalisingly out of reach. What had happened? Was it something to do with the beach? Had Hailey been lost? Yes she had, hadn’t she, but here she was back in bed again. Everything was alright.
Jennifer watched the child for a few more minutes and then crept to the other side of the bed and slid under the duvet. The best way to keep Hailey safe was to stay right here with her.
Chapter Two
Mid August
Long Farm Cottage was centuries old. Battleship grey stone walls supported a darker roof of slate, and the whole building was dwarfed by three enormous oak trees whose roots were making the old stone floors even more uneven. Inside, solid wooden beams traversed low ceilings and the whitewashed internal walls were at least a foot thick. Thea was an Aga-user, so the kitchen had a quaint, old-fashioned look to it. The entire atmosphere was one of age and tranquillity. And silence.
