The Survivors(12)

‘I don’t know,’ he said, meaning it. ‘What did you think?’

‘I just hope he doesn’t mess her around.’

He won’t, Kieran was about to say, then stopped. It was Ash. He might.

‘Did you notice the way –?’ Mia started, then stopped, hearing the low rumble at the same time as Kieran did.

He realised what it was a split second before the car tore around the corner, the rumble becoming a roar as it careered towards them, headlights on full beam.

‘Shit, watch out.’

Kieran put his arm out for Mia, but she was already off the road, the small of her back pressed against someone’s garden fence. He felt the rush of wind as the car shrieked past, shrill and bright in the still of the night. It hadn’t come close to touching them, but Kieran’s heart was pumping and his head tingled with a rush of blood. He could feel Mia’s pulse pounding against his arm. He pictured Audrey sleeping in her cot at home, and thought about what could have happened, and felt faintly sick.

They watched the car race down the road, the red tail-lights blinking smaller until it turned another corner and disappeared completely. It had come and gone in seconds, and the only sounds once more were their breathing and the gentle breaking of waves.

‘Oh my God.’ Mia laughed with relief. ‘What’s worth rushing for around here? There’s literally nothing in this town that can’t wait.’

‘I know. You okay?’

‘Yeah, it was just a surprise.’

They walked on. A few lights were glowing in Fisherman’s Cottage as they passed, but Kieran’s parents’ house was completely dark as they crept up the driveway. He let them in, nearly tripping over the stack of moving boxes piled in the hallway. Mia went straight through to check on Audrey, who was sound asleep in her travel cot in the corner of Kieran’s old bedroom. The door to his parents’ room was closed but Verity had left a note detailing how much formula Audrey had taken, which Mia glanced over while Kieran undressed.

Within ten minutes they were both in bed, the adrenalin spike from earlier having worn off, leaving behind only cloudy exhaustion. Mia was half-asleep even as she was saying good night. Outside Kieran’s window, he could hear the swell of the sea.

He closed his eyes and slept, thick and heavy. He stirred only once when, somewhere deep within his dream, he heard the sound of a door slam.





Chapter 5


Kieran was alone when he opened his eyes, squinting against the morning light beaming through a crack in the blind. The bedding on Mia’s side had been thrown back and the sheets were cold. He raised his head and could see that Audrey’s cot was empty.

The skirt and top Mia had laid out last night on the chair were gone. Kieran hadn’t heard her get up. He sighed and lay back, feeling both guilty and relieved. Along with the night feeds, Audrey had been starting her day before dawn for the past month and they tried to take it in turns to get up. He was pretty sure – certain, actually – that it was his go. He checked the time. After eight. No wonder he felt unusually rested. As a father – the phrase still sounded foreign to him – that counted as a luxuriously late start.

Kieran got out of bed and pulled on his board shorts and a t-shirt. His phone showed a text from Mia, sent earlier to say she was going out to avoid waking the whole house. He texted her back. Okay.

Out in the hall, he stopped as his bare feet crunched against the floorboards. He looked down. A light layer of sand trailed across the wood. It had been walked through at least once, the scuff marks still visible.

Had he and Mia brought that in last night? He could see his shoes where he had left them inside the front door, but he knew how the sand got everywhere. A broom and dustpan were propped clumsily against a wall, seemingly abandoned mid-task. From the kitchen, Kieran could hear his parents’ muffled voices. He listened, but couldn’t hear Mia, or Audrey for that matter. They must still be out.

Kieran reached for the broom. It wasn’t a big job, and as he emptied the dustpan into the bathroom bin a minute or two later, he grabbed an old beach towel. If he was going to swim, now was as good a time as any. He didn’t like to miss a day, and rarely had in twelve years, since the very first doctor at the hospital in Hobart had issued her stark warning.

Kieran hadn’t caught her name, but she’d come into his room, put down her clipboard and pulled up the visitor’s chair. She’d had short grey hair and the careworn face of someone who had seen it all before and could do without seeing it all again.

‘All right. Listen close,’ she said. Kieran had been admitted less than twenty-four hours earlier and was still feeling shell-shocked. ‘Because this is important.’

Kieran, lungs still heavy and aching, had tried to concentrate.

‘All this –’ She’d waved her pen at his body. ‘This will all heal. You’re going to be fine. So what I need you to do is focus on your head. Because that sends people back here more often than you want to know.’

The doctor had let that sink in before she spoke again.

‘People can react badly when they don’t know how to react to something. That’s true for everyone, but men in particular can very quickly find themselves in places they don’t want to be. I’m talking aggression, I’m talking family problems, heavy drinking –’ She had ticked them off on her fingers. ‘Drugs, sex stuff, prostitutes, violent porn. And you, Kieran –’