by Jane Casey
‘You don’t surf?’
I shook my head, amused at the idea.
‘Have you ever been sailing?’
‘No. It’s not really that easy to find somewhere to go sailing in London.’
‘I keep forgetting that’s where you’re from.’
‘I wish I could.’ I sort of meant it, to my surprise. It was good to be away from my usual world for a while. I took a deep breath of sea air. ‘It feels as if London’s a million miles away. Have you always lived here?’
‘No. My family moved here from Bristol about eight years ago. I’ve only lived here for half my life.’
‘Long enough to be a local.’
Ryan laughed. ‘No way. Your parents have to be from here before you count as local. And that’s at the very least. Grandparents are even better.’
‘So I practically qualify. On my mother’s side, anyway.’ I wrinkled my nose. ‘I still think you might know it better than I do.’
‘That’s why I’m the tour guide and you’re the tourist.’
‘OK. Get guiding.’
I fell into step beside Ryan and we strolled along the edge of the harbour. There was a slight breeze, enough to ruffle the surface of the water and make music from the ropes on the boats as they tapped against their masts. It sounded like hundreds of tiny bells ringing.
‘So. This is the harbour. I think it was once used for proper fishing but now it’s mainly leisure craft.’
‘Right.’ The harbour wall curved out into the sea and ended in a beacon. ‘Are we going down there?’
‘Only if you want to see the harbour from a different perspective. It’s not very exciting.’
‘Fine.’
‘Do you see the rock just beyond the harbour wall?’
I shaded my eyes. ‘It’s hard to miss it. What’s special about it?’
‘That’s where the town gets its name. That’s Sentinel Rock. Sailors used it to navigate into the harbour. The water’s pretty shallow here and the seabed is rocky, so there’s basically only one channel that’s deep enough for the boats to come in safely. Before there was the beacon—’
‘There was the rock. I get it.’ I grinned at him. ‘I may be a non-sailing Londoner but I understand that boats need to float.’
‘How’s the tour so far?’
‘Riveting. But I get the feeling your heart isn’t in it.’
‘Ah. You spotted that.’ Ryan shrugged. ‘It’s a good excuse for a walk on a nice day with a pretty girl.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘OK. We move on.’ He put a hand in the small of my back for no reason I could see. I moved away a little and he dropped it down by his side. We walked on for a few paces and I felt something touch my hip, then settle there, as Ryan draped his arm around me again. I looked down at his hand, then up at him.
‘Ryan, can I ask you a question?’
‘Go for it.’
‘Are you seeing anyone at the moment?’ I knew how he would interpret that and the grin on his face told me I was right.
‘Nope. You?’
‘I just broke up with someone.’
‘And you’re heartbroken? On the rebound? In the mood for a holiday romance?’
‘None of the above,’ I said firmly. ‘I was just wondering because Natasha seemed kind of possessive of you.’
He looked out to sea. ‘Ignore her.’
I persevered. ‘You were in a relationship, though.’
‘Not officially.’
‘I don’t think there’s any such thing as an unofficial relationship. Either you’re involved with someone or you’re not.’
‘Well, we’re not involved any more.’
‘What about last year? Were you seeing Natasha while you were chasing after Freya?’
Ryan stopped walking. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘It’s just what I’ve heard.’
‘From Darcy? You don’t want to listen to her. She’s full of it.’
I frowned. ‘I didn’t get that impression from her.’
‘She loves to gossip.’
‘So you weren’t keen on Freya . . .’ I said slowly.
‘I didn’t say that.’ He took off his sunglasses, squinting a little, but his eyes were steady. Honest, you’d have said. ‘I really liked her. She was beautiful. But you know that already.’
I blushed. ‘I never met her.’
‘You know you look exactly like her.’
‘So I’m told.’
‘Well, then.’ Ryan leaned in, staring at me. ‘It’s amazing. You’re really identical.’
I shook my head. ‘You’ve just forgotten the details. If she were here, you’d see we aren’t that alike.’
‘I remember her,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll never forget her. And you’re just the same as her. Even the hair.’ He picked up a strand of my hair where it had fallen over my shoulder and ran it through his fingers. ‘Just the same.’
‘I thought her hair was short.’
‘Yeah. She cut it.’ He let go of my hair abruptly. ‘I liked her more before.’
‘So you stopped chasing her once she’d cropped her hair?’
‘I still liked her. I just preferred her with longer hair.’ He laughed. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t chasing her. I don’t do that.’
‘So what’s your technique?’
‘I told her I thought we should get to know each other better. It was up to her whether she went for it or not.’
‘And she didn’t.’
He gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘It didn’t happen.’
‘Maybe because she didn’t like the idea of helping you to cheat on Natasha?’ I knew I was on thin ice but Ryan was so laid-back, I thought I’d get away with it.
He grinned. ‘You’re almost right – there was someone else involved. But it wasn’t anything to do with me. Freya was in love with someone else.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘She told me.’
‘Who was it?’
‘I didn’t ask,’ he said, sounding as if it was a stupid idea.
‘This is a small town. You can’t guess who she meant?’ I had a fair idea, and I’d been there less than a week.
‘Not really. I thought she was single. That’s why I told her how I felt about her.’
‘And you never saw her with anyone?’
Ryan shook his head. ‘But she seemed serious about him, whoever he was.’
There was no easy way to ask this. ‘Are you sure he existed?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, it’s one way to turn you down without hurting your feelings, isn’t it?’
‘I wasn’t hurt.’ His tone contradicted the words – he had been hurt, and annoyed, and it still rankled with him that she hadn’t been interested.
‘Obviously not,’ I agreed. ‘But Freya was a nice person, from what I know of her. She might have been worried about it – even if there was no danger of you being upset.’
‘So she invented a boyfriend to put me off.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ve got a heck of an imagination.’
‘Really not. It’s just a possibility. Aren’t you curious?’
‘Not as much as you are, obviously.’ Ryan frowned. ‘If you’re hoping I’ll tell you what was going on with Freya, you’re out of luck. I didn’t know her well enough for that.’
‘You knew her well enough to be sure you wanted to go out with her,’ I pointed out.
‘That wasn’t so much to do with her personality.’ He gave me a cheeky sidelong glance.
‘I know you’re not that shallow.’
He laughed. ‘OK. It wasn’t all based on how she looked. I did like her as a person. She was so different.’
‘From Natasha? I bet.’
‘Nats is all right.’
‘Nats is terrifying, quite frankly. Maybe Freya was too scared to get involved with you.’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘Maybe Natasha told her she had to put you off.’
‘You�
��d have to ask her.’ We had walked up the hill, back towards town, and down the other side, and now we were approaching the beach. ‘You can ask her now, if you like. She’s over there.’
Ryan pointed at a café on the seafront. It was surrounded by tables with blue-and-white striped umbrellas. Every table was full. It took me a second to spot Natasha. She was sitting in the sun, slender legs stretched out to add to her even tan, with two of her friends. She was wearing white linen shorts and a fitted top, but her main accessory was a scowl the size of a family car.
‘Oh no.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.’ Ryan put his hand on my back again and I flinched.
‘Don’t touch me in front of her, and don’t defend me either. She’ll never believe you’re not interested in me if you act like that.’
I had picked up speed to get past Natasha before I burst into flames from the sheer hatred she was directing at me, but Ryan put his hand on my arm and made me stop, then turn to face him. The two bimbos at Natasha’s table were murmuring to each other, openly staring. I recognized one as the girl who’d seen me on my first day in town, and the other from the seafront gathering.
‘The thing is, I don’t want to mislead her. It’s not fair to pretend I don’t like you.’ He looked past me to where Natasha was sitting and waved at her.
‘Is this a game for you two?’ I demanded. ‘You make her jealous, she defends her territory – is that it?’
‘By no means.’ He sighed. ‘Look, Natasha and I were together for a couple of years. It wasn’t an easy break-up. It’s my fault – I’m really bad at walking away. I’ve told her it’s over but I want to stay friendly with her. This is a small town, as you’ve noticed. I don’t want any hassle. It’s boring.’
‘Boring. Right.’
‘That doesn’t mean I can’t see other girls. I know Natasha would prefer it if I didn’t, but I’m not going to stop myself from going after someone if I like them.’ Ryan seemed completely sincere and I believed him. It wasn’t unfair, I thought, that he should get to move on even if Natasha didn’t want to.
And some unworthy part of me was pleased that I was annoying her just by standing beside Ryan. I put my hand on his arm, knowing that she was watching my every move.
‘Let’s keep going. It would be a shame to stop halfway through your tour when I’m enjoying it so much.’
‘You are?’ He looked genuinely pleased. ‘OK. Well, this is the beach.’
‘I noticed,’ I said, but I softened it with a smile.
We kept walking by the sea as Ryan told me all about surfing and why I should really try it. I enjoyed listening to him even if a lot of it made very little sense to me; I certainly had no intention of actually getting into the water. I liked to stay dry. At the end of the bay, the path snaked up the headland and disappeared among the trees that covered it. Ryan stopped at the foot of the hill. He was looking at it as if he’d forgotten it was there.
‘Do you want to turn back?’
‘Not particularly,’ I said, wondering why his enthusiasm levels had taken a dive.
‘There’s not much to see up here.’
‘There’s the view of the town,’ I observed. ‘I haven’t really seen it and it would help me to get my bearings. And there’s the view out to sea.’
‘Well, this is definitely the place to go if you want a view.’ He didn’t set off up the path, though.
‘Is there something wrong?’
‘Nope.’ But he wasn’t looking at me.
‘If you’ve got somewhere else to be—’
‘Of course I don’t.’
‘OK then.’ I looked at him curiously. ‘Should I go on my own? Meet you later?’
‘I’ll come with you. If that’s where you want to go.’ Ryan grinned but it was a pale imitation of his usual smile. ‘Can’t have you wandering around on your own. You might trip over a fallen branch or something.’
‘My hero.’ I began to walk up the path, feeling the steepness of the hill in my thighs and calves almost immediately. ‘Ugh. I’m so unfit.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
I ignored the remark. I’d come to realize that if Ryan was awake and breathing, he was likely to be flirting. Besides, I needed all my breath for the climb. I didn’t mind that the going was slow and the ground uneven. The sun was shining through the trees. The leaves were thick overhead but they allowed plenty of light through in narrow beams that made coin-sized spots on the path. Between the trunks, the sea gleamed blue and silver below us. Tiny insects hummed and birds sang in the trees, and I felt happy for the first time since I’d been in Port Sentinel. All the questions that had been bothering me subsided. I was actually enjoying myself. And toning my thighs at the same time. Bonus.
The climb was totally worth it, I thought, as the ground started to level out and the trees thinned. The top of the headland was bare, apart from a few gorse bushes. Someone had put a bench there to reward anyone who made it to the top and I collapsed on it, breathing hard. The view was incredible – the town spread out below, the sea dotted with small boats and a large container ship like a toy far out on the horizon. The sky was pure blue, with just a couple of wispy white clouds. I shaded my eyes, picking out the landmarks I knew and the places I’d been. I couldn’t see our holiday home but I was able to identify the red brick and ivy of Sandhayes. Will’s house was lost in the trees behind.
It took me a couple of minutes to realize that Ryan hadn’t joined me on the bench. I twisted round, looking for him. He was a few metres back, leaning against one of the last trees. The sunglasses were back and his face was like a mask, but his face was pale.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Really?’ I turned and knelt on the seat of the bench, hanging over the back. ‘Are you feeling OK?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You don’t look fine. Do you want to sit down?’
‘No thanks.’
If he didn’t want to go exploring with me, I wasn’t going to force him. He’d seen it all before anyway. I climbed down off the bench and strolled across the headland to see what was on the other side. Another bay, it turned out, but instead of a slope, there was a steep drop to the sea. The waves came in at an angle, churning and swirling around sharp-edged rocks. Even on a calm day the water was white-flecked and choppy.
‘What are you doing?’ Ryan’s tone was sharp.
‘Just looking.’
‘Don’t go too close to the edge.’
‘I’m not.’ I stopped where I was. ‘Ryan—’
‘It’s probably time to head back.’
‘Oh. OK.’ Something was upsetting him, that was clear enough. Maybe he didn’t like heights. ‘Thanks for showing me this place. I really enjoyed the tour.’
‘I’m glad.’ He peeled himself away from the tree and headed down the path, not waiting to see if I was following. Before I did, I cast one glance over my shoulder at the glorious view. I would come back, I thought. I would come on my own and sit in the sunshine.
And I’d find out what was bothering Ryan. If I ever caught up with him.
He was far too quick for me on the path. I took my time, not wanting to fall, slithering on the dry earth where the ground was particularly steep. Too polite to abandon me altogether, he was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill, and he wasn’t alone. Hugo was standing beside him, his arms folded. His expression was at least as disapproving as Natasha’s had been earlier.
‘Hey.’
‘Jess.’ Hugo sounded cold.
‘I’d better go,’ Ryan said. ‘I’ll see you around, Jess.’
I was starting to feel like I’d done or said something unforgivable, but I couldn’t imagine what. ‘Thanks again.’
He walked off with his hands in his pockets.
‘Well, that went well,’ I said cheerfully.
Hugo frowned. ‘I wouldn’t have thought he was your type.’
‘Oh, he’s totally not. But he
seems nice.’
Hugo snorted.
‘Do you two not get on, or something?’ I asked.
‘He’s OK.’ He nodded at the headland. ‘What were you doing up there?’
‘Just looking around.’
‘Was it his idea to take you there?’
I tried to remember. ‘N-no. Mine, I think. He wasn’t that keen.’
Hugo nodded, his expression lightening a little. ‘I thought he’d made you go there. For kicks.’
‘Far from it. I basically dragged him up there.’ I put my hands on my hips. ‘Am I being thick or something? What’s going on?’
I could only describe the look on Hugo’s face as pitying. ‘You didn’t realize? Up on the headland – the other side of it – that’s where Freya was when they found her.’
I stared at him, feeling stupid, suddenly chilled to the bone despite the warm sunshine. I couldn’t have known but I still should have guessed.
Hugo looked past me, at the shaded path, and I had the feeling he wasn’t really seeing it, or me.
‘That’s where Freya died.’
8
‘I KNOW YOU’RE above fashion but please, I’m begging you, try it on.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Oh, come on.’ Darcy was literally jumping up and down with frustration. She was wearing a short salmon-pink lace dress with a full skirt and looked like she’d just skated off the ice after a top-scoring short programme at the Winter Olympics. ‘I’d do it but it wouldn’t fit me. I know you’ve got an incredible figure somewhere under all that baggy material.’
I glanced at the dress she was holding up, then returned to cleaning the display cabinet.
‘Don’t look like that,’ Darcy snapped.
‘Like what?’
‘Like—’ She scrunched up her face.
‘The glass cleaner was making my nose itch.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Really.’ It certainly had nothing to do with the teeny tiny dress with its plunging neckline and bum-freezer skirt, the dress that I called slutty and Darcy, her voice reverent, called Versace. It would take a lot more than the one-two punch of Darcy’s bullying and flattery to persuade me out of my jeans and hoodie and into the scrap of black silk and sequins that she was waving around.
‘Miss Burman, will you tell Jess to try this dress on?’
