‘How… how can she be dead? She emailed me… she emailed me yesterday… she can’t be dead.’
I could barely make out her mumbles. I didn’t know what to say to her; I just kept on massaging her cold, stiff hand between mine. ‘Who would hurt her? She wouldn’t hurt herself, I know she wouldn’t.’ Her voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere else, mechanical, forced. She began to rock, almost imperceptibly, back and forth. She pulled her hand away from mine and put both to her face. ‘This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. I’m dreaming.’ She took her hands away from her face and stared at her delicate pink palms, rubbed one over the other, washing them in the air.
‘Darling, I’m so sorry, you aren’t dreaming. We need to get up – we can’t stay here now.’ Thoughts of a vengeful Alex – no, Liam – surged back into my mind. Did he know where we were? Vivian could have told him where we were staying. He could have been anywhere. ‘Vivian, we need to get back to the cottage, my love, I have to tell you something, we need to talk about something…’
She ignored me, still staring at her hands.
The weather was about to explode, I could feel it juddering in the air, static. A low, aching rumble of thunder spread out over the sea and the wind dropped away to nothing. The water went still, like everything was being sucked into the storm clouds on the horizon. I felt like my mind was fracturing: misery, anger, fear; a maelstrom of emotion that matched the brewing storm, that I couldn’t get a handle on. I had to warn Vivian about the danger we were in. I opened my mouth to try and catch the right words to tell her, I tried to put my arm around her, but she pushed me off.
And then it was too late and there was no time left for us.
‘Rachel! Rachel! Get away from her!’ The faint shout, the familiar voice, it rang in my ears, blending with the whine of shock. Then he was there, the mysterious boy who had so absorbed the last few weeks of our lives.
I was so angry at him. I jumped up, put myself between him and my daughter. ‘What do you want, Liam? Haven’t you already done enough? Go away!’
‘Alex?’ This from Vivian, eyes huge in her white face as she looked up at us both. ‘Mum, how do you… what, wait… Liam?’ Her incredulous words seemed to ring in the air. Alex – Liam, Alex, so many lies – stood in front of us, between us and the drop, and swung toward her, knuckles yellow on the clenched fists of his hands.
‘You remember me, then? You fucking remember, now?’ he hissed, raw and vicious.
‘Please calm down, we can talk about this,’ I said, trying so hard to be firm, calm.
‘I don’t understand. You aren’t him. You aren’t. You’re Alex. You’re my Alex.’ Vivian’s trembling voice as she used it sounded dry and afraid. Despite her denial, I could almost see her clever mind clicking everything together, so much faster than mine. I could still barely process the little blond boy of my memory and the dark almost-man before me. Lexie’s brother. Lucy’s son.
Here to hurt us.
‘You ruined our lives!’ he shouted, making small, jerky movements, shifting his weight from foot to foot. I had no idea what he was about to do, what he was capable of. Had he hurt Molly? Who else but him?
Vivian spoke again, more decisively than before. ‘I didn’t mean it, with Lexie. Is that why you’re here? It was an accident, please, I’m so sorry!’ Her face was crumpling, threatening tears, but her calculating eyes didn’t move from his face.
‘You are a fucking liar.’ Frothing spit gathered at the corners of his mouth. ‘You knew exactly what you were doing, you planned it, I know you did. You plan everything!’ I put myself between them again, shielding Vivian. I had to protect her; I had failed her before, I couldn’t again.
‘Please come away from the edge, Liam.’ I deliberately said his name again, forcing it past the fear in my throat. My mind was frantically trying to think of how to get us both away from him. I could barely take my eyes off the sharp drop, not five feet away. Why wasn’t there a fence? The waves had started again in earnest, smashing against the beach below, their power reverberating up the cliff to our feet.
He stepped toward me, and I saw some of the tension leave his body: his shoulders drooped. ‘I just wanted the truth. Even if it was an accident, it ruined everything, everything. I don’t know what I’m doing any more.’ He was shaking his head, glancing between us, anguished now, unsure. He suddenly just looked young, lost. ‘Rachel, it’s not just that, there’s more you don’t know—’
I interrupted him, trying to calm him further, my hands spread out between us like fans. ‘It was an accident, Liam. That is the truth. Vivian didn’t mean to hurt Lexie. She was just a little girl.’ I tried to inject a consoling note into my voice, talking down a panicked animal with soothing tones. It didn’t work. He shook his head.
‘No. You’re wrong. It wasn’t an accident, Rachel. She did it on purpose. I know that now.’ I saw him take a deep breath, tears starting in his eyes. ‘And I think you need to ask her about your mum. Do you honestly believe she just fell down the stairs? That
