The Survivors(96)

By the time they reached the small supermarket, it was nearly closing time. Audrey was stirring a little in the sling.

‘I’ll go in,’ Mia whispered. ‘You keep walking.’

The streets were dark and mostly empty. A few lights burned behind blinds in front windows, but Kieran saw only the odd dog walker. Still all men, he noticed. He wondered how long that would last. He couldn’t guess. Audrey fidgeted, unsettled, and he was pacing the roads on autopilot when he slowed in front of Wetherby House. He had come this way without fully realising it.

Kieran stood on the grassy verge and stared at the wrecked garden. The lights from the house threw sharp shadows across the upturned earth, but other than that it looked exactly the same as it had earlier that day, when he’d seen Ash parked outside. There was no sign of him now. Kieran jumped a little as he sensed movement, and looked around. He half-expected to see Ash loitering in what was left of the greenery, but instead, the front door creaked open and G.R. Barlin appeared in the frame.

‘Sorry,’ Kieran called, raising a hand. ‘Just us.’

‘Hang on.’ George disappeared back inside, then returned, holding something under his arm as he pulled the door shut behind him. ‘When I saw you, I thought your mate was back for a second.’

‘No.’

‘You have the same build in the dark.’ George smiled at Audrey. ‘Baby’s a bit of a giveaway, though.’ He held a bag of books over the fence. ‘For Mia. Some of mine, some others that she might like.’

‘Oh.’ Surprised, Kieran reached for the bag. ‘Thank you.’

‘Kind of an apology on my part as well.’ George shook his head. ‘Pendlebury stopped by earlier. I didn’t realise I was stirring up trouble with those storm timings. I thought it was interesting, that was all.’

‘Interesting is definitely one way to put it,’ Kieran said. He managed a smile. ‘I’m grateful to you, though. Knowing makes a big difference. For me, anyway.’

‘Good to hear.’

‘Why were you looking into it anyway? You’re not writing about that, are you?’

‘God, no.’ George frowned. ‘The new one’s about biological warfare in a near-futuristic dystopia.’

‘Ah.’

‘Yeah.’ George shrugged. ‘The storm was just something I was reading about on the side.’ He was quiet as he glanced down at baby Audrey. ‘I’m having some custody issues. Personal stuff. My wife – ex-wife – is overseas. It makes things complicated. Legally, and otherwise.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It is what it is. I don’t really like to go into it. But it’s a bit like the landscaping, and the diving, sometimes I need a distraction. Then this terrible thing happened to Bronte.’ George shook his head. ‘I don’t know. It’s not how I expected things to be down here.’

He leaned on the fence as they both surveyed the black upturned soil. Kieran remembered Bronte’s photos and imagined her, alive and vibrant, walking past this very spot, camera in hand as she headed towards the cliff trail. All at once, something itched in the back of his mind, hazy and elusive. He frowned and looked back at the garden. ‘What’s the plan for all this, anyway?’

George scratched his chin. ‘You know, I’m honestly not too sure. The landscaper gives me an invoice every few weeks and I pay it. I should probably ask him. It seemed like a good idea when I moved in, modernise it a bit, make it my own, you know? But now –’ He shrugged. ‘If I’d realised it was going to be such a pain in the arse, I would have left it alone. It’s been more trouble than it’s worth.’

Kieran looked up the street towards the cliff path. Ash’s dirty white ute was nowhere to be seen. The neighbouring houses stood silent, set back from the road with their blinds shut. The niggling feeling remained. He turned back to the excavated garden, its destruction nearly complete. Kieran hesitated, then opened his mouth.

‘You found anything interesting in there?’ His voice was oddly light, even to his own ears.

George’s eyes flicked over in the dark. ‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know,’ Kieran said. ‘Anything.’

‘The body of Gabby Birch buried in the flowerbeds your mate dug all alone by hand twelve years ago?’

The only sound was the purr of a single passing car.

‘No,’ Kieran said quickly as the road fell quiet again. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘Wasn’t it?’ The writer looked a tiny bit amused. ‘This whole time you never once thought that might be what was going on here?’

Kieran didn’t answer.

‘Don’t worry.’ George gave him a knowing smile. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’ He paused. ‘Ash was here this morning actually. He apologised.’

‘Really?’ Kieran couldn’t hide his surprise.

‘Yeah. Or at least I think that’s what he was getting at. I did, too.’ George surveyed the patch of the garden still to be dug up. ‘I’ve been wondering if maybe he and I could work something out with this. I suspect Ash might actually know what he’s doing more than my current guy.’

‘I don’t think you’d be sorry,’ Kieran said. ‘You two would probably get along pretty well if you gave each other a chance. Ash is a good bloke when he wants to be.’