Her One Mistake(80)

She’d climbed onto the rocks, yelling out Alice’s name. The little girl turned around, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Alice, it’s me, Charlotte. Come this way.”

Gradually Alice took small steps toward her until Charlotte could reach her and pull her into her arms.

“Daddy took Mummy in the boat,” Alice had cried. “And he hurt Grandpa. He threw him to the rocks,” Alice sobbed as she pointed toward him.

“Jesus,” Charlotte cried when she saw him. She took a step toward the body, but didn’t want to get too close with Alice gripping her tightly. Reaching into her pocket, Charlotte had pulled out her phone and dialed 911. “Ambulance and police,” she’d said urgently when the call was answered.

The police and paramedics had turned up, and once they’d obtained brief details from Charlotte, had called for the coast guard. It hadn’t crossed her mind to ask for them, too, and she berated herself, hoping they would get there fast because already the light was taking with it her last dregs of hope that Harriet would be okay.

Charlotte talked to Alice, to drown out the noise of the two police officers and their radios, hovering nearby. “When the lifeboat gets here, it’ll go out to find your mummy and bring her back,” she said. As Alice hadn’t mentioned her dad, Charlotte didn’t either. “Now, tell me about what you did in Cornwall.” She tried to keep their minds occupied even though her own kept drifting to Harriet.

She’d told the police Harriet couldn’t swim. Had shouted it to them as they made their call to the coast guard. Alice had looked up at Charlotte strangely and she’d told the little girl not to worry, that her mummy would be fine. She should never have said anything in front of her.

But Alice continued to look at her, puzzling over something.

“What is it?” she’d asked. But Alice had shrugged and didn’t answer, so she didn’t pursue it.

“I don’t want Grandpa to die.” Alice’s voice was so small she could barely hear it. Charlotte couldn’t get the image of his body out of her head, skewed at an angle it definitely shouldn’t have been.

She looked at the paramedics and wondered what was happening, then at the policemen, who’d question her shortly. And when they did, she’d have no choice but to tell them the truth.





HARRIET


Brian’s face was screwed tight as he steered the boat into the darkness. I’d thought it was rage that drove him, but each time he turned I caught glimpses of his eyes that were now nothing more than dead, black holes.

There was nothing left of him. An empty carcass of the man I’d met, the one I’d allowed to control me since. Brian knew he’d lost me, but this meant he had nothing left to lose.

My poor, tragic husband. So coiled up in his own world where there was no room for anything but me. Not even Alice. His own daughter came nowhere close to the so-called love he had for me. I’d seen that tonight.

I needed to at least try and talk him down from whatever he was planning. Though I doubted even he knew what that was.

“Brian,” I said gently, arching my back as I bent my knees beneath me. “I don’t think you want to hurt me, you love me too much for that.”

“Love?” He laughed softly. His shoulders tensed as his right hand curled around the edge of the boat. “There’s no love left,” he said quietly, his focus fixed on the horizon ahead of us.

“What are you planning to do?”

“Shut up, Harriet.” His body tightened, his hand gripped harder onto the side.

“I know you don’t want to lose me,” I said, figuring he’d had his chance to call the police at any point in the last twenty-four hours. Brian could have already made sure I’d pay for what I’d done, he could have had me locked up and away from Alice, just like he was always telling me.

Only I knew now he wouldn’t have done that. He didn’t want Alice without me. Taking my daughter away from me was never more than a threat to ensure I stayed with him.

I could no longer make out any figures on the beach, but as the blue lights lit in the sky I knew help must’ve arrived. It was a relief that my dad would be taken care of, though I also knew the police would be questioning Charlotte. They’d know what I’d done by now.

I slumped against the side of the boat. Was it all over?

I couldn’t let it be. I had to find strength from somewhere.

“Brian,” I started, “we need to go back for Alice.”

“I told you to stop talking,” he snapped.

“I know you love her,” I went on. Not in the way you’d want your child to be loved, but still I was certain he didn’t want to hurt her. “Imagine how scared she must be.”

“I said shut up.” He swung around to face me. The boat tipped to one side, rooting Brian to the spot, and I saw his fear again—the precariousness of balancing on the water he so dreaded. “Don’t say another word,” he hissed, slowly turning back toward the horizon.

I didn’t speak. Instead I crawled deeper into my side of the boat and watched him closely, imagining the sensation our situation had caused. The franticness of the officers and paramedics on the beach, the questioning, putting it all together. In contrast, it was entirely peaceful out at sea.

We continued to drift farther away into nothing. I no longer looked back. I told myself a lifeboat would soon be on its way. Shortly it would race into the water, gathering speed as it approached. Would they reach us in time?