Luke had had enough of sitting in his van. He was stiff and uncomfortable after a restless night spent in the back amongst his toolboxes. He’d thought about trying to find a bed and breakfast, but had wanted BB to notice his presence. It had crossed his mind that she could call the police and accuse him of stalking, but he decided to take the chance, half expecting her to knock on his van as soon as it got dark and invite him in. Only she hadn’t.
He got out of the van and stretched his arms high above his head. It was a glorious day and he was by the coast so, with that in mind, he thought he’d make the very best of it before deciding what to do. Quickly finding a footpath, he set off, not totally sure where it would lead and pleasantly surprised when it opened out onto a long beach dressed with shingle and sand.
He tried to remember the last time he’d gone to the coast. It had been in early spring sometime and the weather had been pretty awful. He and Helen had almost been blown off their feet and had ended up taking shelter in a scruffy café, trying to make their hot chocolates last as long as possible. He remembered the scene now, how cold Helen’s hands had been but how warm her smile. She’d always loved the sea and now he wished that they’d had more visits out to the coast. How easy it was to have regrets when it was too late – to see all the mistakes, all the missed opportunities, all the bits of life you’d overlooked. Now, he wished with all his heart that they’d both skipped work now and then, called in sick and jumped in the car with a picnic and spent the day sitting in the sand dunes and paddling in the sea.
As Luke walked along the beach, he became aware of a woman up ahead of him. She was wearing a hat and had long dark hair and a large dog beside her. He probably wouldn’t have taken much notice of her except for the way that she kept glancing back at him and nervously picking up her pace. Luke looked around as if there might be something genuinely scary on the beach, but he was the only one there. It was him she was trying to get away from, which meant that she must recognise him. It was the woman from the castle.
‘BB,’ he said, breaking into a run. ‘Hello!’
The woman glanced back as he called out, but he couldn’t see her face properly because of all the dark hair and glasses.
‘Can I talk to you for a moment, please?’ He’d caught up with her now and her dog approached him, pushing his big wet nose into Luke’s hand. ‘Hey, boy!’
‘One Ear – come here!’
Luke grinned. He’d never met a dog called One Ear before. He looked up at BB, but her face was obscured by her hair.
‘I’m Luke – I called yesterday,’ he explained.
The woman was walking away from him.
‘I wanted to talk to you about Helen.’
‘I don’t know you,’ the woman called back.
‘I’m Luke. Luke Hansard. Helen’s husband. She was your friend on Galleria.’
‘You’re scaring me!’
‘I don’t mean to scare you. Really. I just want to tell you about Helen.’
‘Don’t come near me!’ Her voice was high-pitched and full of fear.
Luke stopped walking and watched as the woman moved on, clumsily stumbling up a shingle bank away from him. What on earth was she so afraid of? Luke didn’t think he was particularly scary-looking, but it was no good. She seemed genuinely terrified of him and he didn’t want to go on torturing her like this. He sighed. His trip to Suffolk had been a complete waste of time and yet there was a part of him – the part that was still connected so wholly to Helen – that needed to tell this woman what had happened.
‘She died!’ he shouted after BB. ‘Helen died.’
He swayed a little, shocked by the reality of hearing the words. He hadn’t actually had to say them out loud like that before, other than telling his mother on that dreadful night. She had then taken on the burden of breaking the news of Helen’s death to their relatives and friends.
‘She . . . She died,’ he said again.
The woman stopped at the top of the shingle bank but didn’t turn around and then something strange happened. Luke felt horribly light-headed. The hateful words he’d shouted into the wind seemed to echo around his head. His vision was blurry now. He felt as if he was slipping away from himself. Helen died.
Everything went black.
Chapter 5
Orla wasn’t quite sure what she’d have done if Bill Wilson hadn’t been walking along the beach at that moment. At first, One Ear had thought that the falling man was some kind of game and had run around him, barking. Orla had pulled the excitable dog back and sunk to her knees in the sand.
‘Luke?’ she called, not getting too close.
Bill was running down the beach towards her, his little dog following close behind.
‘What’s happened?’ he cried, sinking down beside her.
‘I don’t know. He just fell. I think he might have banged his head. The beach is so stony here.’
‘Do you know him? What’s his name?’
‘Luke. But I don’t know him.’
‘Luke?’ Bill said. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Is he breathing?’ Orla asked, panicking now.
Bill leaned in closer. ‘Yes, he’s breathing. Luke?’
‘He just fell. One minute he was talking to me and the next—’
Luke stirred and winced as if in pain.
‘That’s it,’ Bill said, inching forward to help. ‘Now, let’s see if we can get you up. Nice and easy now.’ Bill placed his arms behind Luke to help him into a seated position and One Ear came forward again, whining, which set Bill’s dog off barking.
‘Quiet!’ Bill cried.
‘Back, boy,’ Orla told One Ear, taking her
