The Weekend Escape, page 23
‘We?’ Juliet asked.
‘All of us.’ Lyndsey kept her tone firm. She didn’t want any more arguments. ‘The more of us there are with torches, the better it’ll work. We want the best possible chance of someone spotting us.’
‘I don’t know if we all should go,’ Juliet started to say, with a worried glance at Amanda. ‘Maybe—’
‘I want to help,’ Amanda said. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, but a determined set to her chin. ‘I’ve been doing nothing all day. I owe it to … to you all. Besides, my ankle’s a lot better today. I put weight on it just now, and it barely hurt at all.’
‘You and I can bring up the rear,’ Val said. ‘I’m not going to be particularly speedy either. Slow and steady, remember?’
Through the kitchen window, Lyndsey saw Marne and Sonia leaving the observatory. ‘You folks get wrapped up warm,’ Lyndsey told the others. ‘Catch up with us at the harbour. Make sure you bring as many lights as you can.’
She ran into the bunkroom to grab her spare torch from her backpack. In her haste, she kicked over a plastic bottle and sent it bouncing off the skirting board. She glanced down to see where it’d gone. Her headtorch shone on a purple plastic water bottle. With a lurch, Lyndsey recognised it as Bobbie’s. Bobbie had always carried it everywhere with her, like a comfort object, as if terrified of spontaneous dehydration.
Lyndsey picked up the flask.
She was sipping from her water bottle all morning yesterday. Even when Juliet gave her a bottle of mineral water, she decanted it into her flask.
Lyndsey unscrewed the lid. There was an inch of water still inside. She sniffed the contents, but it just smelled of water, with maybe a hint of something sweet and almondy underneath.
Troubled, she put the lid back on and set the flask carefully onto Bobbie’s bunk.
Grabbing her spare torch and checking it was definitely working, Lyndsey hurried to the door.
‘Wait,’ Juliet said. ‘Are we all going? Even those two next door?’
‘I told you, we need as many people as we can.’ Lyndsey was losing her patience. ‘That means everybody. Everybody, and all their torches. What part of that is difficult to understand?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Jules, I don’t have time to humour you right now. We have to work together. All of us.’ She gave Juliet a steely look. ‘Hurry up and get ready. And wrap up warm; the weather’s horrible out there.’
Before Juliet could come up with any more arguments, Lyndsey left the bunkhouse.
On the track leading north, she spotted Sonia and Marne, on their way towards the harbour. Lyndsey broke into a jog so she could catch up with them.
Another rumble of thunder crossed the sky. Despite her best efforts to bundle up against the weather, the cold slapped at Lyndsey, reminding her that she still hadn’t fully recovered from her near drowning. Before she was halfway up the first hill, her lungs were aching. Each inward gasp of cold air felt like ice crystals forming in her lungs.
As she reached the top of the rise, the wind and rain hit her full force. It whipped at her body. Occasional gusts almost shoved her off her feet. The track was one long stretch of mud and water. In places, puddles stretched from one side of the path to the other. Lyndsey was glad of her waterproof boots. Even so, rain seeped into her collar and cuffs, and a chill, unpleasant dampness was spreading through her clothes. When I get back to the bunkhouse, I’ll need to get changed again. How many changes of clothes had she got through already? She doubted she’d ever be warm again.
Not much further down the track, she caught up with Sonia and Marne. Sonia carried the paraffin lamp, which was currently unlit, as well as her headtorch. Marne had a satchel slung over her shoulder, and she also carried a heavy industrial flashlight with a battery pack the size of a brick.
‘That looks useful,’ Lyndsey said, having to raise her voice to be heard over the wind. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘One of the previous wardens left it,’ Marne said. She hefted the weight of the flashlight. ‘God knows what they were using it for. They must’ve been really scared of the dark. Anyway, it’s been sitting under my sink for the last four years at least, so the batteries aren’t as strong as they could be. I thought it might be handy anyways.’
‘Good idea.’ Lyndsey had checked the batteries in her own torches earlier in the week, and had decided they had enough life left in them. Now, she wished she’d invested in fresh batteries. It was too late to worry about it, though.
Marne led the way. She strode along as if this wasn’t nearly the worst weather she’d ever seen. The dark skies overhead didn’t seem to faze her. It was obvious she knew every inch of the pathways on this island.
As they rounded the next corner, the Sound came into view, and Lyndsey balked. She hadn’t thought about how awful it would be to come back here. The wind pushed at her shoulders as if shoving her towards the water. The Sound was a black ribbon, flecked with the white crests of waves. Even from this far away, Lyndsey could see the churning currents that tore and reformed across the surface.
The taste of saltwater was on her lips again. It almost made her throw up.
‘You okay?’ Sonia had stopped to check on Lyndsey. ‘C’mon. We’re nearly there.’
Lyndsey took a steadying breath. Then she nodded, and forced herself to keep walking. She tried not to think about the way it’d felt to nearly drown. With every cold breath, she relived the awful moments when she’d been in the sea, with the waves pulling her down. The feeling of kicking out with her foot, expecting to strike the rocks below her, and instead finding nothing but empty water.
Her chest started to seize up.
You’ll be fine, she told herself. You can stand back from the harbour. There’s no need for you to get too close to the water.
Ahead of them, Marne abruptly took a left turn off the track. Lyndsey thought she was just going around a deep puddle, but no – she was striking off along a rabbit trail that wound through the heather.
‘Hey!’ Lyndsey called. ‘Where’re you going?’
‘This way.’
‘I thought we were going to the harbour.’
Marne shook her head. ‘We’ve got more chance of being seen up on the headland.’ She gestured with the big flashlight. ‘Better elevation. And it’s more open there. If we go down to the harbour, we’ll be hemmed in by the cliffs on two sides. You’d have to practically stand in the sea to be seen. Even then, Kitterland will be in your way.’
It was a good point, one that Lyndsey hadn’t really thought about. She lifted her gaze to look at the mainland. The curtains of rain hid much of the land. Off to the east, she thought she saw a glimmer of light, which could’ve come from the windows of an isolated farmhouse. Hope flared in her again. If we can see them, they can see us.
She set off up the rabbit trail with renewed determination. It made her feel better to know they wouldn’t be right at the water’s edge. She wanted to keep as much distance as possible between herself and the sea.
After a moment, however, she paused. ‘Go on ahead,’ she told Sonia. ‘I’ll need to wait here for the others. They think we’re going to the harbour.’
Sonia nodded shortly without bothering to answer. The noise of wind and waves was so loud they would’ve both had to shout to be heard. Lyndsey stepped off the path to let her pass.
Lyndsey didn’t have to wait as long as expected for the others. No less than a few minutes later, she saw two figures appear, further up the track. She waved, then hurried to meet them.
It was Juliet and Amanda. Lyndsey hid her surprise. She knew Amanda had said her leg wasn’t hurting anymore, but still, Lyndsey would’ve expected her to take longer to get here. Juliet must’ve hurried her.
‘What’s wrong?’ Juliet asked when they got close enough.
‘We’re up on the headland instead of at the harbour. We’ll be seen better there. Where’s Val?’ There was no sign of her on the track behind.
‘She told us to go on ahead,’ Juliet said. ‘She doesn’t want to admit it, but I’m sure she’s struggling. I wish she wouldn’t keep pretending she’s fine.’
Lyndsey nodded, although she was irritated. Couldn’t Juliet just shelve her opinions for five minutes? Now, Lyndsey would have to come back down to the junction here again in order to lead Val up to the headland as well. ‘Come on, then,’ she said with bad grace. She turned to lead the way up the rabbit trail.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Amanda asked.
‘Yeah.’ Lyndsey wasn’t in the mood to have another shouted conversation. ‘The others are waiting for us.’
‘That’s what I mean.’ Amanda glanced past her, but Sonia and Marne were out of sight. ‘How d’you know we can trust them?’
Lyndsey glanced at Juliet. It was difficult to read her face, since it was mostly hidden behind her scarf and hat. ‘What’ve you been saying to her?’ Lyndsey asked Juliet.
‘I just filled her in on what we’ve been discussing,’ Juliet said. ‘She needed to know.’
Amanda said, ‘I don’t like the idea of being out here with those two. I don’t think we can trust them.’
‘We have to get a signal to the mainland,’ Lyndsey said. ‘That’s more important than everything else. We can do our petty squabbling when we’re home.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Amanda said again. ‘We should stick to the plan, and go to the harbour.’
‘You don’t have to like anything; you just have to do it.’ The last strand of Lyndsey’s patience had worn through some time ago. She was sick of being outside in the freezing rain. All she wanted was to get this over with.
She stalked away up the rabbit trail without bothering to check whether the others were following. She clicked on her headtorch to see how strong the beam was. It reflected off puddles and wet stones. Apart from that, it didn’t give a lot of illumination, since the sun was still above the horizon, even if it was hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds. Lyndsey hoped the torch was strong enough to be seen.
If it doesn’t work, we can come back when it’s fully dark. The idea made her stomach clench. By the time it got dark, the Sound Café would definitely be closed, and the chances of anyone seeing them would be greatly reduced. Also, she did not want to come back again. She wanted this to work first time.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
SATURDAY
6:45pm
The trail led them to the top of the bluff that overlooked the harbour. With a start, Lyndsey realised it must be very close to the place where she’d seen the blue tarpaulin, snagged on the rocks, when she’d been in the sea.
At the highest point on the bluff, Sonia and Marne were waiting for them. Sonia waved when she saw the others approaching. ‘There are cars in the car park!’ she called. ‘We might be in time!’
Lyndsey shielded her face from the wind as she looked out over the channel. She found it difficult to raise her gaze from the eddies and whirlpools on the choppy surface of the sea. That’s where I went in, she thought, looking down on the harbour. That’s where the currents caught me. And over here is where they hauled me out. It didn’t seem like a very long distance, not from that vantage point, but still it made her shudder. A hundred yards out from the shore, the warning light atop the concrete bollard fought bravely to be seen.
When she finally tore her gaze away from the sea, she saw the Sound Café, with a handful of cars still in its car park. The big picture-windows along the front of the café reflected the grey sky, so it was impossible to tell if the lights were still on or not.
‘Can’t see anyone outside,’ Marne said. She was holding a pair of binoculars to her eyes. ‘If people are there, they must be in the building, or the cars.’
Sonia had already switched on both her headtorch and the big industrial flashlight. The flashlight was heavy enough that she had to hold it with both hands to sweep it back and forth in the direction of the café.
Lyndsey forced herself to walk right to the edge of the bluff and peer down. There was a sheer drop of about fifty feet to the water. The tide had risen since the last time they were there, and dark water swirled around the base of the cliff. Lyndsey couldn’t tell how deep it was, and had no desire to find out. Tendrils of seaweed rose and fell with each wave, like eager fingers reaching out for her.
She switched her gaze to the rocky cliff. Off to her left, maybe ten feet below the top of the cliff, she saw the length of blue plastic that Juliet had mentioned. It was battered and faded by the weather. As Juliet had said, it appeared to be wedged into a crack in the rockface. From this angle, it didn’t look anything like a person, and it was the wrong colour for the shape Lyndsey had thought she’d seen from the water.
She must’ve been mistaken. Her frightened brain must’ve invented a person where none existed. She’d seen a streak of faded blue and mistaken it for a familiar light-green dress.
You almost died out there. It’s no wonder you’re seeing ghosts.
Marne lowered the binoculars. She turned to look at the others. ‘Oh. Hello,’ she said to Amanda, with a faint air of surprise. ‘I didn’t realise you were with this group.’
Juliet frowned in either dislike or suspicion. ‘How do you know her?’ she asked Marne.
‘Marne was at university with Cherry,’ Lyndsey supplied. She was fiddling with her handheld torch. The lens didn’t fit quite right and had a habit of trying to pop out at inconvenient times.
Amanda took a step backwards. There was a look of confusion in her eyes. ‘I know you,’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ Marne nodded. ‘We met when—’
‘I know exactly when it was. You tried to come to my sister’s funeral.’
Marne blinked. ‘No, it was—’
‘Yes. I remember.’ Amanda’s initial surprise was gone, replaced by the first flames of anger. ‘You were one of the group that showed up unannounced at the funeral. Cherry’s friends.’ She spat the word.
Marne held up her free hand defensively. ‘Whoa, now. I don’t know who you think you’ve got me mixed up with, but—’
Juliet stepped in, placing a restraining hand on Amanda’s arm. ‘You were friends with Cherry?’ Juliet asked Marne.
‘No, I didn’t even know her. We were at university at the same time. That’s it.’
‘But you came to her funeral?’
‘I bloody didn’t. Why would I?’
Amanda was shaking with anger. She flicked a glance at Juliet. ‘You remember, don’t you, Jules? That group of girls who showed up to the funeral. We had to throw them out. Remember?’
Lyndsey frowned as she thought back to that day. She recalled the disruption at the funeral; Amanda screaming abuse at a trio of women. Had Marne been one of them? Lyndsey couldn’t picture any of their faces. It had been ten years ago, and she’d been wrapped up in her own grief.
Juliet’s gaze wavered. ‘Marne?’ she asked.
‘I told you, I wasn’t there,’ Marne said, her face set.
‘So how come you recognise Amanda?’
‘We met in the spring.’ Marne’s eyes darted from one person to another, as if searching for allies. ‘She landed her kayak on the beach at Kennaugh Bay, over to the west of here. I spotted her coming in and wandered down to say hi. It must’ve not been long after Easter, because I’d just arrived for the season.’
‘You liar.’ Amanda tried to shove away Juliet’s restraining arm. ‘Why would you make up a story like that? I’ve never been here before. The only reason you know who I am is because you pretended to be my sister’s friend. You made her life a misery.’ A look of fear crossed Amanda’s face. ‘Why are you here?’ she demanded. ‘Why are you targeting us?’
It was Sonia’s turn to intervene. ‘Amanda. I think you’re mistaken.’
‘How do you know? You weren’t even at the funeral.’
Sonia winced. The jab had obviously scored a hit. ‘I know. But Marne wasn’t there either. I mean, yesterday, when we arrived, she didn’t recognise any of us.’
‘She said she didn’t. What if she’s been lying to us this whole time?’
The accusation hung in the air between them. Marne seemed at a loss for words. She opened her mouth and closed it again.
‘Amanda,’ Sonia said firmly. ‘You’re being irrational. We—’
‘I don’t want to hear it, Sonia,’ Amanda said. ‘You’re always on someone else’s side. You never cared about Cherry, and you don’t care about any of us either. And I know exactly how you felt about Bobbie. It’s no wonder you wanted her out of the way.’
Sonia visibly flinched. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, but her words lacked any kind of conviction.
Lyndsey said, ‘This isn’t helpful right now. We need to signal the café before everyone leaves for the day. Otherwise, we’ll be trapped here for another night. All of us.’
That seemed to get their attention. No one wanted to spend another hour in each other’s company, let alone a full night.
Juliet nodded, although she didn’t look happy. ‘She’s right,’ she said. ‘She’s right, Amanda. Let’s just get this done.’ Lyndsey resolutely turned to aim her handheld torch in the direction of the café. In her peripheral vision, she watched her friends. Amanda was speaking to Juliet, her words urgent and barely audible. Juliet’s lips were pressed tightly together. She kept shaking her head and stealing glances at Marne.
Were we wrong to trust Marne? Lyndsey felt sick to her stomach. Has she really been lying to us since we arrived? It was too much to think about. We need to get a signal out. Then we can unpick everything else. But she couldn’t help but notice how her friends were now keeping their distance from Marne.
Lyndsey’s torch beam felt weak and watery in the dim light. She had to check it was definitely switched on. With care, she flashed the beam three times quickly, three times slowly, three times quickly. SOS. It was the only piece of Morse code she’d ever learned.
