by James Dawson
Katie took control in the warm manner of a Miss Honey primary-school teacher. ‘OK, so, where could she be? She was very upset last night; she may have just left to go home. But if not, then where else? The beach? Or maybe she walked to Zahara de los Atunes.’
‘What about that B&B we drove past just down the coast?’ Ben suggested. ‘Perhaps she went there.’
‘I can’t see her handbag anywhere,’ Alisha offered. ‘It was that huge pink Mulberry one. It’s gone. Maybe she took it with her.’
‘It’s worth a try.’ Greg closed his eyes. Every molecule of Ryan’s body wanted to go and comfort him. The conversation last night had released the kraken inside him. All his good work at forgetting Greg Cole had come undone. He was jealous of Greg’s feelings for Erin. Pure and simple. Acknowledging the sensation didn’t make it any less searing hot. Who was Erin? Some pretty med student. There was no way that she and Greg had the heat they’d had. No way. She was nothing more than a ‘beard’, so why was Greg in such pain?
A new thought occurred to Ryan. Erin had been alone in the lounge all night. Could she have left the message on the wall? That raised the same question again: who was Erin? She was a contradiction – a cutesy medical student, sweet as apple pie but with a sharp aftertaste. Ryan wondered if Erin was as good at pretending as her ‘bifriend’ was.
Katie ran for the stairs. ‘I need to get dressed. Give me two minutes.’
‘Me, too.’ Alisha followed close behind.
Ben also headed upstairs to throw on some clothes but Greg held Ryan back. Ryan was gratified to see that his friend had to drag his eyes away from Ryan’s naked torso to make eye contact.
‘Hey,’ Greg said.
‘Hey what?’
Greg leaned in to whisper. Ryan, instead, leaned in to kiss him because fortune favours the brave. Their lips brushed.
‘No. Don’t.’ Greg’s protest was empty, half-hearted. Ryan persisted. This time Greg returned the kiss, albeit hesitantly. Ryan swore he could feel Greg melting into the embrace, but then Greg pulled back, his expression pained, torn. ‘Ryan, please. I can’t do this. I need to find Erin.’
Ryan drew himself up. ‘Fine.’
Greg sighed. ‘Listen,’ he whispered. He brushed the back of Ryan’s hand with a finger. ‘I need you to stay here.’
‘What?’
‘While we’re out, looking for Erin, I need you to stay here and turn this place over. Find Roxanne’s phone, her laptop, anything. Just get rid of it. OK?’
Ryan realised he was a dirty little secret that needed to be destroyed. ‘I see. Burn the evidence.’
‘You understand, yeah? I need to make things right. There’s a chance that Erin . . . we might find her.’
Ryan wasn’t prepared to surrender any more of his dignity. ‘I hope you do. Erin is very sweet. She deserves better than you,’ he told Greg.
‘I know.’ Greg looked embarrassed. Maybe that was what he saw in Erin. She was something ‘good’ to elevate him out of all the ‘bad’ in his life. Ryan was left to wallow in the mud alone.
Katie galloped down the stairs, now wearing short shorts and a simple tennis T-shirt. ‘Right, I’m ready.’
‘Cool,’ Greg said. ‘Ryan’s gonna stay here in case she comes back to the villa while we’re gone.’
‘OK, good call.’
Alisha and Ben also returned to the lounge, ready for the search.
‘OK . . .’ Greg tried to take charge, but it was clear his attention was unfocused. There was only Erin on his mind. ‘OK . . . I’ll drive into town, I guess.’
Katie took his hands. ‘Greg, you’re shaking. You can’t drive like this. I’ll take you in my hire car.’
‘OK.’ Greg looked grateful for the support and Ryan realised why he loved Katie so much. Even after last night, she had forgiven Greg entirely, never holding a grudge.
‘Lish – stick with Ben, yeah?’ Greg said. ‘I don’t want anything to happen to you.’
Alisha nodded. ‘Sure.’ And Ryan could swear she was blushing, but there was no time to think about that now.
‘No one calls the police – even when you get a signal,’ Ryan warned.
Greg sighed impatiently. ‘I won’t! Can we not have this debate now? We need to find Erin.’
They agreed to search all morning and meet back at the villa by two. If there was no sign of Erin by then . . . well, there was no plan B. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. They worked so well together, Ryan had to remind himself that one of them was, in all likelihood, a cold-blooded killer.
Ben and Alisha set off down the beach, while Katie and Greg drove down the road to check out the B&B and then go on to Zahara de los Atunes. The second they were all out of sight, Ryan got to work. First he made himself a strong black coffee. The night before he’d barely slept a wink – Ben had been up and down like a jack-in-the-box and every time he closed his eyes all he saw was Roxanne’s dead face. He had a horrible feeling it would be a while before any of them slept like regular people again.
He took Roxanne’s rucksack out onto the top terrace. It was a brand-new morning in paradise. The sky, sea and sand dazzled him but he could no longer appreciate their beauty. Everything was tainted; the pristine white walls of the villa looked grimy up close, the sand was strewn with driftwood and the sea was full of corpses.
Ryan tried to focus on the task in hand. He realised that the hardy built-in barbecue on the top terrace would be the ideal place to burn Rox’s stuff. He tipped the bag upside down and shook the contents onto the paving slabs. Roxanne had been travelling pretty light: one pair of jeans, two pairs of jean shorts, sandals, a light cotton dress and some very skimpy underwear. On a positive note, it was a surprise she’d bothered with underwear at all. A heavy toiletry bag hit the ground with a thud and that was it.
Ryan rifled through the numerous pockets. He found headphones, a purse, a collection of weird and wonderful-looking currency and then he hit the jackpot: his old mobile handset. Clearly it had travelled from him to Janey and then on to Roxanne. He guessed Janey must have been feeling charitable when she upgraded; Roxanne had always had less money than the rest of them. That explained one mystery.
Ryan wondered if Janey had ever gone through the videos on the phone. He allowed himself to smile. As bad as it was for Greg, he wished he could have been a fly on the wall when Rox had first seen him and Greg on tape in the Cole family caravan.
He could almost hear Roxanne’s screech of horror, followed by her cackle of delight. It made him sad. He was never going to hear that filthy laugh ever again. And there it was! The sadness had finally found him.
Wait a second. Little Tetris pieces fell into place to form a grim picture. Janey and Roxanne. The thing they had in common was this phone. One phone with one incriminating video. Had Greg known about it the whole time? A whole flock of what ifs screeched around like ravens. What if Greg had killed Janey to get at the phone? What if he’d come away empty handed and then killed Rox to finish the job? Ryan closed his eyes. I’m in love with a serial killer. He had to forget the idea. Remember it’s all a plotline. None of it’s real, he told himself. Because if that were the case, there was only one person left in the whole world who knew about the affair: Ryan himself. That put him on the endangered list, to say the least.
A message on the wall from Shakespeare, though? That so wasn’t Greg’s style. Ryan would be amazed if Greg could even spell ‘Shakespeare’ correctly. That didn’t mean he hadn’t hurt the girls, though. He’d hurt Katie last night.
He banished the thoughts. Greg had never hurt him and never would. With a sigh, Ryan switched the handset on. The battery was almost gone, but there was enough juice to discover it was password locked. He tried Rox’s year of birth with no luck. He tried her birthday with similar lack of success. In a last-ditch attempt he even tried four zeros, one, two, three, four and his old password, but it was no use.
The only record of the good times he’d shared with Greg Cole had died with Roxanne Dent.
SCENE 31 – ALISHA
A sumptuous wind rolled in off the sea, kissing Alisha’s face. Good thing, too. In the moments when the breeze died, it was too hot to bear, like being under a grill. She allowed herself only minute sips of water, knowing she and Ben had an immense trek ahead.
They walked away from the jetty. Katie and Greg were headed south towards Zahara de los Atunes, so they chose to head north towards Barbate. The sand was too hot to walk on, so she and Ben stuck to the cool, hard-packed wet sand, allowing the fizzing surf to run over their toes.
In other circumstances a walk through the surf with Ben Murdoch would be desirable, even romantic. You see it all the time on the TV adverts for travel companies – a gorgeous couple walking hand in hand through the white foam while some cheesy love song plays. But Alisha didn’t dare appreciate it for a second; it would seem totally wrong. Still, she was secretly thrilled she’d been paired with Ben.
It was weird to think this was the same sea that now concealed Roxanne’s body. In the light of day it looked so innocent, so safe.
‘Do you think we’ll find her?’ Ben spoke first and Alisha was glad. For some reason, after their search of the cellar, she felt awkward around him. It was as though, now she’d noticed how hot Ben was, she couldn’t stop noticing it.
‘I hope so,’ she replied, realising she was so tense her throat hurt a little. ‘I really hope so. I mean, why Erin? She wouldn’t say boo to a goose.’
‘Exactly. She had nothing to do with anything,’ Ben said. ‘At least, I don’t think she did.’
‘Maybe she just got in someone’s way,’ Alisha suggested. Man, that was a bleak thought. ‘Or maybe she just did a runner. She was having a full-scale meltdown last night. After what my darling brother did, I can’t say I blame her really.’
‘There’s no one up ahead for miles, Lish.’
Alisha used her hand as a visor. ‘I know, but we have to look. Maybe she went for a swim.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘No,’ Alisha admitted sadly.
‘I think she’s dead.’ He wasn’t trying to be sensational, he was just being real. That was Ben Murdoch. Alisha stopped and looked up at him. There was nothing she could say so she took his hand instead and said nothing. She didn’t need to. He understood and pulled her in tight, sealing her inside his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head and she felt at peace for the first time in a year.
All of a sudden, things didn’t seem very fair. She hadn’t asked for any of this and she certainly hadn’t killed anyone. After a year of purgatory in Telscombe Cliffs, all she’d wanted was a bit of fun in the sun with her old school friends. ‘Come with me.’ She dragged Ben diagonally across the sand.
‘What are you doing?’ Ben trotted to keep up.
‘Wait and see!’ They ran the way children run – all arms and legs. Alisha led him to the top of the hill at the end of the beach. Then she threw her arms out as if presenting the view. The other side of the slope opened out into sand dunes like craters on the moon. She and Ryan had discovered them on the first day while hunting for a location for their photoshoot. ‘Come on!’ Alisha cried. ‘It’s fun.’
She charged down the first hill, the momentum propelling her straight up the next incline. Wind rushed around her, transporting her back in time. She was twelve again – on a family holiday to Tunisia, playing hide and seek with Greg in the dunes.
‘We’re meant to be looking for Erin!’ Ben called after her.
‘Bet you can’t catch me!’ was Alisha’s response. She felt alive. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so lightweight and free. Not since she was about twelve – before all the high-school drama had kicked in, before Callum, before she’d first tasted whisky or vodka. She’d spent so much time trying to prove to the world how grown-up she was, she’d forgotten how much fun it was to be young.
Roxanne, Janey, Erin. For the next hour, she wanted nothing more to do with any of them.
A smile broke out on Ben’s face and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. ‘Bet I can.’ He set off after her. Alisha screamed and followed the curve of the next dune. Behind her, Ben’s feet skidded in the sand and he slid all the way down the slope on his bottom. Alisha doubled up with laughter. The look on his face was priceless.
‘Oh, now you’re in trouble,’ he yelled. He landed back on his feet and pursued her.
With a whoop, Alisha powered up the next hill and looked for a hiding place. Marram grass swayed with the wind and would make for good cover. The brow of the next dune was particularly grassy so she sprinted for that. She almost didn’t notice Ben reach out and grab for her back. Squealing, she ducked out of the way and rolled down the dune, the sand talcum-powder-soft and warm on her bare arms and legs. She had just about made it to her feet again when Ben slid right alongside her, seemingly riding the sand.
He barrelled into her and wrestled her off her feet. Alisha could hardly breathe for laughing. His arms were around her waist and he snuck in a tickle to the ribs for good measure.
‘Get off me!’ she laughed, tears running down her face.
‘No! Got ya!’ He grinned. He pushed the hair off her face and she felt the weight of his body on top of hers. It felt right somehow.
Their lips were so close together it seemed inevitable. Like magnets pulling each other together. He leaned in to kiss her and she felt nervous. It had been a while. What if she couldn’t remember how to do it? What if there was some cool new way of doing it that no one had told her about? For the first time in a really long time, this kiss mattered.
She needn’t have worried. Ben’s lips were soft, warm and perfect against hers and suddenly she knew just what to do. She hooked her hands around the back of his head, pulling him in closer. Hip to hip. He kissed her harder and something dormant awoke inside her. Desire. She’d almost forgotten how it felt. It was like a carnival running through her veins.
Alisha felt intensely aware of every inch of her skin, of Ben’s hands on her sides, of the fact that she was wearing only a bikini top and shorts. Instead of feeling vulnerable and exposed, though, she felt safe and calm in Ben’s arms and, when his fingers traced the soft skin of her waist, she shivered, and in a totally good way.
The sun beat down on her and it was so, so easy to imagine that this was heaven.
Only then the voices started to bleed into her head, reminding her of everything she’d been trying to forget and draining the electricity from Ben’s fingers. ‘Ben, stop,’ she whispered.
‘Are you OK?’ He stopped at once, rearing back to look down at her. His legs were entwined with hers in the powdery sand.
‘I’m fine.’ She brushed sand from his cheek. ‘But this is really bad . . . I mean, we’re meant to be looking for Erin, and what about Katie? She would kill me if she knew . . .’ She pushed him back and Ben rolled off her, sitting upright in the sand.
He nodded, ruffling his hair. ‘God, Lish, I’m sorry. I got carried away.’
‘No.’ She sat close alongside him. ‘Don’t apologise. That was perfect. It felt like I’d been waiting a really long time for that.’
‘Worth the wait?’
‘Oh, yes!’ Alisha announced way too loudly. She blushed. So uncool.
‘I knew you’d be a good kisser. It’s all about the lips.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been thinking about my lips?’
Ben beamed. ‘I’m a guy with eyes. Of course I’ve been thinking about you. You must know you’re insanely hot, Alisha.’
The sun got about a hundred degrees hotter and her face blazed. ‘Shut up.’
‘It’s true.’
Alisha rubbed her eyes, making vivid mauve clouds swim under her eyelids. ‘But what about Katie? And Janey?’ She looked him in the eye. ‘Are you just the biggest manwhore ever?’
He laughed. ‘Oh, God, how do I answer that? I guess I didn’t really see you until it was too late. By the time Katie and I bro
ke up, you were with Callum. And I didn’t think you . . . saw me like that. I had a hunch you thought I was just Greg’s massively nerdy mate.’
‘Well, I did!’ Alisha giggled. ‘It took me a while to realise there was more to you than that.’
A moment of silence followed. Gulls squawked and the waves sighed beyond the dunes. ‘Katie and I are over,’ Ben said at last. ‘We were over a long time ago. It’s why we broke up. We realised we were best friends and nothing more.’
‘But the other night . . . on the beach?’
‘Oh, what, that? We needed to talk. We had a lot to catch up on and she needed a friend. I will always love Katie; she was my first girlfriend, but I’m not in love with her.’
‘Childhood sweethearts . . .’ Alisha mused.
‘. . . don’t always wind up together,’ Ben finished for her. ‘Real life isn’t like TV.’
Alisha’s head spun. She had just kissed Ben Murdoch. She didn’t keep a diary, but if she did, tonight’s entry would be a bumper edition, featuring a lengthy and highly florid account of every minute detail, from the feel of his lips against hers to the ecstasy of his touch. ‘OK, but why did you get with Janey?’ she asked.
And the temperature dropped as quickly as it had risen. Ben’s gaze fell and he looked awkwardly into the sand. ‘You were still with Callum,’ he said quietly.
Alisha was confused. Did he really like her, or was she just the last one of the gang left? Her gut told her that Ben Murdoch was about as far away from being a ‘player’ as you could get. Maybe it really had been just a case of bad timing.
Either way, this was more bad timing. Alisha clambered to her feet. ‘Come on. We need to look for Erin.’
Ben rose. ‘Are you sure we’re cool, Alisha? I don’t wanna give you the wrong idea. I really do—’
Alisha cut him off. ‘Ben, it’s fine. We were both caught in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything.’ She always had been a bull in a china shop, and saying those lies smashed her heart to smithereens, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t do to Katie what Rox had done to her.