The Rising Tide: the heart-stopping and addictive thriller from the Richard and Judy author(7)

He nods and walks to the back door. ‘Bye,’ he says, and steps into the early-morning dark without looking back.

Cold air licks into the room, fading like smoke.

‘Shall I tell you a story, Mummy? This one’s very interesting. Yesterday, we had a new girl in our class. Her name was Jessica.’

Lucy stares at the back door. Outside, she hears the diesel clatter of Daniel’s Volvo. I love you, she should have said. None of this is your fault.

‘And do you know what else, Mummy? Last year we had a girl leave our class. And do you know what her name was? Do you know, Mummy?’

Lucy touches her lips where Daniel’s mouth left its mark. Something in her chest quivers. Strange, how all her breath is in her throat.

‘Her name was Jessica too. We swapped one Jessica for another Jessica. The old Jessica left, and a new Jessica took her place.’

The Volvo crunches over the driveway stones. Lucy imagines Daniel behind the wheel, still wearing that vacant look. It feels, recently, like Fin’s anecdote happened to the man she loves. The old Daniel left and a new Daniel took his place. Only one person to blame for that, and it’s not her husband.

‘Do you know what I think, Mummy? I think they had to wait a whole year until they found someone with exactly the same name so Miss Clay didn’t have to write out a new locker sticker. That’s what I think, anyway, and that’s what I’m going to say if anyone asks me about it.’

‘If anyone asks you about what, Scout?’

That voice isn’t Lucy’s but Billie’s. The girl bounds in, barefoot. As always, Lucy feels like she’s viewing a younger reflection; her daughter shares the same brown eyes, upturned nose and square jaw. A neon-green T-shirt hangs off her shoulder. It exposes a strap of patterned bra and part of a dark tattoo. Her black gym shorts are cut to mid-thigh, bisecting another tattoo. A fabric band holds Billie’s blonde bob off her face.

‘Why’d you call me Scout?’ Fin asks, stirring his Frosties.

‘It’s from a film.’

Lucy rolls her eyes. ‘It’s from a book.’

‘Oops, I’m in trouble,’ Billie tells her brother. ‘Like that time you asked to dress up as Jack Sparrow for World Book Day.’

‘Jack Sparrow’s a cool dude,’ Fin says. ‘A booty pirate.’

Billie snorts with laughter. ‘Where did you get that one from, little man? No, doesn’t matter. My point was, Jack didn’t come from a kids’ book.’

Fin’s gaze moves from his sister to the window. ‘Did you know there’s a storm coming, Billo?’

‘Yup. I hear it’s going to be a real monster.’ She grabs her mascara bottle and plonks down opposite. ‘What they call a threat to life.’

‘Threat to life,’ he repeats, testing the words on his tongue. Then he munches a spoonful of Frosties.

‘After college, straight back home, OK?’ Lucy tells Billie.

‘Sure.’

‘I mean it. Weather’s due to hit late afternoon. I want you both here with me, baking or playing board games—’

‘Or hiding under a table,’ the girl interjects.

Lucy grins. ‘Or playing board games under a table.’

‘Or baking under a table, Mummy.’

‘Great idea, Scout.’

The memory dissolves. Abruptly, Lucy’s back inside the RNLI boathouse, shivering under Jake’s gaze.

He frowns, touches her bare arm. ‘Jesus, Luce, you’re freezing.’ From a peg, he grabs a yellow Helly Hansen crew jacket. He drapes it around her shoulders. She pushes her hands through the sleeves. ‘You want a coffee to warm you up? Tea?’

Lucy thinks of those cold Atlantic waves. She shakes her head. ‘I need to be out there. Doing something.’

‘Should I phone someone for you?’

‘Thanks, no. Look, I know you’ll do a great job. Please, call me – the moment you have news.’





2


Outside, the sky is noticeably darker, the sea marbled with white water. At the rail enclosing the entrance deck, Lucy looks down at the quay. The harbour is emptying of boats. Fishing vessels and yachts are fanning out past Mortis Point.

The Lazy Susan bobs beside the breakwater, salvage pump still spitting. Beth McKaylin, the RNLI volunteer, is standing on the breakwater’s inner wall. She’s talking to the coastguard, the harbour master and two police officers.

Where are you, Daniel? Where did you go?

All morning Lucy’s been trying to figure out how to save him. Is this his attempt to save her? To save their house, and Billie’s and Fin’s lives in Skentel? By vanishing into a storm and bequeathing them a pay-out?

She can’t believe that. Won’t believe it.

Because their house is just a house. And they can pick up their lives anywhere, but they can’t be a family without him.

Tasting bile, Lucy hauls out her phone. She often gets a bar or two of reception on the quay. Right now, even that has gone. When she peers back over the rail, she notices Noemie Farrell outside the Drift Net, snug inside a grey woollen poncho. Lucy calls out to her friend.

At the bottom of the switchback steps they embrace. Then Noemie pulls back. ‘My God. I’ve been trying to call. Where’ve you been?’