My Sister's Bones(35)

And as he talks I am blindsided by a memory. We’re at Reculver beach. I’m searching for shark’s teeth while Sally builds sandcastles and my mother sits on a towel reading a novel.

I’m digging in the sand with my fingertips, waiting for the touch of jagged tooth, but instead my hand rests on something thick and hollow. I pull it out and sit back on the shingle to examine my find. The object is black and has a complex criss-cross pattern indented into its surface. I run my fingers along it, delighting in the rough, sandpapery feel. It is my treasure, my secret, and I sit for a few minutes holding it to my chest like a sleeping baby.

‘What are you doing?’

My mother is yelling at me. She grabs the object and runs towards the sea.

‘Bring it back,’ I shout but she doesn’t hear me and I can only watch helplessly as she throws my treasure into the waves.

‘You could have been killed,’ my mother gasps breathlessly as she returns to the beach and slumps down on to her towel. And then she explains that the precious object I’d held to my chest was a tiny bomb – it was most likely a remnant of the famous bouncing bombs that had been tested on Reculver beach during the war.

‘Bombs explode,’ my mother tells me, ‘and God help you if you get in their way.’

A few seconds later my mother has resumed her position reading her novel, while Sally finishes building her sandcastle. The incident is forgotten. But I can’t move. All I can think of is the bomb and as the years pass I will ask myself over and over again how it can be that something so beautiful and small can cause so much pain.

‘Such a shame,’ says Ray, interrupting the memory. ‘Is there nowhere she can go to get help?’

He’s talking about Sally.

‘We’ve tried,’ I tell him. ‘But she doesn’t want help. I went round to see her yesterday and she was in a really bad way. I tried to talk to her but she wouldn’t listen. She just got spiteful and started trying to make out she knew things about me.’

‘Oh yeah?’ says Ray. ‘What things?’

‘She wouldn’t say,’ I reply. ‘But it won’t be anything; it’s just her way of deflecting attention from herself. My dad was the same. He’d always get vicious when he’d had a drink and start doling out the insults.’

‘Hmm,’ says Ray. ‘You’re right. Don’t take it to heart. She won’t have known what she was saying. It’s very sad.’

He drains his tea and stands up.

‘Well, I best be off,’ he says, putting his cap on. ‘I don’t want to keep you. Just glad to see you’re okay. I’m an old man and I worry.’

‘I’m fine, Ray,’ I say as we walk into the hallway. ‘But thanks for coming over. With Mum gone I’ve no one else to worry about me.’

I smile as I open the door.

‘Thanks for the tea,’ he says, stepping outside. ‘And give my best to Sally, won’t you?’

‘I will,’ I say as I walk him to the end of the drive. ‘Though I don’t know if I’ll see her again before I go.’

‘Oh, do,’ he says, pressing his hand in mine. ‘Do try, Kate. She’s your sister. You can’t give up on her otherwise you’d never forgive yourself.’

I nod my head.

‘Goodbye,’ he says, taking his hand from mine. ‘Take care now.’

‘Bye, Ray,’ I say and I watch him walk away down the hill.

As I turn to walk back towards the house I see Fida. She’s coming from the other direction carrying shopping bags, looking like she hasn’t got a care in the world. How can she be so blasé when her little boy is suffering? I feel the anger boiling up inside me as I watch her. I have to say something.

‘Why did you do it?’ I cry as she draws closer. ‘Why did you lie to the police?’

She tries to push past me but I stand firm.

‘Come on, Fida,’ I say. ‘This is silly.’

‘No, what is silly is you,’ she says. She takes her bags and marches up her drive. I watch as she unlocks the door and puts the bags inside.

‘Fida, just talk to me,’ I call. ‘What is it you’re so scared of?’

She shuts the door then turns and comes back down the driveway. She looks furious as she stands in front of me.

‘Is it this?’ she shouts, pointing to her hijab. ‘Is that it? You think I’m up to no good? Well, you’re not alone. There are many in this town don’t want people like me here.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ I cry. I am horrified that she would think such a thing. ‘I’ve spent my whole career reporting from the Middle East. I’ve worn a hijab myself. That’s nothing to do with it. Now tell me where your child is.’

She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she says, throwing her hands in the air. ‘I have told you I don’t have a child. I’ve told police I don’t have a child. What is it with you? You think if I had a child I would hide it? You think I’m crazy?’

‘No, I don’t think you’re crazy,’ I say, lowering my voice. ‘I think you’re scared. It’s your husband, isn’t it? He’s the one doing this.’

‘My husband!’ she shrieks. ‘Now you’re blaming my husband?’