The Survivors(9)

‘No, that’s okay. Thanks, though. It’s fine.’

‘Did you work out what the noise was?’ Olivia asked in surprise.

‘I –’ Bronte’s gaze flicked to Kieran and their eyes met, long enough for him to clock her expression. Uncomfortable, definitely. Maybe a hint of pity? That wasn’t unheard of, either. From the kitchen hatch came the sound of a pan being dropped and Bronte blinked. She looked back to Olivia. ‘Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was nothing to worry about. I’d just freaked myself out.’

She turned and headed back to the kitchen. Kieran could see Liam leaning out from the serving hatch. He murmured something as she approached and they both glanced back at Kieran.

The way I see it, you kill someone, you deserve all the shit that’s coming your way.

Kieran remembered Liam’s words, unmistakable as they floated out from the kitchen.

There had been a silence, the industrial fan droning angrily. Kieran had tried to walk away. Go back to the table, he had told himself. Go back to Mia and Ash. You don’t need to hear this. He had stayed anyway, just out of sight.

‘Sorry. The guy with the baby?’ Bronte had said at last. ‘That guy? He killed someone?’

At least she sounded doubtful, Kieran had thought. Wrongly so, but still.

‘Yeah.’ Liam was annoyed now. ‘Two people actually. One of them was my dad.’

‘Shit. Seriously?’ There was a stunned pause. ‘Oh my God. What happened? No, I’m sorry, you don’t have to –’

‘It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, obviously. But it was like twelve years ago now.’

‘I am so sorry, Liam.’ Bronte sounded like she meant it. ‘I was just surprised. He seems so … normal. Does his partner know?’

‘Yeah, of course. She was at school here too when it happened. It was the day of the storm.’

Kieran could hear the confusion in Bronte’s silence.

‘Look, it doesn’t matter,’ Liam went on. ‘It was this big storm, the worst in like eighty years or something. But everyone who was here then remembers it, and they all know what he did. They could all tell you.’

‘What about your uncle?’

‘Sean?’ Liam said. ‘What about him?’

‘I thought Olivia said Sean was coming here to meet them all for drinks, so –’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Liam gave a hard laugh. ‘They’re all friends.’

‘But –’ She was still confused. ‘– were Sean and your dad brothers, or are you related by marriage or –?’

‘Yeah, my dad was Sean’s older brother.’ Kieran could imagine Liam shaking his head. ‘But Sean has – I dunno – forgiven him, or something.’

‘Wow.’

‘Yeah.’

‘So everyone knows?’ Bronte asked.

‘Most people.’

‘But –’ A long pause. ‘I mean, why is everyone acting like nothing happened?’

‘Same reason that Sean is still friendly with him, I guess. People feel sorry for him. Not that they should.’ Liam’s tone was stark. ‘But they do. Because the other person the dickhead managed to kill was his own brother.’





Chapter 4


If Evelyn Bay had been quiet earlier, it was completely deserted as Kieran, Mia and Sean stepped out into the night air. They had stayed until closing time, with Bronte systematically clearing tables around them as other customers left one by one.

At 11 pm on the dot, the manager had wiped his hands on his apron, flipped on the harsh overhead lights and cut the music dead. He’d come out of the kitchen, clicking his long fingers towards the supplies closet and calling something back through the serving hatch. Liam had emerged in response, scowling and clattering a mop and bucket in his wake. He kept his head down, his bulk hunched awkwardly as he splashed water on the floor.

It had taken Kieran a moment to realise that Liam was deliberately channelling the dirty run-off water towards his feet as he waited by the cash register to pay. It was such a strangely impotent gesture that Kieran actually felt sorry for the bloke. He didn’t even bother to take a step aside, simply letting the soapy trickle seep across the tiles and pool harmlessly around the soles of his shoes. Christ, he could let the guy have this one, if he needed it that badly.

Sean had observed the exchange, his grey eyes flicking from Liam to Kieran and back again, before getting to his feet. He’d strolled over to his nephew, put a palm on his back and said something in a low, calm tone. Liam had continued splashing water on the floor until Sean had reached out a hand and simply stopped the mop. Sean was shorter and slighter than his broad-backed nephew, but right then, Liam had looked like a child. Sean leaned in again, using the same calm voice. Finally, his nephew nodded. Sean straightened and slapped Liam gently on the shoulder.

‘Good man.’

He’d let go of the mop handle and after a beat, Liam had carried on. Out of the corner of his eye, Kieran had seen Bronte watching, the cloth rag hanging limply in her hand.

At the door, Mia stopped to hug Olivia goodbye.

‘Do you want us to wait and walk you home?’ Mia said. ‘We’re going right past your place.’

‘It’s okay, I stay at my mum’s most Saturday nights now,’ Olivia said. ‘We do Sunday morning yoga together. I think the weekend drags for her a bit otherwise. Anyway –’ Olivia brushed a stray curl off her forehead. ‘That’s all fine. Ash’ll hang around, drop me off at Mum’s. But listen, let’s arrange something again. One night when I’m not working.’