The Reunion

‘I spy a sailboat,’ I say. ‘And there’s a man on board wearing a yellow shirt. He’s winding a handle.’ I reach a hand out in front of me, trying to touch him in case he can save me, but I can’t reach. When I take the binoculars away, he disappears as if he never existed and the boat is just a smudge on the horizon.

‘Am I like that boat now?’ I ask. ‘People only know I exist if they see me with their binoculars?’ There’s no reply so I pan around, taking a close-up look along the coastline. The rocks leap out at me in furious and fast streaks of slick black and green. A gull flashes past but all I see are the feathers on its wing. Suddenly, it’s as though I’m down on the beach, watching the waves dance over the sand as they crash onto the shore. Then I see some people – three people! Something inside my heart gets hot, like I’ve caught fire.

‘Look!’ I shriek. They’ve got a kite – a red kite with a bright blue tail made up of a hundred plastic bows. I follow the string back down to the beach, where a boy grips onto the handle, grinning, with his mother beside him. They look so happy. I unhook the binoculars from around my neck, smashing them down on a rock. The vomit goes all down my new T-shirt and I’m dragged back to the car, listening to horrid swear words and being told that I’m ungrateful and selfish. I feel like the stupidest girl alive.





Chapter Forty





Callum switched the headlights to main beam. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but he wanted to illuminate the narrow lanes as much as possible. The hedges seemed to be closing in around them, with the matted gorse and weeds obscuring the view of the surrounding fields. ‘Stupid bloody girl,’ he said under his breath. Claire was staring intently out of the Range Rover windows, peering left then right. ‘She’ll probably turn up in the dead of night again, waking us all up.’

‘Sorry, love?’ Claire replied, winding down the window.

‘Nothing,’ he muttered, swinging the vehicle hard left.

‘Try to be a little bit more sympathetic, Cal,’ Claire said. ‘Maggie’s getting really worried.’

There was no doubt in his mind that the girl was a wretched nuisance. He’d planned to work on his research paper tonight and had an early clinic in the morning. The last thing he needed was to be searching for some kid he would never see again after this week. And even that would be too soon, he thought, clenching his teeth.

‘Let’s drive past the shops at the beach again. I want to have one final check.’

Callum knew there was no point protesting. Nick had also gone out in his car; they’d passed him about ten minutes ago. They’d pulled up alongside each other in the narrow lane, windows wound down, though neither of them had anything to report. Jason and Marcus were out searching on foot, knocking on doors in the village, checking with Marcus’s friends in case they’d seen her.

‘Mags, it’s me,’ Claire said, as they bumped along the lane. The phone signal was patchy. ‘No, nothing. Yes, I agree. It’s been long enough. And listen, don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be fine.’ She hung up and turned to Callum. ‘Maggie’s going to call the police.’

Callum simply nodded and drove to the shops.

Fuck.



* * *



It was 10.15 p.m. when a car pulled down the drive to Trevellin. Maggie was watching out of the kitchen window, praying for Rain to return or the police to arrive.

She dashed to the back door, catching sight of the yellow flashes along the side of the car, feeling sick to her stomach at what it meant. When Claire had told her what Marcus had said about Rain going off to the shop, neither of them had mentioned the obvious, the unspeakable. The similarities were already too horrific to contemplate.

A woman, mid-thirties, got out of the car. Her hair was cropped and she was wearing police uniform. She walked up to the house, looking around the courtyard, her face breaking into a cautious smile when she caught sight of Maggie at the door.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Maggie said, holding the door open.

‘I’m PC Steph Wyndham. My colleague has been held up, but he’ll be along shortly.’ She held out her hand and Maggie shook it lightly, introducing herself.

‘Please, come through.’ Maggie’s voice was fragile and choked. ‘I’m really sorry to have to call you out. Knowing Rain, she’ll turn up any moment wondering what all the fuss is about.’ She attempted a laugh but stopped. The officer was looking around the kitchen, frowning, deep in thought, making a puzzled face as if she knew something. As if Trevellin itself was the keeper of dark secrets.

PC Wyndham put her clipboard and radio on the kitchen table, giving cursory nods to the others present. ‘I understand you’ve reported a missing person? A teenager?’

‘Yes, my daughter, Rain. She didn’t come back from the beach with the others this afternoon.’ Maggie glanced at her watch. ‘It’s been over six hours. Look, I’m really worried about her. This really isn’t like her.’ As the evening had worn on, everyone had returned from searching and gathered in the kitchen, with Callum saying he’d been on to the coastguard again. No one had anything to report.

‘OK, Maggie. Let’s get things rolling. Is there somewhere private we can sit?’

‘Feel free to use the snug,’ Shona piped up, leading them through. The PC opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. Shona closed the door, leaving them in private.

It was much cooler in the little sitting room and the two women sat side by side on a floral sofa – Maggie perching nervously on the edge. PC Wyndham had her clipboard resting on her knee, pen poised. ‘What’s your daughter’s name, love?’

‘Rain,’ Maggie replied. ‘Rain Carr.’

‘That’s pretty,’ she said, writing it down. ‘So, you said she was at the beach this afternoon.’

‘Yes, Trevellin Bay. We’d all gone down for a picnic lunch. We’re all old friends. We’re having a get-together. A reunion. Anyway, the kids – the teenagers – decided to sit up by the rocks away from the adults. I went off for a walk at around two o’clock. I was gone quite a while. That was the last time I saw her. When I came back, she’d already left the beach. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.’

‘So you didn’t see her after your walk?’

‘No.’

‘How long did you walk for?’

‘An hour or two. I’d gone up and down the beach a couple of times, then carried on along the cliff path at the end of the bay, where it runs north past the row of shops.’

‘OK.’ She wrote everything down. ‘And what was Rain wearing?’

Maggie felt like falling into the PC’s arms – anyone’s arms – and sobbing until she was convinced everything would be fine. Instead, she let out a stifled hiccup. ‘I know she took her pink bikini with her because I saw it hanging out of her bag, and she wore her denim shorts to go down to the beach. She had on a pale-blue tunic top, I think. It’s decorated with sequins and has butterfly sleeves.’

‘Will you describe her for me, please?’

‘She’s beautiful.’ Maggie let out a longer sob. ‘And this really isn’t like her, officer.’ This was different to when Rain stayed out late at night. It didn’t feel right. ‘She’s about five feet seven tall. She’s got sandy-blonde hair about down to here with lots of highlights and waves.’ Maggie indicated around her chest. ‘And really bright blue eyes. Like her dad,’ she added when the detective stared at her dark ones. ‘She’s a slim build.’ Maggie bit her lip, fighting back tears. ‘Too slim, I sometimes think.’

‘Any distinguishing marks. Scars or moles?’

‘She has a tattoo on her ankle. And her belly button is pierced. I didn’t really want her to have either, but she just went ahead and got them done.’ Maggie rolled her eyes.

‘What’s the tattoo of?’

‘It’s on her left ankle. I feel a bit responsible, to be honest.’ Maggie sighed, remembering the first time she’d seen it. Rain had clearly drawn inspiration from the necklace she’d been constantly wearing at the time. ‘I can draw it for you, if you like.’

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