The Holiday Home

30


Henry sat with his head in his hands as Belinda told her story.

Pru looked at her father. ‘Is this all true?’ A loud crack of thunder broke right over Atlantic House.

Henry didn’t move. ‘Susan had been seeing someone else. When I found out, we had a terrible row. She led me to believe the baby wasn’t mine.’

According to Belinda, Susan had stayed in Boston picking up the odd modelling job until she’d earned enough money for the air fare home. She knew she couldn’t afford the hospital bills if her baby was born in America. Back home in the UK, she’d decided to bring up her daughter alone, afraid that if she approached Henry for money he would drag her through the divorce courts and try to win custody of the child purely to spite her. For a while, she’d returned to modelling; she’d even found Belinda some baby modelling jobs. Returning to the Playboy Club wasn’t an option; the life of a Bunny was not one that could incorporate children. Instead, Susan had to rely on whatever financial help she could get from a string of wealthy boyfriends, some of them married, none of them interested in commitment.

‘Mum never had any trouble meeting men. Hanging on to them was a different matter. I think she always had unrealistic expectations.’

Pru frowned. ‘What makes you so sure Henry is your father and not one of your mother’s boyfriends?’

‘When my mother was dying, she told me everything.’ Tears rolling down her cheeks, Belinda turned to Henry: ‘She missed you. When I was growing up, she would never tell me about my father, but after she had the stroke it all came out. I found her marriage certificate amongst her papers and asked her about it.’ Defiantly she looked Pru in the eye: ‘My mum may have been a bit promiscuous, but she wasn’t a liar – and I’m willing to take a DNA test to prove it.’

Someone knocked loudly on the front door. Francis went to answer it. On the doorstep were two police officers. One a burly man of about thirty and the other a woman in her twenties. Francis ushered them into the drawing room.

The male officer, who introduced himself as Nick, questioned them about the events that had led up to Abi’s disappearance while the female officer made notes. When they were done, she asked for a photograph of Abi and immediately took off back to the station to get the details circulated.

‘The coastguards have been alerted and are coordinating search efforts,’ explained Nick. ‘But the weather’s not helping. The Met Office have issued a severe gale warning – there’s a storm front moving in towards Land’s End and we’re going to be in for a battering over the next few hours.’

As if on cue, a fork of lightning lit up the garden and a boom of thunder rolled overhead.

Connie, her face distorted with anguish, leapt up. ‘My daughter’s out there in this – it’s no use us just sitting here. We need to find her.’

Pru and Dorothy both reached out to her, wrapping their arms around her.

‘This may seem obvious,’ said Nick, ‘but have you searched the house from top to bottom? Is it possible she could be hiding in here somewhere?’

‘We looked in every room,’ said Dorothy.

‘Did you check under beds? In wardrobes? The attic? Kids that age, when they get upset—’

‘Let’s go and check,’ said Francis, waving for Nick to follow him.

Connie and Pru were left with their parents and Belinda.

‘So now we know why you two never married,’ said Pru in a dull voice. ‘You were already married … with a family. Did you know all the time, Mum?’

‘Yes,’ said Dorothy. ‘Or rather, I knew about Susan. Neither of us knew about you, Belinda. If we had, things would have been very different. Henry and I might never have got together …’ She clasped her hands together. ‘But we can’t change the past. It’s how we deal with the future that’s important. Our first priority is to find Abi. The rest we’ll deal with as we come to it.’

Francis and Nick returned. Everyone looked at them expectantly. Francis shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said.

‘Any outbuildings? Garden shed, greenhouse? Any neighbours she might have gone to? With all that thunder and lightning going on outside, she’ll have tried to seek shelter. Can you think where she—’

‘We’ve already checked The Bungalow,’ said Henry.

‘Jem’s at Dairy Cottage, so we’d know if she was there,’ said Francis.

‘There’s the garage and my greenhouse,’ said Dorothy.

‘And the smuggler’s cave,’ said Pru.

‘Oh God, please don’t let her be down there,’ gasped Connie.

‘There’s only one way to find out,’ said Belinda decisively.

‘I’m coming with you!’ Connie leapt up to follow.

‘Wait for me,’ said Pru.

*

The rain lashed at the three sisters as they hurried along the path, following the beam of Belinda’s torch. All three felt a lurch of hope when the thin ray of light hit the fortified door and they saw that it was ajar. They shoved aside the heavy door and ran into the stone room: the stacks of old furniture and garden equipment were illuminated by the light coming from the stairs leading down to the boathouse. Abi must have turned them on when she came in.

They made their way down the steps as quickly as they could. The sound of waves breaking against the cave walls below drowned out their voices. The tide must have come in a long way.

As they reached the last step and turned to enter the cavern, they saw Greg struggling to untie Abi’s Gale from its moorings with his one good hand.

‘Greg, what are you doing?’ shouted Connie. ‘You can’t go out in this!’

Greg looked up. ‘I’m going to find Abi.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Pru. ‘Look at you – you’re in no fit state.’

Belinda stepped forward and tried to take the rope from Greg’s hand. He whipped it away determinedly, all sign of his earlier drunkenness gone.

‘Get out of my way! I have to find my daughter.’

‘The police and the coastguards are out there looking for her,’ said Belinda. ‘There’s nothing you—’

Ignoring her, Greg turned the key in the ignition and the boat’s engine spluttered into life. As he took his eyes off Belinda to turn the boat around, she leapt wildly and landed on her knees on the slippery-planked bottom. ‘I’m coming with you,’ she said. ‘There’s no way you can manage with one hand.’

Barely able to hear her above the roar of the engine and the crashing of the waves, Greg nodded his assent.

Leaving Connie and Prudence shouting after them on the small jetty, Belinda and Greg set off down the cavern towards the sea. The waves were rolling in on large unbreaking peaks, tossing the rubber hull of the boat as if it were a toy.

‘I’m scared, Greg,’ cried Belinda. ‘Please. Turn us round. Go back.’

Greg had struggled out of his sling and was trying to use his broken arm to grip the wheel for extra leverage as he circumnavigated the bend in the cave.

Suddenly they could see the ocean, black and angry against the swirl of dark clouds scudding over a waning moon.

And then a voice cried out:

‘Daddy! Help! I’m here.’

As the navigation lights illuminated the cave wall to their right, they saw Abi, clinging to a tiny ledge about half a metre above the maelstrom. Unable to walk on into the cave and up to the house, she had been overcome by the tide as it poured into the cave. She had climbed the rocks as high as she could with her damaged ankle, but the effort had left her exhausted.

‘Daddy, I’m so frightened. Help me.’

‘I’m coming, Abi!’ yelled Greg. ‘I’ll try to get underneath you. Be ready to jump when I tell you to.’

She nodded. Terrified, wet through, her teeth chattering from cold and shock, it was all she could do to cling on.

Belinda joined Greg at the wheel. He yelled instructions in her ear, guiding her to steer the boat out of the cave and into the open sea so they’d have space in which to turn. Battling against the wind, and with the rain whipping into her face and eyes, Belinda wrestled with the wheel while Greg controlled the throttle. It was all she could do to hold the boat steady. The moment there was a lull between waves, Greg pushed the throttle forward, sending the boat back into the cave.

‘Get ready, Abi,’ he yelled. Guiding Belinda’s hand to the throttle, he told her, ‘Hold tight, keep her steady – whatever you do, don’t let go.’ And then he moved into position to catch Abi, bracing his broken arm against the bar to steady himself while he held out his good hand to the stricken Abi.

‘One, two, three …’ he shouted. ‘JUMP!’

As he said the word, another flash of lightning split the sky, blinding them.

Greg and Belinda could hear nothing above the waves and the wind and the engine, but they knew Abi hadn’t landed in the boat. They would have felt the weight of her landing.

It took a moment for their vision to adjust. When they looked up to the rock ledge, now on their left, they saw that it was empty. Greg immediately reached over and turned the engine off. If Abi was in the water, she would be in danger from the twin propellers.

Belinda looked at him, horror etched on her face. ‘Dear God, where is she?’

‘Shut up and listen,’ Greg barked.

There was a faint splutter to their right. Two pairs of eyes scanned the water and spotted Abi’s slight frame, her arm reaching out towards them.

‘Abi!’ cried Greg.

She tried to speak, but a large wave crashed over her, sending her down.

‘Abi!’ Kicking off his shoes, Greg dived into the freezing water.

Belinda could only watch helplessly as Greg swam towards the place they’d last seen Abi.

The waves were getting stronger all the time. With only one good arm, Greg was struggling, unable to keep himself above the surface, spluttering and choking as the sea flooded his mouth and eyes. Desperately Belinda looked around for something that would help. Grabbing one of the boat’s ropes, she hurled it towards Abi.

It fell just short of Abi’s reach and she disappeared under another wave. Belinda scanned the raging foam, willing her to reappear. As soon as she did, she threw the rope again, shouting, ‘Catch, Abi!’

This time it landed within her reach and she caught the rope. Belinda hauled on the rope as hard as she could, dragging the girl towards the boat. As soon as Abi was alongside, she leaned over and grabbed her. Abi was too weak to haul herself up, so Belinda had to hang on for dear life with the waves lifting the boat high and then plummeting down. Just as she thought her strength would give out, the RIB suddenly tilted at an angle that allowed Abi to pull herself into the safety of the boat.

‘Daddy, Daddy,’ she sobbed. ‘Where’s my daddy?’

Belinda looked frantically out into the waves, but in the foaming and crashing water, she could see no sign of Greg.

For what seemed like an age they desperately scanned the water for signs of Abi’s father. The tide was ripping in with a vengeance now, forcing Abi’s Gale against the jagged walls of the cave.

Belinda was the first to realise it was hopeless. ‘We need to get out of here, Abi. There’s nothing more we can do. We must save ourselves.’ She had to roar above the storm surge to be heard.

‘No, no. We must find him. We must.’ Abi was still desperately scanning the water. ‘I’m not leaving without my daddy.’

‘But look, the water’s going into the cave. I bet if we go back to the jetty we’ll find him there. Come on, Abi, help me get the boat back.’

Belinda hoped she was right and that Greg had swum to safety. If not, they would have to trust to the coastguards to find him.

*

As the boat pulled into its mooring, an anxious Connie and Pru fell on Abi and held her tightly. Pru had grabbed a warm blanket from the Dorothy and she wrapped it around her niece.

‘Where’s Greg?’ said Connie.

Belinda shook her head. When Connie saw the look on her face, she started to wail.