I heard car doors opening and a police officer shouting at Nicole to stop, and feet splashing through the puddles towards us. I stayed on the ground. I was soaked through, and pain sung in my arms and knees. I wasn’t completely sure that I could get up even if I’d wanted to.
Someone approached me. ‘Are you hurt?’ they asked.
I managed to nod. With assistance, I got back to my feet. Off in the distance, I could hear more shouting, but beyond the wash of the lights I could see nothing, so I had no idea whether Nicole had got away or not.
‘We need another ambulance,’ I found myself saying to the police officer. ‘For Patrick.’
***
The night you left, you said to me, ‘It’s not your fault. Okay? I never should’ve blamed you.’
‘I didn’t tell them,’ I said.
‘I know you didn’t.’ You brushed a curl of hair back from your face. ‘Those stupid letters he sent me. I didn’t hide them well enough.’
It wasn’t like you to be so careless. Not like you at all.
‘I gotta go,’ you said. ‘You understand, right?’
I studied your hands. You were good at hiding secrets. Spinning stories. Inventing truths.
I wondered if you’d finally got what you wanted.
‘I understand,’ I said. ‘You’ve gotta follow your heart.’
Chapter 35
Cora rode in the first ambulance to Nobles Hospital in Douglas. The paramedics said she was likely fine, no permanent damage, but she’d had a nasty scare and a blow to the head, so they wanted to take her to the hospital for proper investigations.
The second ambulance took Patrick.
I drove down to Douglas with Dallin. Both of us were subdued. The weather was so dreadful I took the long way round, via Kirk Michael and Ballacraine, rather than drive the mountain route in the darkness and rain. It took us nearly an hour to get to the hospital.
When we arrived, we had another wait before we could see Cora. She’d been taken into a treatment room. It took us a while to find out which room, and another while to know whether we could go into said room to see her.
When we finally found her, she was sitting on the end of a bed in the small treatment room. The rest of the bed was covered with the maps she’d taken out of her backpack.
I was so grateful to see her, alive and unhurt, albeit very pale. A dressing covered the cut on her forehead.
‘Hey.’ Cora smiled at me. ‘There you are.’ She hopped down off the bed and came to hug me.
I clung to her. I had to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from crying with relief. ‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
‘More or less. No lasting damage, they tell me.’ Cora pulled away from the hug. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. ‘Thank you.’
My gaze when back to the maps on the bed. ‘What’re you up to?’
‘Planning.’
My heart sank. ‘Cora, I don’t think you should—’
‘I’m not going back out there straight away, don’t worry. But I am going back. And I’m not doing it on my own.’ She eased herself back onto the edge of the bed. ‘I’m going to talk to the police. They’re coming back to get our full story.’
‘Is that why you’ve got the maps out?’ I asked.
‘They’ll have to believe us this time,’ Cora said. ‘They’ll do a proper search of the curraghs. Top to bottom.’
I wondered what that would involve. How much disruption or damage would it cause to the wetlands? Perhaps Eloise was right to worry.
Dallin asked, ‘Do you think Nicole will tell the police where Simone’s body is?’
‘Hopefully. If not,’ Cora shrugged, ‘we’ll still find Simone. It’ll just take longer. I know for certain she’s there to find, which is more than I did last week. And we can narrow down the area a bit.’ She tapped her pencil on the map. ‘We can guesstimate where Nicole entered the curraghs. From there, we can plot possible routes she might’ve taken. It won’t pinpoint the exact spot but it’ll certainly narrow it down more than before.’
I chewed my lower lip. I wondered what else Nicole would tell the police.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Dallin asked. ‘It must be horrible, to know your sister’s definitely dead.’
‘I cried all the way here in the ambulance,’ Cora admitted. ‘I’ll probably have another cry later.’ She gave me a wobbly smile. ‘I always knew she was dead. It’s hard, having it confirmed, but it feels like … progress. Does that sound weird? I’ve spent so long chasing ghosts. Now I feel almost like … like I can stop. I can restart my own life instead of having to puzzle out Simone’s.’
I smiled to show I understood. Cora reached out and took my hand and gave it a squeeze. For that one moment, I didn’t want to think about what had happened in the past, or the lies we’d all told. I didn’t want to consider what I would have to do in the future. For one moment, I was happy just to be there with Cora.
She didn’t let go. Neither did I.
THE END
If you enjoyed Little Girls Tell Tales, be sure to follow Rachel Bennett on Twitter @rakie and check out their website at rakiekeig.blogspot.com for all the updates on their latest work.
You can also find us at @OneMoreChapter_, where we’ll be shouting about all our new releases.
In the mood for even more thrilling crime novels?
You will LOVE Flowers for the Dead, a fantastic cold case novel with the most shocking twist. Click here if you’re in the UK and here if you’re in the US.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to everyone who has helped and inspired me with this book. Y’all are awesome, don’t you know.
In particular:
To (the possibly-imaginary) Simon Smart, who took a bunch of us out for a guided stroll around the Curraghs on a lovely summer day, showed us some wildflowers and, quite offhand, mentioned how he had once got lost out there while trying to follow a wallaby trail …
To my wonderful agent Leslie Gardner and everyone at Artellus, for always being on hand to help, reassure, talk me down from a ledge, or shout corraggio! when it’s most needed.
To Hannah Todd, Claire Fenby, and the whole team at One More Chapter, who put in so much hard work. It’s always a joy to work with you.
To everyone at our various writer groups for the support, encouragement, and coffee.
To Manx Litfest (currently sashaying towards their ninth festival), Bridge Bookshop, Henry Bloom Noble Library, and the Family Library for their continual and tireless support of books and authors. You guys are the best.
To everyone who has read, reviewed, spellchecked, complained about, and/or beta-read my work over the years … I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you, seriously.
A non-zero number of the anecdotes in this book are based on true events, although names have been changed to protect the guilty. I will tell you the full story of the KFC incident if you ask me about it in the pub. The wallaby colony in the curraghs is also real (and if this book had been written a few months later, it could’ve included a cameo from Kush, the escape-artist red panda), as are most of the places mentioned. I’ve taken some minor liberties with geography, for which I apologise.
Finally, obviously, thank you to my parents, my sisters, my in-laws, my extensive network of cousins, and everyone else in my family. And to John, Jacob, and Elliott, for being my best cheerleaders. Heart emoji to you all.
About the Author
Rachel Bennett currently lives on the Isle of Man (home of fast motorbikes, tailless cats, and very changeable weather). She shares her home with two kids, one angry cat, and an exceptionally patient husband.
@rakie
Author website
Also by Rachel Bennett
The Flood
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Little Girls Tell Tales Page 27