My Sister's Bones(96)

‘You said you saw him,’ I say gently. ‘Where was he?’

‘He was . . . he was floating face down in the water about ten feet from where you were,’ says Ray. ‘When I saw him I rowed like the clappers. I looked up at the beach and saw your mum running towards you. You put your hand out to her. I think you were showing her your shell.’

Mummy, look . . . it’s heart-shaped.

The memory burns in my chest as I sit at this sticky table waiting to hear what comes next.

‘Your mum called out David’s name and I looked up,’ says Ray. ‘I was expecting to see her running but she was just standing there, stock-still, looking out on to the water.’

Mummy, look . . . look at the shell.

I see my mother standing looking out to sea. Something’s the matter. Why is she not moving? She’s like a statue. I follow her gaze and see my brother floating on the surface of the water. And I remember now the sense of urgency that has stayed with me my whole life, the feeling that someone is in danger and I have to go and help.

‘It was you that ran,’ says Ray, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Not your mum. As I rowed I could see you running through the waves, trying to get to your brother. Your mother stayed where she was. It was like she was in a trance.’

Mummy, look . . .

‘When I got near I couldn’t see the little lad any more. It was just you sitting in the shallows. I jumped out of the boat and ran to you and that’s . . . that’s when I saw . . .’

‘What?’ I cry, my hands trembling. ‘What did you see, Ray?’

Tears are coursing down his cheeks and he swipes his gnarled red hand across his face.

‘He was in your arms,’ he whispers. ‘And when you saw me you said . . .’

He pauses to wipe his eyes again.

‘You said: “I’m trying to keep him warm.”’

He takes my hand and squeezes it tightly.

‘You thought you’d saved him.’

My body goes cold.

‘So it’s not true then?’ I stammer. ‘I – I didn’t drown my brother?’

‘No, Kate,’ he says, looking at me clear in the eyes. ‘You never drowned him. I had a view of it all and I saw him face down in that water minutes before you got to him. You didn’t drown him, love, you brought him back to shore.’

I nod my head as the enormity of his words begins to sink in.

‘Then why?’ I say. ‘Why would my father tell Sally that I did?’

Ray shakes his head.

‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘I told your old man exactly what happened. I told him about your mum standing frozen on the beach – we found out later she was in deep shock, it can do that you know, make you immobile – and I told him that you’d run through the waves and got to David first. I told him how you had him in your arms and that you said you were keeping him warm. But your dad, he was a troubled man, Kate. Your brother’s death was senseless and he needed someone to blame. He took what I’d told him and it got all jumbled and warped in his mind, I guess.’

‘So Dad chose to believe that I drowned David while Mum just stood and watched,’ I say, shivering as I remember the venom on my father’s face whenever he looked at Mum or me.

‘As I said,’ says Ray softly, ‘he was a troubled man.’

We sit for a moment, not speaking, barely breathing, as the past flutters then settles around us.

‘Thank you, Ray,’ I say, puncturing the silence. ‘Thank you for being there.’

‘You don’t have to thank me,’ he says. ‘All I want is to see you happy; to put all this heartache behind you and go and live your life. There’s been too much pain in your family. Make it end, eh?’

I nod my head and we sit in silence for what seems like a lifetime.

‘I’d better go,’ I say finally as I get up from the table. ‘I’m leaving with Sally’s daughter and grandson.’

‘Good,’ he says, smiling warmly. ‘A new start is what you all need. But before you go I want to say something.’

‘Okay,’ I say, sitting down again.

‘What happened that day at the beach was the worst thing I have ever lived through. Laying your little brother out in my boat and desperately trying to revive him . . . I had nightmares for months afterwards. Horrible nightmares that wouldn’t leave me alone.’

He has had the nightmares too. I understand.

‘But do you know what eased them?’ he says, pressing his hand into mine. ‘Do you know what got me through?’

I shake my head.

‘It was the memory of those few minutes,’ he says. ‘When the sun was shining and I’d just set up my line and I heard the sound of laughter. And it reassured me to know that in his final moments David was happy; he was playing in the waves with his big sister.’

Tears run down my face as I stand up from the table.

Ray gets up and hugs me. He hugs me like my father should have all those years ago.

‘They will stop,’ he whispers. ‘The nightmares. I promise you they will.’

I leave Ray in the cafe and make my way out. But before I head back to the hospital I stand for a moment on the shingle and look out to sea. And as I breathe the last of the day’s air into my lungs and listen to the faint moan of the seabirds I feel something leave me. It is subtle, barely discernible, like the tickle of a feather across a sleeper’s face, but I know what it is as I turn to go. My brother, the boy I tried to save, has said goodbye.