“Sarah!” Her father was in the kitchen. He came towards her.
She turned to Dawn. “Where did he go, Mum? Where is he?”
Dawn cast Ted a worried look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, love.”
“We need a word,” said her father. “The police want to talk to you.”
“What’s this about a murder?” Dawn asked.
She felt ice run down her back. “A murder?”
“They’re making enquiries,” said her father. “A murder investigation.”
Her hands felt cold, and her feet leaden. “Not the kidnappings?”
“They said nothing about that. Murder, is what they said.” He advanced on her. “You should never have brought him here.”
She backed into the wall. “No! No, they’ve got it wrong. It was Robert. He took us. He got the others to…”
Her parents were staring at her. They were never going to believe what Martin had told her. She wasn’t sure if she did herself.
But killing Robert hadn’t been murder. It was self-defence. It was mercy.
She pulled open the door. “Mum? Which way? Which way did he go?”
Her mother shook her head at her. Tears rolled down her face. “Forget him, love. He’s left.”
Sarah shrieked in frustration then hurled herself through the door.
Outside, the blue lights still flashed off the house fronts, providing a contrast to the yellow-green clouds that hung over them. The air felt charged, as if electricity was running through her veins.
Two uniformed policemen stood in front of one of the houses, waiting. Clyde stood outside the JP, gawping. Clyde was the landlord and also the custodian of the village boat. It was he who had brought them all home.
A small crowd had gathered around him, watching.
She glared at them. This was supposed to be a community. They pulled together. They didn’t stare at each others’ troubles.
The road out of the village was blocked by a police car. Would Martin have gone that way? Would they have seen him?
She caught movement to her left. The door to Ruth and Ben Dyer’s house opening. A woman in a grey suit walked out. The woman who’d been in her own living room, minutes before?
Behind her followed Ruth. Her head was bowed and she wore a torn T-shirt over a pair of faded jeans. Her hair was dishevelled and she had no socks on under her thin shoes. A uniformed policewoman followed her, her hand on Ruth’s shoulder.
An older man came after them, dressed in a dark suit and coat, and a tie that was far too bright for the circumstances. Ben trailed him, shouting.
Sarah collapsed to the ground. She watched, open mouthed, as they guided Ruth to one of the police cars. A door was opened – a rear door – and Ruth was ushered inside, a hand on her head. The door was closed behind her. Ben ran at it, pounding it with his fists.
The policewoman turned and pulled Ben away. The female detective spoke to him. He let out a groan then his body slumped, like a marionette with its strings cut.
The male detective got into the car. It headed up the Parade, passing Clyde and the shocked group of villagers.
She had to get to Martin. They had to be told the truth.
There were plenty of places to hide. Houses, trees, thickets of heather. He would have seen their lights before they could have seen him.
He would be hiding, though. He would have stopped moving.
Which meant she could catch up with him. She could find him.
Chapter Fourteen
Martin crouched behind a wooden hut at the edge of what seemed to be an allotment. Wooden and tin structures dotted the space, along with crates full of compost. Rows of perfectly arranged vegetables spread out around him; carrots, leeks, parsnips, cabbages. It reminded him of his childhood, his grandmother’s insistence on self sufficiency. As if the 1953 floods, her obsession, hadn’t taught her that crops could be wiped out in a heartbeat.
He’d spotted the police lights as he’d left the centre of the village behind. There were plenty of houses that would have sheltered him, but he didn’t want to risk being seen by their inhabitants. The allotment was empty.
The village was quiet now, the police cars having passed him, heading towards the coast.
Had they gone to Sarah’s house?
He stood up, not caring who saw him now. He picked his way across the rows of vegetables, careful not to trample them.
The Parade, the village’s central artery, was two streets away. He sprinted towards it, not stopping to consider what might happen when he got there. He had to keep Sarah out of trouble.
He passed a row of terraced houses and spotted a man watching him out of a downstairs window. The man was balding and wore a greying vest. He looked irritated.
Martin threw him a wave, hoping that might convince the man that he belonged here. He carried on running.
He rounded the houses and crashed into someone coming the other way.
It was a woman, slim and blonde. She was in a heap on the pavement, clutching her foot.
“Sarah?”
She looked up.
“Martin! You haven’t left.”
“No. Well, yes. But then I saw the police. I was coming back, to make sure they didn’t…”
She stood up and brushed off her skirt. She poked her foot then shook it out, seemingly satisfied. “You thought they’d arrest me?” she said.
“No. I didn’t know…”
“Why would they arrest me, Martin?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking straight. I…”
“They’d only arrest me if they thought I had some connection to you.”
“D’you think they know? I mean, d’you think they’d think that?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
A car approached, heading out of the village. Martin grabbed Sarah’s arm to pull her out of sight, then let go. She didn’t acknowledge the contact.
They watched round the corner of the house. It felt as if the car was going at one mile per hour, so long did it take to be out of sight. A man and a woman were inside, in the front seats. The back seat was empty.
Martin felt his stomach clench.
“Why have they gone?”
Sarah turned to him. “Didn’t you see the last car?”
“No.”
“They’ve arrested Ruth.”
He pushed down memories of the encounter in the farmhouse kitchen. Robert holding a knife to Sarah’s face. The fear in her eyes…
“Are you alright?” she asked.
He frowned. “Yes. Why?”
“You suddenly went very pale.”
He fingered his cheeks. “Sorry. I’ve got to get back, tell them the truth.”
“What truth?”
He eyed her. ‘You know what truth. It’s me they should be arresting.”
“You were protecting me. All of us.”
“Ruth doesn’t deserve to get the blame.”
“Even though she finished him off?”
He stepped back. “Sarah. It wasn’t like that. You know that.”
She pulled her hands through her hair. Martin wondered if that man would be watching again, from his window.
“I’m not myself,” she said. “It’s my dad.”
“Has he hurt you?”
Her eyes went to his chin. The plaster had fallen off; he had no idea how the wound looked.
“No,” she said. “There’s been a lot of shouting, though. A lot of posturing.”
“He’s only trying to protect you.”
“He’s got a funny way of showing it.”
He looked past her, towards the village centre. “Look, I don’t think you should come with me.”
“No.”
“Good. You wait here, and I’ll go on ahead. Unless you want to get safely home first?”
“I mean no. Don’t go back. They’ll kill you.”
“I have to go to the police, Sarah. I can’t be respons
ible for Ruth.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to face the village.” She paused. “I’ve got a better idea. I’ll talk to them. I’ll tell them what he did to me. That Ruth was defending me. Jess will back me up.”
“She wasn’t there. Not for all of it.”
“She’ll back me up, Martin. I got the feeling she knew what Robert was like, better than any of us. And she’ll want her sister-in-law home.”
“And what about me? What will you tell them about me? They’ll ask you about the abduction.”
“It wasn’t you who took me.”
“This is dumb. You can’t do this.”
“I can, Martin. If you’re a part of this, it’ll make my dad so much worse. Trust me. Carry on walking. Get out of here.”
She hesitated for a second, searching his face, then turned and ran. He watched until she was out of sight, hating himself. How could he let her do this?
He retreated into the shadow of the houses, not taking his eyes off the spot where Sarah had disappeared. Was she right? Was it better for everyone if he didn’t get involved? Or was she lying, to protect him?
Don’t be stupid. Why would she want to protect you?
He sighed and picked his way back across the allotment. At its far end was a wood, and then the road south.
He stopped next to a wooden shed, its door hanging open.
He couldn’t leave her. Not like this. But he had to do what she told him.
He slid into the shed, checking no one had seen him. He closed the door and let himself slide to the ground, clutching his knees.
Chapter Fifteen
Sarah hurried back to the square. There was still a solitary police car: house to house. She scanned the buildings, trying to spot them. Would they go inside, or stay on doorsteps?
Maybe they were in one of the roads leading off the Parade, somewhere in the warren of streets and buildings.
“Sarah!”
Her father was standing outside their front door. He wore a shirt and thin trousers, and a frown so deep she felt it might eat her alive.
She looked behind him, into the doorway. Mum?
“Get in here, now!”
She took another look around the houses in hope of seeing the police officers. But the square was empty, fear having sent everyone indoors. She wondered what it had been like here after she and the others had been taken, how the village had reacted. Shocked, afraid, angry?
Did they blame her? Did they blame her family?
“I said, now!”
She took a deep breath and ran towards him. “No need to shout.”
He raised his good arm as if to clip her round the head then thought better of it. She ducked past him into the house.
Inside, Dawn was sitting on the sofa, staring out to sea. The breakfast things had been washed up and cleared away and the kitchen table was as clean and empty as ever. Sarah felt a tug of guilt at not being around to help.
Ted slammed the door. “What the fuck are you thinking, running off like that!”
“Sorry.” She cast a look at her mother, who continued staring ahead.
She felt a hand in her hair. She turned, flailing against it. Ted had her long hair by the roots and was pulling her towards the living room.
“Ow! Stop it! I’ll come! I’ll do what you want!”
Dawn turned, her mouth open. She inhaled but said nothing. Sarah threw her as reassuring a smile as she could manage. She tried not to look at the strands of hair on the carpet.
“Sit down.” Ted jabbed his finger into her chest and pushed her onto the sofa, next to Dawn. She let herself fall.
Her mother’s hands were clasped in her lap, her fingers twisting around each other. Ted gestured at them.
‘Stop it, woman! It’s bloody annoying!”
“Sorry.” Dawn’s voice was no more than a whisper.
Sarah looked up at her father. “You can’t treat her like this. She’s done nothing wrong.”
Ted leaned forwards. He looked into Sarah’s face. She stared back into his eyes, forcing herself not to blink.
Then he slapped her across the eyes.
She clapped a hand to her face and held in a shriek.
Dawn stood up. “Leave her!”
Dawn shifted to stand in front of Sarah. Sarah stared at her mother’s back, trembling. Her father had never hit her before. He’d threatened to, plenty of times, but this was the first time he’d carried through.
She knew that the first time was like a locked door. Now it was open, she had no idea what to expect. She stood up, pushing Dawn out of the way.
The two women struggled, each vying to place herself between Ted and the other. He stood back and folded his arms across his chest, chuckling.
“What the fuck are you stupid women doing?”
He reached between them and shoved Dawn aside. She tumbled to a chair, her head hitting the wooden armrest. Sarah looked at her, panicked. Dawn raised her head. She wasn’t cut, thank God.
Sarah swallowed the bile in her throat. “Please, Dad. I know I shouldn’t have gone out. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” his spit landed in her face and she resisted an ache to wipe it away. “Sorry is as sorry does, girl.”
He jabbed at her again and sent her crashing onto the sofa. Then he grabbed her arm and yanked her off it and onto the floor. Her leg twisted beneath her and she landed on it awkwardly.
She fumbled on the floor. Her leg throbbed. She tried to move it, but it was stuck beneath her.
“Stop it!”
Dawn was in front of her again, her hands raised in front of her face. “You promised me you’d never touch her!”
He looked from Dawn to Sarah and back again. “That was before she decided to go gallivanting about with that bloody boy.”
“She’s not gallivanting, Ted. She went to see Sam.”
“Sam?”
“Sam Golder. He’s—”
“What the fuck has Sam Golder got to do with any of this?” He turned to Sarah, who was still twisted on the floor. She’d managed to get her leg out from under her and was trying to figure out how to pull herself upright. “And what are you doing seeing boys?”
“It’s natural, Ted,” pleaded Dawn. ‘She deserves better than—”
“Better than what?” His eyes were blazing, bulging like they might explode. “Better than me?”
He balled his fist and struck Dawn across the jaw. She collapsed sideways, into the armchair. There was a crack as her head hit its arm.
“Mum!” Sarah shrieked. She was up on her feet, unaware of her own pain. “Mum!”
She turned to her father. She opened her mouth to speak. He cocked his head, challenging her. She closed her mouth.
Not now. Not yet.
She collapsed to the floor, muttering in her mother’s ear. Ted cleared his throat loudly then slammed through the front door, leaving them in an aching silence.
Chapter Sixteen
Sarah was woken from her trance by someone pounding on the door.
“Is everything alright in there?”
She ushered their visitor inside: Jess.
“I heard shouting, then I saw Ted marching towards the JP. He looked like he’d swallowed a bee’s nest. Are you OK?”
Sarah shook her head. She turned towards Dawn, lying crooked against the sofa.
“Oh my God.” Jess went to Dawn’s side. She lifted her arm and held her wrist, her eyes closed. “She’s got a pulse.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. It hadn’t occurred to her that she wouldn’t.
Jess held Dawn’s head in her lap. “But she’s unconscious. What happened, Sarah?”
Sarah looked at her mother. How much should she say? What would Dawn say?
She took in a deep breath. “She fell.”
“She fell? Just fell, like that?”
Sarah nodded. If she opened her mouth, she would scream until her lungs burst.
“What about the cut on her eyelid?”
Sarah squint
ed to look. Sure enough, Dawn had a small cut above her eye. It was starting to bleed. That was a good sign… wasn’t it? Blood?
“I, I don’t know. She must have got that earlier.”
“Look, Sarah. It isn’t for me to pry into your family’s business. But you can talk to me, you know. You can trust me.”
Sarah nodded, her lips clamped shut. The last thing her father would tolerate was for her to tell the steward their secrets.
Jess sighed. “Have it your way. But you might want to think of something to explain away the bruise you’re going to have in the morning.”
Sarah put her hand up to her face. The flesh to the side of her right eye stung. The pain in her ankle had come back now, but it didn’t feel as if anything was broken. Just a twist, or a sprain.
Dawn blinked a few times, then opened her eyes. She looked at Jess, and her eyes widened. Her expression held more horror than when Ted had been attacking her.
“Jess,” she murmured. “What are you doing here? Where’s Ted?”
“He left. I’m just here to help Sarah get you to bed.”
Dawn and Sarah exchanged glances. Dawn’s face held remonstration, while Sarah tried to inject a plea into hers.
Jess stood up. “Come on then.”
The two of them lifted Dawn to her feet. Her legs were weak and she could barely put weight on them. Sarah bit down on her lip, trying to shut out the pain in her ankle.
They half-dragged, half-carried Dawn to the stairs. Jess shifted Dawn’s weight to take most of it.
“No,” said Sarah. “Let me.”
“She’s light as air, and you’re limping. I’ve got her.”
Sarah trailed behind, taking Dawn’s legs, as Jess hauled her mother up the stairs. Jess puffed out sharp breaths as she ascended, struggling in the confined space until they reached the top.
‘Which room?”
“That one.”
Jess backed into the door to Dawn and Ted’s room. The room was gloomy and bare. They staggered through with Dawn between them. She made an involuntary noise every time she touched the doorframe, or the wall.
At last Dawn was on the bed. Sarah heaved the duvet out from under her and slid it over her. Dawn gave her a weak smile of thanks.
Sea of Lies Page 6