Page 7 of The Rising Tide

‘And do you know whatelse, Mummy?Lastyear we had a girlleaveour class. And do you know whathername was? Do youknow, Mummy?’

Lucy touches her lips where Daniel’s mouth left its mark. Something in her chest quivers. Strange, how all her breath is in her throat.

‘Hername was Jessicatoo. We swappedoneJessica foranotherJessica. TheoldJessica left, and anewJessica took her place.’

The Volvo crunches over the driveway stones. Lucy imagines Daniel behind the wheel, still wearing that vacant look. It feels, recently, like Fin’s anecdote happened to the man she loves. The old Daniel left and a new Daniel took his place. Only one person to blame for that, and it’s not her husband.

‘Do you know whatIthink, Mummy?Ithink they had to wait a whole year until they found someone with exactly the same name so Miss Clay didn’t have to write out a newlockersticker. That’s whatIthink, anyway, and that’s whatI’mgoing to say if anyone asksmeabout it.’

‘If anyone asks you about what, Scout?’

That voice isn’t Lucy’s but Billie’s. The girl bounds in, barefoot. As always, Lucy feels like she’s viewing a younger reflection; her daughter shares the same brown eyes, upturned nose and square jaw. A neon-green T-shirt hangs off her shoulder. It exposes a strap of patterned bra and partof a dark tattoo. Her black gym shorts are cut to mid-thigh, bisecting another tattoo. A fabric band holds Billie’s blonde bob off her face.

‘Why’d you call meScout?’ Fin asks, stirring his Frosties.

‘It’s from a film.’

Lucy rolls her eyes. ‘It’s from abook.’

‘Oops, I’m in trouble,’ Billie tells her brother. ‘Like that time you asked to dress up as Jack Sparrow for World Book Day.’

‘Jack Sparrow’s acool dude,’ Fin says. ‘Abootypirate.’

Billie snorts with laughter. ‘Where did you getthatone from, little man? No, doesn’t matter. My point was, Jack didn’t come from a kids’ book.’

Fin’s gaze moves from his sister to the window. ‘Did you know there’s astormcoming, Billo?’

‘Yup. I hear it’s going to be a real monster.’ She grabs her mascara bottle and plonks down opposite. ‘What they call a threat to life.’

‘Threattolife,’ he repeats, testing the words on his tongue. Then he munches a spoonful of Frosties.

‘After college, straight back home, OK?’ Lucy tells Billie.

‘Sure.’

‘I mean it. Weather’s due to hit late afternoon. I want you both here with me, baking or playing board games—’

‘Or hiding under a table,’ the girl interjects.

Lucy grins. ‘Or playing board games under a table.’

‘Orbakingunder a table, Mummy.’

‘Great idea, Scout.’

The memory dissolves. Abruptly, Lucy’s back inside the RNLI boathouse, shivering under Jake’s gaze.

He frowns, touches her bare arm. ‘Jesus, Luce, you’refreezing.’ From a peg, he grabs a yellow Helly Hansen crew jacket. He drapes it around her shoulders. She pushes her hands through the sleeves. ‘You want a coffee to warm you up? Tea?’

Lucy thinks of those cold Atlantic waves. She shakes her head. ‘I need to be out there.Doingsomething.’

‘Should I phone someone for you?’

‘Thanks, no. Look, I know you’ll do a great job. Please, call me – the moment you have news.’

2

Outside, the sky is noticeably darker, the sea marbled with white water. At the rail enclosing the entrance deck, Lucy looks down at the quay. The harbour is emptying of boats. Fishing vessels and yachts are fanning out past Mortis Point.

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