Page 107 of The Rising Tide

Lucy passes the Goat Hotel, the Bayleaf, the tiny Norman church of St Peter’s. She thinks of its pastor, Luke Creese, and his words to her at the vigil:God doesn’t always offer us answers, Lucy. In this life, we may never really know why some things have happened.

She’ll never understand whythishappened. But she does know it has to end. And itwillend, today. Although likely not the way she hopes.

Lucy can see the harbour now; the lifeboat station and breakwater wall. At least she doesn’t have to look at theLazy Susan– a marine police unit has towed it to another port.

On the quay, she passes Gordon and Jane Watson’s pharmacy and the hobby shop owned by Wayland Rawlings. And then she’s rolling to a stop outside the Drift Net.

Lucy grunts when she sees the windows. The supersized images of Billie and Fin are twin kicks to the gut. She gets off the bike and opens the front door.

Music is playing inside. A group of trawlermen stands around the pool table. Three other tables host solitary drinkers. A fourth punter leans against the bar.

This late in the day, Bee has been replaced by Tyler, who runs the evening shift. Lucy sees him chatting to the customer at the bar. Tyler’s late thirties, an easy-going surfer. She’s always liked him. A shame this is how he’ll remember her.

Lucy fills her lungs. ‘Everybody out!’ she yells. ‘Out of my barnow!’

3

The conversation dies. The music continues to play.

The Drift Net’s customers stare at her as if she’s insane. Emil Potts, skipper of theTandem Tackle, lays down his pool cue and raises his hands. ‘Easy, Luce,’ he says. ‘You’re among friends here. I know how much you’ve been suffering.’

The empathy she sees in Emil’s eyes is almost too much, but she doesn’t have time for niceties. ‘Get the fuck out, Emil. Tyler, you too.NOW!’

To emphasize her point, Lucy kicks over the trawlermen’s drinks table. Then she snatches up the pool cue and rips open the door. ‘I swear to God, if you haven’t all left in the next ten seconds …’

‘OK, we’re going,’ Emil says. ‘Whatever you want, OK? Just … we’ll get out of your hair.’

Tyler comes around the bar, ushering the other punters ahead of him. ‘Luce, is there anything—’

‘Leave,’ she hisses, slamming and locking the doorbehind them. She flips the sign to closed. Then she drags a bench table across the entrance.

Just her, now, and the music.

The track on the stereo changes: ‘A Change Is Gonna Come’ by Sam Cooke. It’s one of Daniel’s favourite songs – one of hers, too. Through the windows she sees Tyler, Emil and the others peering in. Lucy angles her head, looking past them to the RNLI boathouse high above the quay. Lights are shining inside, like they do every day of the year.

Her gaze returns to the harbour, to the boats bobbing on the water. She knows it’s the last time she’ll get this view. She drinks it in for a few seconds. Then she goes to the windows and lowers the blinds.

She built this place the same way Daniel built Locke-Povey Marine, from what was once a dilapidated wreck. So much work has gone into it over the years, so much attention and love.

Lucy checks the Nokia. No new messages. Then she goes to her office.

Someone’s cleared up since she was last here. Her smashed iMac has been removed. The spilled box files have been tidied away. She puts the Nokia on the desk and sits. On the wall is a photo of her family: that shot onboard theLazy Susan. Daniel’s cuddling the kids. Billie’s smiling. Fin’s bent double with laughter. Lucy can’t remember what had tickled her son. Until his classmates made him invisible, he’d found most things in life hysterical.

Ignoring the Nokia, Lucy picks up the office phone. She checks the contact sheet on the wall and dials. The call is answered on the second ring.

‘Hi,’ she says. ‘It’s me.’

Silence on the line. Then: ‘Are you OK?’

Lucy laughs. She reaches out and touches Fin’s face. ‘Not really. Listen, I don’t have much time. I just wanted … I wanted to say sorry. I know I’ve caused you a lot of pain.’

More silence. Finally, Jake Farrell says, ‘A long time ago, Lucy. Ancient history.’

‘Maybe. But I still needed to say it.’

‘Are you in trouble?’ he asks. ‘Is that why you’re calling? Because if you are, you know I’ll help.’

Lucy closes her eyes. She has no right to ask Jake anything; not after how badly she’s treated him. ‘I can’t—’

---