The Rising Tide: the heart-stopping and addictive thriller from the Richard and Judy author(6)

‘Daniel stopped broadcasting before he sent his position, but the coastguard’s direction finder picked up his transmission bearing. Still took us a while to find the Lazy Susan, even with that. Those currents are strong and she was just drifting, seven miles out, sails packed away like they’d never been used. Our offshore boat got a couple of crew onboard with a salvage pump, but they couldn’t find hide nor hair of Daniel. When we relayed that, the coastguard bumped the priority. We left a crew member with the yacht and redeployed.

‘You probably saw the helicopter. We’ve launched our inshore D-class to assist. Clovelly and Bude have sent their inshore vessels too. Plus Tamars from Appledore and Padstow. Good thing is, the weather’s still holding. I don’t know what it’ll be like in a few hours, but right now we’ve a window. There’s a small fleet heading out from Skentel. Fishing boats, yachts – pretty much the whole town is mobilizing.’

Daniel in the water. It’s too distressing to take in. She shuts her mouth, opens it. Focus, Lucy. ‘How long, exactly, since he made contact?’

‘I didn’t hear the broadcast. But he wasn’t talking long.’

She looks at her watch. ‘So – an hour forty-five?’

‘There or thereabouts.’

Her throat tightens further. ‘That water’s cold, Jake.’

‘Your boat has a life raft?’

‘A Seago six-berth, bright yellow. Immersion suits too – enough for the whole family.’

He nods. ‘We’ve got the very best people out searching.’

Lucy’s gaze falls to Jake’s sweater. She recognizes it – a cream rope-knit from a decade ago. The sleeve has a small repair, which she made during a brief spell of lunacy when mending his clothes seemed romantic. Already, her ties to reality feel frayed. For a moment, the sight of those clumsy stitches throws her completely. With effort, she swallows. ‘Find him, Jake, please. Not just for me. He’s Fin’s dad.’

Again, her fingers reach for her wedding band. It’s a cheap thing, really. Some kind of base metal. Every so often it goes green and she has to scrub it to restore the shine, but she’s resisted Daniel’s offers to buy a new one. As always, in this relationship, items with little value gain it as they age. Her wedding band may have cost a song, but it represents something priceless. She still remembers the moment he put it on her finger; that sense of a puzzle piece clicking into place; gears, somewhere in the universe, quietly meshing.

All at once, Lucy’s back in her kitchen up on Mortis Point and time has rewound six hours. Fin sits at the breakfast table, bare legs swinging beneath it. He’s working on a bowl of Frosties. Open beside him is his Match Attax folder.

‘Mummy,’ he says. He rabbit-wrinkles his nose until his glasses sit higher up his face. ‘Eden Hazard has an attack of ninety-four, but a defence of forty-three. How can he be so good at one thing and so terrible at another?’

Since he learned to talk, Fin’s injected melodrama into every sentence he’s uttered. Just hearing him speak ignites Lucy’s heart. She has no idea who Eden Hazard is. When she leans over Fin’s shoulder, she sees what she thinks is a Real Madrid kit.

‘Everyone’s good at some things and bad at others,’ she says, as Daniel enters the room. ‘Take Daddy, for example.’

Daniel stops in the doorway, staring. His eyes are bloodshot. It looks like he’s fighting a hangover on top of a poor night’s sleep.

‘Daddy’s a genius at building boats and giving tickles,’ she continues. ‘He’s not quite as clever at kissing his wife and son when he sees them at breakfast.’

Fin snorts with laughter. But Lucy’s still looking at her husband and she knows her joke’s fallen flat. When it works, this pantomime jollity can fool anyone. When it doesn’t, it feels like everything in the world is collapsing.

Abruptly, Daniel jerks back to life. He bends over Fin’s chair and plants a kiss on the boy’s head. ‘Love you, buddy.’

‘You want some coffee?’ Lucy asks.

‘Thanks, no. Heading out early today.’

‘You’re leaving now?’

He glances through the window. Over Mortis Point, the sky’s so dark with cloud it looks like dawn hasn’t broken. ‘Thought I’d go down while it’s quiet. Get a few loose ends tied up.’

Her jaw tightens when she hears that. Because Daniel’s task, later this morning, will bring him close to breaking. If only she could carry some of the weight. ‘Better take a jacket. This storm won’t wait much longer.’

His eyes are still on the clouds, as if he’s searching them for something.

‘Daniel?’

‘Huh?’

Lucy raises an eyebrow, hoping to strike a more light-hearted tone in front of Fin. ‘Kiss?’

No response. She waits, head tilted. More of the pantomime.

At the table, Fin puts down his spoon. He looks at each of his parents. ‘Come on, Daddy,’ he says. ‘Don’t leave Mummy hanging.’

Daniel turns from the window and studies his son. Then he crosses the kitchen and kisses Lucy. His lips feel bloodless. Cold as the ocean.

She thinks about pulling him into a hug and repeating her vow from last night – that they’ll survive the coming storm, that their love is a bulwark against all the bad weather heading their way. Instead, sensing his fragility, she rubs his arm. ‘Listen, Goof,’ she whispers. ‘I swear this’ll be OK.’