Bill twisted his mouth, thinking. “It was February. After the floods.”
“Any idea of the date?”
“Yeh. The nineteenth. After Valentine’s Day - that was when they got carried away.”
“Carried away?”
“They went for some women. In a shelter. Tried to chat them up. It got nasty.”
“In what way nasty?”
“One of the women had a can of mace. Don’t worry, those lasses didn’t get hurt.”
“And then what?” DC Paretska was chewing her pen. Dawn glanced at Ted, who was shifting in his seat. Muttering.
“We roughed them up a bit. A lot. Kicked them out. They were in quite a bad way. But we didn’t kill them.”
DS Bryce rubbed his forehead. “None of this is making any sense.”
Bill stared at him. “Tell me about it.”
The detective looked at him. “Cripps and Ali were found almost three weeks after you say you kicked them out of your group. They’d only been dead a few days. They didn’t die from what you did to them. They had other injuries. Severe ones. They’d bled out.”
Bill gave a slow nod. Dawn let out a whimper. Sarah was staring at her, her eyes widening. Dawn shook her head at her daughter. If the girl touched her now, she would cave in.
“It was Ted,” Dawn whispered.
“Mum…” Sarah muttered. Ted was glaring at Dawn, his face red.
She shifted away from her husband.
“They attacked Sarah. Broke into her tent. Outside Lincoln.” She felt herself shaking. “Ted caught them. He – he hurt them.”
DS Bryce turned to Ted. “Is this true, Mr Evans?”
“The little shits deserved everything they got,” Ted muttered. Sarah gasped. Dawn held her breath.
“Go on,” the detective said, his voice low.
Ted lifted his face to stare at the man. “They tried to rape my girl. I wasn’t going to let them do that. I defended her.” He turned to Sarah and sneered. “Like she says Martin did for her.”
“Mr Evans. Did they attack you? Did they provoke you?”
“Yes, they provoked me!” Ted stood up and his chair fell to the floor. Dawn stared at it, chewing a fingernail.
“They attacked my bloody daughter. If that isn’t provoking, I don’t know what is. I sliced their bloody dicks off.”
DS Bryce nodded at his colleague. She stood up and moved beside Ted. She put a hand on his shoulder.
“Ted Evans, I’m arresting you for murder.”
Ted’s eyes widened. “What?”
“What about Robert?” Sarah cried. “Bill, tell them the truth about that. Please.”
Dawn swallowed and looked across the table at Bill. “I was holding Martin,” he said. “I had him restrained, with some electrical wire. I let him go when Robert attacked Ted here. Then Robert went for Martin. He was going to stab him, he had a flick knife. Martin grabbed a kitchen knife and defended himself.”
Sarah stood up. “I was there too. He’s right.”
She turned to Dawn. Dawn blinked back tears, staring at Ted. She felt light, airy, like she might float away.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Sarah stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her father was just feet in front of her in the back of the police car, his eyes on the seat in front of him. In the front, the two detectives were muttering to each other.
They handled this wrong, Sarah thought. They should never have let us all be in a room together. Now they had no way of untangling what was a lie and what truth.
Her mother was behind her. Her face was grey, her jaw set. Sarah put a hand on her arm but Dawn shook it off.
She slapped the roof of the car to get DC Bryce’s attention.
“How long before Martin’s released?’
“It’s not as simple as that,” he said. “We’ll need to speak to all the other witnesses. Jess and Ruth Dyer. And we’re looking for the other men. The ones Bill was with in that farm.”
“They’re gone.”
“We’ll find them.”
“If you don’t, what happens?”
“That depends on the witnesses from the village.”
She stiffened. She hardly knew the Dyers; what would they say? They’d do what they needed to to protect Ruth.
“But we’ll be dropping charges against Martin on the murder of the two boys,” said DS Paretska. She was looking at Dawn.
Dawn moved in behind her, her breath on her neck. “Don’t worry,” she whispered.
Sarah snapped round. “What?”
“I spoke to Jess. It’s going to be alright.”
“Are you alright, Mum?”
“No. But I will be.”
“You were very brave.”
Her mother’s eyes hardened. “Thou shalt not kill.”
Sarah heard a door closing behind her and turned to see the Dyers coming out of their house. Ben, Ruth and Jess. Ruth looked pale, Ben angry. Jess stared at the police car, her jaw set.
The detectives were watching. Sarah looked back at them. DS Bryce turned and spoke to her father, while DC Paretska was beside him.
The cars drove off, rear lights receding to nothing at the top of the Parade. She realised that a crowd had gathered to see what was going on. The Dyers – Jess, Ruth, and Ben too – watched in silence. Sarah gave them a nod. Jess returned it.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
“Here. I found you a saucepan.”
Sarah opened the box she’d brought and lifted its contents into a cupboard. A saucepan, two plates and two bowls. Two sets of cutlery.
Martin watched her as she moved, his cheeks glowing. She knew what he was thinking.
She placed the empty box on the floor and kicked it towards the door. “What else?”
“Jess said she had some bits and bobs she could spare.”
“Sonia’s,” Sarah said.
“Who’s Sonia?”
“Jess’s mum. She died not long after they got here. I never saw her much.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
She grabbed his hand. It was warm. “It’s alright. You weren’t to know.”
“Hello? Anyone home?”
They turned to see Dawn at the top of the stairs leading up to the flat. She carried a teapot.
“Mum! You can’t spare that.”
“We’ve got two. Every new home needs a teapot.”
Sam came out of the bedroom. “I’ve got your lamp working, mate. Right snug it is.” He winked at Sarah. Then he spotted Dawn and blushed.
“Oh. Mrs Evans. I’m sorry.”
Dawn laughed. “I was young once too, you know.”
Sam’s face went from pink to deep red.
“Welcome to our village, Martin,” Dawn said. Sarah looked at him; she knew how nervous he was about getting to know her mother.
“Thank you, Mrs Evans.”
“Please stop calling me that. You too, Sam Golder. Makes me feel old.”
“Right. Yes,” said Martin, looking even more clumsy and awkward than he had a moment before. Sarah knew it would take time for either Sam or Martin to call her mother by her first name.
Sarah grabbed the teapot. “Let’s get the kettle on.”
A few minutes later they were sitting on what seats they could find. Dawn occupied the sole armchair and Sarah was on its arm. Martin perched on a box while Sam leaned against the wall.
“Lovely brew,” said Sam.
“I’m sorry about everything you went through,” said Dawn, looking at Martin. “About what my husband did.”
Martin looked at Sarah’s mother, his cheeks flushing.
“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate what you did.”
“It wasn’t just for you. Sarah here, too.”
“Why?” asked Martin.
“Because Sarah deserves better than I had. She loves you.”
Sam was fidgeting by the door.
“Sorry, Samuel,” said Dawn.
“’S alright, Mrs Evans.”
Dawn raised her eyebrows at him. He said nothing.
Sarah exchanged glances with Martin. She thought of the way he’d kissed her when she’d gone to fetch him from the police station. They’d dropped charges on Robert’s murder after Jess had corroborated Sarah’s story. And Ted was awaiting his court appearance for the murder of Cripps and Ali. “How did you know, Mum?”
“A mother knows.” Dawn tapped her nose. “And I had a tip-off from Sam here. You owe him.”
Sam blushed. “No, it’s not like that.”
Sarah stood up, being careful not to walk into her mother’s mug on the floor. She went to Sam. “Is it true, Sam?”
He shrugged and looked at her through lowered lashes. “I saw you together. You worked. And I could see the effect you have on him.”
Sarah looked back at Martin, who was staring at Sam. “What effect?”
“You make him better.” Sam sniffed. “If he hadn’t met you, he’d still be one of Robert Cope’s lackeys.”
Martin paled. “He could be right. I owe you, Sam. And you, Sarah. All of you. This entire village. I’m so grateful for this flat.”
Sarah looked at her mother. They had been offered another month in that big house, but Dawn had rejected it. They’d moved to a smaller cottage, away from the sea. Dawn had filled the surfaces with ornaments, flowers from the dunes, anything she could find. Sarah wondered how long she would stay there; her mother needed her, for now. But not forever.
Martin coughed. “Let’s take a walk.”
Sarah smiled up at him then looked at her mother. “We won’t be long.”
Dawn waved at her. “You go. We’ll carry on making this place nice. Won’t we, Samuel?”
“Well,” said Sam. “My mum’s expecting me home in—”
“I’m sure she won’t mind waiting.”
Sarah pulled Martin down the stairs and onto the street outside. He grabbed her hand and they walked towards the sea, their arms swinging between them. They passed people on the way; some said hello, while others looked wary. It would take time.
They stopped at the clifftop. She stared out to sea, thinking of their journey back here, from the farm, in separate boats. Then their journey back there, together. She hoped she’d never see that boat again.
She leaned her head on Martin’s arm. He felt soft, and warm.
He wrapped his arm around her. “I love you.”
“I know,” she replied, her heart lifting. “I love you too.”
Read The Prequel
Find out how the villagers arrived in Yorkshire in the prequel, Underwater.
'Hurricane Victoria, they called it. Such a British name. So full of history, and patriotism, and shades of Empire.'
Little did they know it would devastate London and send an exodus of refugees north.
In this companion set of prequel stories to Thicker Than Water, discover how the Dyer family are forced to leave London as it descends into chaos. Will they reach Leeds and their eventual coast destination safely?
To read Underwater as well as After The Flood, a story about what happens to Martin’s mum after he leaves her behind in a flooded house, join my book club at rachelmclean.com/sol.
Thanks,
Rachel McLean
Thicker Than Water - the first book in the Village series
Six years after floods made her family homeless, Jess Dyer has found safety on the wild North Yorkshire coast.
Her sister-in-law Ruth is forging a role as doctor to their community of refugees and the rock around which the family revolves.
When Jess answers a distress call at sea, she brings strangers to their village and puts Ruth in jeopardy. Jess must calm the community, mount a rescue mission and keep her brother Ben from tipping into insanity.
Will she succeed? And will she find Ruth before it’s too late?
‘Thicker Than Water’ is a gripping thriller about family, belonging and revenge.
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Thanks,
Rachel McLean
Copyright © 2019 by Rachel McLean
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Catawampus Press
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Sea of Lies Page 24