The Survivors(86)

‘Can we go in further?’ she said. ‘See what we can see?’

‘No,’ Kieran said. ‘Not with me. It gets like a maze. I don’t know it well enough.’

‘You used to.’

Kieran nodded at the names scratched into the wall. ‘I used to do a lot of things I don’t do anymore.’

‘Fair enough.’ Pendlebury flipped the tablet around so Kieran could see the photos once more. ‘Take a look at these, then. Is anything else familiar enough to pinpoint?’

Kieran flicked through more of Bronte’s photos, dreading each new shot.

‘The Survivors, obviously,’ he said. ‘And that’s the edge of the path at low tide. North Cave again.’ He was strangely aware of a faint niggle burrowing somewhere deep as he looked through the images, but he couldn’t dig it out. Something felt a little off. He skimmed through a few shots too closely cropped to recognise, then came to a halt at the sight of a familiar corner he had seen many times. The ledge in the South Cave, where he and Olivia used to meet. Kieran could feel Pendlebury watching him.

‘I know where that is.’

‘Show me, please?’

They both squinted in the light as Kieran led the way back out across the beach, this time to the mouth of the South Cave. As they plunged once more into the gloom, Kieran pointed at the photo on Pendlebury’s screen and then to the ledge.

‘Those shots were taken around here.’

Pendlebury walked over to the rock and ran her fingers over it. She dropped her hand and took out her phone, firing off a few shots of her own before frowning at the screen. She looked up again, noticing Ash’s name scratched into the rock above the ledge. She raised an eyebrow at Kieran, who shrugged.

‘Like I said, there are a few.’

His voice bounced off the walls before being absorbed and deadened by the sand. Pendlebury cocked her head, listening.

‘I can’t get used to the sound in here,’ she said, turning back to the ledge.

Kieran waited, feeling uneasy. Outside, through the arch of the cave’s entrance, he could see a wide strip of beach lying between them and the sea. Under his feet, the sand was firm. It wasn’t wet, it wasn’t covered with water. Everything was fine, he told himself. The tide was out, not in. They had plenty of time.

‘What’s wrong?’ Pendlebury was looking at him.

‘Nothing.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ Kieran pushed back against a rare wave of claustrophobia. The roof suddenly felt unusually low and he put a hand up to check it was still out of reach. ‘Sorry. I used to come to this spot a bit when I was younger.’

‘Before the storm?’ Pendlebury was still watching him. ‘On the day of the storm?’

‘Both.’ Kieran shrugged.

She was quiet for a moment and ran her hand thoughtfully over the cave’s rocky wall.

‘I had a friend. Have a friend, technically, although –’ She sighed. Started again. ‘A couple of years ago my friend and her husband were having a few quiet drinks at home on a Friday night. After dinner, they went for a dip in their own backyard pool. By the time she realised he wasn’t messing around, he was in serious trouble.’ Pendlebury shook her head. ‘Didn’t make it. She’s struggled badly ever since.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Kieran said. He meant it.

‘Thanks. It’s been hard. For her, obviously. But also watching her slowly self-destruct, you know?’

Kieran did know. He remembered it well, those first years after Finn’s death. Trying different ways to cope. Some worked, a lot didn’t. He remembered the keen sliver of hope followed by the overwhelming frustration of disappointment. The secret fear he was running out of things to try. And then, in the midst of it all, suddenly there was Mia. Appearing in front of him unexpectedly, a longed-for oasis of calm in a shabby student bar.

‘Mia helps a lot,’ he said. ‘And Audrey.’

‘And things with your folks?’

‘Well, they love me, obviously. But they also loved Finn. So –’ He wasn’t sure what else he could say about that.

Pendlebury had a curious look on her face. A mix of sympathy and something else he couldn’t place.

‘Kieran,’ she said. ‘I have to ask. What do you think happened here that day of the storm?’

‘What do I think happened? I was here. I know what happened.’

‘Of course.’ There was an odd pause. ‘So I’d be interested to hear it from you.’

Kieran stared at the ledge, and then he opened his mouth and he told her. The real version. About Olivia and how they used to meet up and lay their towels out in this spot. How one day the weather was bad, and she’d suggested they leave but he’d asked her to stay. So they had, but they’d let time slip away until the sand had disappeared under the water and all at once it was too late. He hadn’t been able to find the path. The sea had been stronger than he was. Kieran’s brother and his best friend’s brother had come to save him. They had died. And he had survived.

Pendlebury listened without interruption.

‘That must have been very hard for you,’ she said, when he finished.

Kieran didn’t reply. Sometimes sharing the story was almost a release of tension, but other times, like now, he felt nothing but shame. Either way, reliving it always left him feeling drained.