The Survivors(45)

Still, he felt a prickle of cold that had little to do with the cool ocean air. Above the cliffs, the birds were shrieking again. Kieran turned, strode across the beach and, arm tight around his child, climbed up the cliff path much faster than he had climbed down it.

When Kieran emerged a little breathless at the top of the path, he saw straight away that he and Audrey weren’t alone. He sucked in some air, buying himself a minute. The other person stared back, not happy to see him either.

‘Hi, mate,’ Kieran said, cautiously.

Liam was sitting on the safety rail, his legs dangling over the edge, his broad shoulders hunched and his face turned towards the sea.

‘Were you just down there?’ Liam’s eyes were a little red and watery, but it could simply have been the wind and the glare.

‘Yeah.’

‘No-one’s supposed to go down there.’

‘I know.’

‘The birds are nesting. You’ll scare them. What?’ he snapped, noticing Kieran’s surprise. He turned back, sullen. ‘My dad used to show me the seabirds.’

‘Oh. Well –’ Kieran stepped clear of the unofficial path and back onto the formal lookout. ‘Sorry.’

‘One rule for you, hey?’

‘My baby was …’

Liam looked over.

‘… unsettled,’ Kieran finished, cringing inwardly at his own excuse.

Liam rightly rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the sea. He was sitting close enough to the edge of the rail to make Kieran feel uneasy. The cliff was a notorious suicide spot, if three in twenty-odd years was enough to earn such a reputation.

Kieran looked at Liam now, balanced on the edge, and cleared his throat.

‘You walking back to town?’ he said. ‘I’m going that way.’

Liam gave a weird hollow laugh. ‘I’m not about to jump, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘I’m not,’ Kieran lied.

‘It’s not even high tide.’ Liam turned now and this time looked Kieran hard in the eye. ‘That’s the real danger zone, isn’t it?’

Kieran didn’t reply. He made himself remember the boy aged seven, placing a footy scarf on his dad’s coffin. How different would Liam be now if none of that had ever happened, and he’d grown up in the family he should have had? His grandparents – Sean and Toby’s mum and dad – had always been caring in their own quiet, reserved way. They had stuck it out in Evelyn Bay for two years after Toby’s death, battling with the daily reminders of their grief before they’d given in and moved far away to Queensland, settling in a town where the sea water was so warm and flat it was unrecognisable. Kieran knew Sean had thought about joining them for a while but by then he had re-established the diving business and was on the cusp of it turning a profit. Sean’s parents had left with promises to come back every year to visit their son and grandson, but had only managed one difficult tear-stained visit, after which it was mutually decided it was better for all if they didn’t make the trip to Evelyn Bay again. Kieran was still thinking about that when Liam opened his mouth.

‘You got with that chick in the end, hey? That Chinese one who used to live here?’

Caught off guard by the change of topic, Kieran blinked. ‘Mia? She’s half-Singaporean, actually.’

‘Nice,’ Liam said in such a way that made Kieran want to unclip his baby sling, place Audrey carefully down on the grass, stand up and punch the guy full in the face. Instead, he stood completely still and took a breath.

‘I’m walking back,’ he tried again, for a final time. Seven years old. Footy scarf. Coffin. ‘Come with me.’

Liam considered, then to Kieran’s surprise, he nodded. ‘Yeah, okay.’

He swung his legs back over the railing and jumped down. They were the same height now, Kieran realised as they began to walk. Liam maybe even had the edge. He shouldn’t be surprised. Toby had been tall. And Liam wasn’t a kid anymore.

They walked without speaking and it was only as they passed the fork leading to the cemetery gates that Kieran felt Liam’s eyes slide over.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me what happened on Saturday night?’ he said.

‘Do you want me to?’ The iron gates were open, the grounds beyond them still empty.

‘Everyone else seems to. I had to go in to the police station.’

‘I heard.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Liam kicked a rock and it bounced ahead of them down the trail. ‘That’s what you get for trying to be nice. I didn’t have to drive her home, you know. I could’ve left her to walk. But I didn’t, did I? Not like some of the others would have.’

‘Which others?’

‘Whoever. I don’t know. The dickheads over summer. That Spanish bloke that was hanging around.’

‘Bronte’s boyfriend, you mean?’

‘He wasn’t her boyfriend.’ Liam was dismissive. ‘She didn’t even like him that much.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘She said he would piss off as soon as the weather started to turn, and she was right. Same as those other bloody tourist blokes trying to impress her.’

Liam had been keeping tabs on her, Kieran could tell. He would have put money on Liam knowing exactly who Bronte had been spending time with during any given week that summer.