After the Accident: A compelling and addictive psychological suspense novel

by Kerry Wilkinson

  I was on my way over to the bar to get another drink when I spotted a woman sitting there. She stood out, partly because she was on her own – but also because she was so… normal. You had to be there, really. In a hotel like that, people get dressed up to go down for dinner. The women all seem to be in long dresses, with platform sandals, or heels. The guys all have dress trousers and a linen shirt. The skin tones range from light brown through to bright red. There’s this unmentioned holiday etiquette in that everybody kind of looks the same.

  Emma wasn’t like that – although I didn’t know she was called Emma then. She was wearing a baggy T-shirt with a panda on the front. It would have been normal in a café back home – but it really stood out in that bar.

  Emma: I have no idea what I was wearing that night.

  Paul: Emma didn’t notice me at first, even though I put myself on the stool right next to her. She was busy watching everyone and I kept having to stop myself from watching her. Even I thought I was being creepy, but there was something hypnotic about her. She looked so out of place and yet it was also as if she belonged exactly where she was.

  Emma: He kept opening his mouth as if he was going to say something and then he’d stop himself. He must have done it four or five times before I finally said: ‘You can talk to me, y’know?’

  Paul: If she’d not said anything, I’d probably still be giving it my best goldfish routine an hour later.

  Emma: I told him my name and asked if he was on a lads’ holiday. There were quite a lot of groups in that hotel, all wearing three-quarter trousers and football shirts.

  Paul: I told her I was working.

  Emma: I only turned to look at him properly when he told me he was working on the island. It wasn’t what I expected. He said he was part of a small team that was filming a documentary. The moment he said that, the hairs went up on the back of my neck and I think I knew.

  Paul: I told her there had been a death on the island nine years before, where a man had fallen off a cliff in suspicious circumstances. I remember she bit her lip for a second and then she asked what the man was called.

  Emma: He told me that a businessman named Alan had gone over a cliff and that they were investigating what happened.

  Paul: In retrospect, I suppose I should have realised something wasn’t quite right. That’s easy to say now, of course – but there was no reason for me to have suspected who she was.

  Emma: I didn’t tell him who I was. Not then.

  Paul: Of course I fancied her. But, look, it’s not like I’m one of those blokes who has the confidence to go up and talk to any girl who’s by herself. I’m not someone who swipes right on everyone. I’m probably too old to be swiping in any direction.

  It was one of those things. If she’d told me to get lost, or if she’d ignored me completely, then I wouldn’t have said anything. She instigated the conversation. I went with it.

  Emma: He was trying to show off.

  Paul: I was trying to show off, if I’m honest. I thought it might impress her if I told her that I was working on a big documentary. I might have mentioned Netflix was already on board, even if they, um… well…

  Emma: He said there was already a bidding war between Netflix and ITV.

  Paul: I was telling her that our team looks at old mysteries, where families or friends think there might be more to an incident than was ever revealed. It was massive at the time, with Making A Murderer, Serial, When They See Us, that OJ thing, and all that. There was this big boom in true crime stories. I thought she’d be impressed, but she didn’t seem bothered. When I later found out who she was, it seems obvious why. She had a true crime story to match any of theirs.

  Emma: I let him talk. Men like to hear the sound of their own voices when they’re trying to impress someone. I didn’t mind.

  …

  Actually, that’s unfair. I don’t think it’s just men.

  Paul: I feel so stupid now. I was telling her how this businessman named Alan had slipped off a cliff and hit the rocks below. The local police called it an accident at the time, but Alan’s family were never convinced – especially his son. Alan wasn’t a drinker, so he wasn’t drunk. He also didn’t like heights, so the chances of him being on the edge of that cliff seemed slim. Alan’s family had been quietly campaigning for years and arguing that the police had botched the investigation.

  I was really playing it up, telling her how Alan’s family was convinced it wasn’t an accident and that we were there to try to uncover the truth. I kept telling her how we’d been working closely with Alan’s son.

  Emma: I almost said the name ‘Scott’ when Paul was talking about Alan’s son. I guess that night would have gone differently if I’d not stopped myself.

  Paul: In the end, I ran out of things to talk about. I’d been blagging it a bit anyway, probably making it sound as if I was somehow integral to this whole thing, even though I was the guy holding the boom mic. I’d probably been talking for about half an hour. I’m not usually like that, but every time I stopped, she had a question and so I was off again. My sister once told me about a series of dates she’d gone on where the blokes never stopped talking at her – and I suddenly realised that’s exactly what I was doing.

  Emma: It was my fault. I knew Paul was trying to impress me, but I never stepped in to stop him, or tell him who I was. I wanted to listen to someone else talking and he seemed happy to be there.

  Paul: When I realised I’d been going on about myself almost non-stop, I asked Emma what she did. She said she worked in a shop that sold vintage clothing, which I guess explained the random T-shirt. I told her it sounded interesting and she gave me some fabulous side-eye.

  Emma: I told him that I could have named any job and he’d have said he found it interesting.

  Paul: That did make me laugh. She was right in that she could probably have named any career and I’d have told her it was fascinating. But it was that look that really made me feel lucky to be talking to her. A sort of half-squint with a half-smile that made it clear she wasn’t for playing games. It was like she could see me… really see me. Does that make sense?

  Emma: I didn’t really want to talk about myself because there’s only so long I can do that before the questions get uncomfortable. I told him I worked with my friend in a clothes shop and more or less left it at that. I didn’t say that the regular hours and the routine is what saved me.

  Paul: She didn’t seem comfortable talking about herself and I didn’t want to push. I asked if she wanted another and she said she was drinking Coke.

  Emma: He gave me the look, but he didn’t ask the question. I might have walked off if he had.

  Paul: I didn’t think it was that weird that Emma wanted a soft drink. My sister’s a vegan and people are always asking her why she doesn’t eat meat. It’s as if she’s the weird one for not eating things that used to be alive, even though, if you think about it, there’s no reason for that to be the norm.

  I figure it’s quite rude to ask someone why they don’t drink, why they don’t eat meat, why they’re not married or why they don’t have kids. That sort of thing. If someone wants to tell you, they will.

  Emma: He turned to me and goes: ‘So what’s your story? Are you single?’

  Paul: She laughed, but it wasn’t like she was laughing at me. It was like when you’re with a mate and you take the mick out of each other.

  Emma: I called him ‘Mr Subtle’, which he found funny. I thought about telling him I was single, or maybe even that I was married and unavailable. It was only a split second, but I decided to tell him the truth, so I said I was divorced.

  Paul: I hadn’t expected that. She didn’t seem old enough.

  Emma: He waited for a moment, probably wondering what the rest of the story was. I could’ve come out with something like ‘We weren’t compatible’ and all that – but I didn’t want to lie. Not then. I decided to say nothing.

  Paul: She didn’t want to talk about it, which was fair enough.r />
  Emma: I liked that he didn’t ask. I’d left so much unanswered, but he didn’t seem bothered. So many people miss the non-verbal things. They’ll either push you on things you don’t want to talk about or they’ll veer off and talk about something nonsensical.

  Paul: I didn’t know what else to talk about. I’d told her all the basics about myself and she didn’t want to talk about her life. I’ve never been one of those people who can bring up the weather and then end up turning it into some existential conversation that will go on for hours.

  Emma: I told him I should probably go – and I meant it. I stood and was genuinely ready to leave – but then I thought about inviting him to my room. It was as if the idea appeared from nowhere.

  Paul: She was going to walk away and I figured I wouldn’t get another chance to say something.

  Emma: Before I could ask if he wanted to come back to my room, he asked if I wanted to go upstairs. I think he mentioned something about having some amazing local coffee in his room.

  Paul: I’d forgotten that I mentioned coffee to her. I panicked, OK?

  Emma: I thought about saying ‘no’, even though I almost invited him to my room. I knew he’d find out who I was eventually. I didn’t want to cause trouble for him but, at the same time… it was nice to be wanted.

  …

  Everyone needs that sometimes, I think. I’d not had that in a long time.

  Paul: I was trying to play it cool, but I couldn’t get off that stool fast enough when she said ‘OK’.

  Emma: I felt young in that moment. You always see yourself as an eighteen-year-old and then, suddenly, you’re not any longer.

  Life just disappears.

  I used to go on boozy holidays with my friends when we were teenagers. We’d do shots and fishbowls – and then go back to some lad’s room. There was this moment where I was able to forget about everything that had happened and could be that girl again.

  Paul: I couldn’t get the key card to work on my room door.

  Emma: We dashed up the stairs because there was a queue for the lift. It was like being tipsy, even though I hadn’t touched a drop. I think I was giggling because he couldn’t get his hotel room door open.

  Paul: I was inserting the card the wrong way. That’s not a euphemism.

  Emma: When Paul finally got the door open, I remember standing on the threshold, knowing this was my last chance to leave. A part of me wanted to – but a bigger part wanted to follow him inside.

  Paul: I only realised later that everything with her dad happened while we were in my room.

  Emma: I know that people said I used Paul as an alibi, but it wasn’t like that. Anyone who says differently is a liar.

  Chapter Four

  Day Two

  THE MAD ONE HERE

  Emma: It was five or six in the morning and I was heading back into my hotel when I saw the manager coming towards me. We were in reception and he was wearing a suit, which I always thought was a harsh requirement, given the temperatures.

  I didn’t think anything of it until he said ‘Ms McGinley’. He struggled with the pronunciation a bit, so I said to call me Emma.

  He came right out with: ‘It’s your father’ and it was like walking into a freezer. I couldn’t get out a reply. He added: ‘Your mother was looking for you’ and then said something about the hospital.

  I couldn’t take it all in.

  I was trying to ask questions, but he said they were waiting for me. He was pointing me towards a car that was parked outside the main doors. I don’t know how long it had been waiting there, but I remember looking between the manager and the car, not knowing what to do. He said: ‘Go!’ and I asked if Dad was alive. He said: ‘I don’t know,’ and then I ran to the car.

  Julius: I don’t think Mum had her phone, but, even if she did, there was hardly any reception at the hospital.

  Emma: Someone who works at the hotel drove me to the hospital. The roads aren’t very busy anyway – but they were empty at that time of the morning. I tried calling Mum but couldn’t get through. Julius wasn’t answering either.

  It’s hard to remember what I was thinking at the time – but I probably assumed he’d had a heart attack. Dad definitely drank too much and he was at that age where you start thinking about that sort of thing. The other thing was that I figured he had to be alive, else we wouldn’t be going to the hospital.

  It was all a bit blurry when I got there. There were loads of burnt tourists hanging around the waiting room, or people looking green or grey from too much booze. I went to the desk and asked about Dad. There was a woman who seemed like she was expecting me because she beckoned across another woman – and then I was marched through the corridors. It seemed to go on forever, one turn after another, until we eventually got to where Mum and Julius were waiting.

  Julius: Emma seemed really… spaced out – plus she was wearing that same panda T-shirt from the day before. It was six or seven in the morning and she hadn’t been in her room when Mum had knocked. I wondered whether she’d been drinking.

  Emma: I’m not even going to dignify that with a reply. Was it Julius who said that?

  Julius: The first thing she said was ‘Is he alive?’ Mum might have nodded, but it was me who said ‘yes’. After that, Emma asked what happened. I thought it was a strange way to order things. Wouldn’t you ask what had happened first if you didn’t know? Dad could have been taken to hospital because he rolled out of bed – so your first question wouldn’t be ‘Is he alive?’ Why would you assume something was that serious if you didn’t know?

  Emma: I don’t remember what I said when I first saw Mum and Julius. I probably asked what happened. Julius then said that Dad had fallen off a cliff at the back of the hotel.

  Julius: I don’t think she said anything to that. She just stared.

  Emma: I’d braced myself for it to be a heart attack – and then it turned out Dad had fallen off a cliff. I’d have been shocked in any case, but, because of what happened on Galanikos the last time we were there, it left me stunned. I couldn’t talk.

  Julius: Mum started to speak. She said that a villager had found Dad on the beach below the cliffs. The first thing Emma said was: ‘Like Alan…?’

  Emma: It was impossible not to think of Alan. He was Dad’s original business partner until he’d fallen off a cliff nine years earlier. Then, the first time we returned to Galanikos, on night one, the same thing happened to Dad. How could anyone not be shocked by that?

  Julius: It felt a bit theatrical, if I’m honest. Emma was gripping a door frame like she was trying to hold herself up. I’ve seen better performances on daytime soap operas.

  Emma: Mum couldn’t meet my eye when I mentioned Alan – but I can’t have been the only one thinking how strange it was.

  Julius: I was more worried about whether Dad was going to survive.

  Emma: Mum said: ‘You weren’t in your room’ – and I remember feeling like I’d been caught sneaking out of the house as a kid. All I could manage was a simple ‘No’, but then she asked where I was.

  Julius: I’m not sure Emma ever said where she was that night. Not at that time. I found out later.

  Emma: I probably mumbled about being ‘out’, or something like that. It’s not like I was ashamed of being with Paul, but I hardly wanted to talk about it in front of my mum or brother.

  It’s not as if I had a curfew. I’m a grown woman and don’t have to ask for permission to go out. It was none of their business.

  Julius: Emma was being evasive about where she was, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. It’s only later when you look back and wonder.

  As for me, Chloe and Amy had been tired from the long day, the flight, and too much ice cream at dinner. I put them to bed and had fallen asleep with the TV on. It was sometime after that when Mum knocked on the door to say we had to get to the hospital. One of the deputy managers said she’d look after the girls. They were asleep anyway and I didn’t want to wake them.

&n
bsp; Emma: I’d probably only been there for a minute when the doctor came through. He said that Dad was critical but stable. He needed a machine to breathe for him and that, for now, there was little that could be done.

  Julius: Critical but stable.

  Emma: I have no idea what that means. If someone’s critical, doesn’t that indicate things are actually critical? I don’t know how you can be stable if there’s a crisis going on. If there’s a burning building, you’re either inside or out. There’s no middle ground where it’s a crisis but it’s not.

  Julius: Mum asked if she could see Dad and the doctor thought about it for a moment. He looked at Emma and then nodded towards Mum before saying: ‘Only you.’

  Emma: He said that Dad needed space and time in his condition.

  Mum stood up and said she’d see us later. It was like she was asking us to leave, as if she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. I would have stayed but it didn’t feel like an option. She asked me to look into flight times in case we were able to get him home, and that was it. I was only there for a few minutes. I reminded Mum that she was supposed to be resting too, but she shrugged and turned to go into the room. I think she’d forgotten that she had to look after herself.