by Linda Coles
“It’s a bit late in the year for the nesting season apparently. I just looked it up and it’s only until late July, so long gone.” The frown over his eyes told her he was concerned about Richard’s absence too.
“Did you get hold of the tour guide?” she whispered.
“Answerphone, so I left a message.”
“God, I feel awful about all this now, don’t you?”
Adam nodded then took plates from the cupboard, and along with the sandwiches, the three hunched over at the table. A pot of tea sat in the centre and Chrissy poured three mugs before tucking into a chicken sandwich herself.
“I don’t suppose we have a first aid kit between us?” asked Julie. Two sets of amused eyes turned towards her and she stopped chewing. “What?”
“There’ll be one in a cupboard I expect,” offered Adam. “Good idea, Julie,” he said soundly. If Richard had in fact had an accident of some kind up on those cliffs, a plaster wasn’t going to cut it. Still, her heart was in the right place, even if her thinking was a little off. Chrissy rose, grabbed an empty plastic tub and placed a sandwich inside it. She took a bottle of water from the fridge, found a small first aid kit in a kitchen cupboard and loaded everything into Adam’s backpack. “He may be hungry,” she said matter-of-factly before stuffing the remains of her own sandwich in her mouth and refastening her boots. If this wasn’t nesting season, perhaps they should get moving right away.
“Let’s get going,” she encouraged. “Bring your sandwich with you. Adam, should we drive back to the visitor centre in case we pass him on the road coming back this way?”
“Good idea.” He grabbed his own jacket, sandwich held firmly in his mouth as he slipped it on. Julie left hers on her plate.
“I’m worried,” she said. Her bottom lip began to quiver.
“We’ll find him,” Adam said, smiling, trying to keep her spirits up. He hoped he sounded more positive than he felt.
Richard wasn’t likely lying in the grass photographing a gull after all.
Chapter 8
By the time they’d travelled in virtual silence back to the visitor centre, they knew Richard wasn’t out on the road. Since no shuttle buses had passed going in the opposite direction, there seemed only one place left to look. The cliffs. Adam parked up in the car park and the three climbed out. The wind had cranked up a notch and Julie fought to pull her hat on without it being snatched from her hands. Having already braced the cliffs once that day, both Chrissy and Adam knew how fierce the wind would be gusting further on up the trail and glanced a little nervously at each other, hoping Julie didn’t cotton on to their thoughts. Adam readjusted his backpack and together the trio set off up the path back towards Doolin.
“Do you think he carried on and walked the rest of the cliff walk to Hags Head? We might be going in the wrong direction,” Chrissy suggested as they set out.
“I’d doubt it, but anything’s possible,” said Adam. “We’ll look if we don’t find him this way,” he said, pointing. Even though the 10 am tour was well and truly finished, there were still plenty of people milling about doing their own thing. Not everyone was interested in the history of the place and therefore didn’t need a guide. Many travelled for the stunning ocean views and the remote and blustery feel of the place as they imagined fantastical scenes from days gone by in their heads, or scenes from the great movies that had been filmed in the spectacular surroundings. And not everyone wanted to be on a timetable on their holiday.
By the end of the first mile in, other walkers had thinned out somewhat as the early afternoon marched on into late. Chrissy was thankful the sun was still shining, and they weren’t having to deal with horizontal rain on top of the fierce wind as they ploughed on. The three alternated who called out for Richard, and Adam and Chrissy walked as close to the cliff edge as they dared, peering over the top. If there had been an accident, neither of them wanted Julie to be the person to spot his body lying on the rugged rocks below, bashed and smashed by the roiling surf. It hadn’t been lost on either of them that, with the tide going out, Richard could have drowned and been swept out to sea. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Adam’s phone buzzed in his pocket and as he retrieved it to look at the screen, he noted it was a local number. He ducked down to shield the phone from the wind as he answered the call.
“Adam speaking.”
A heavy Irish accent boomed back at him;. It was the tour guide from earlier.
“Have you found your friend?” he asked.
“We’re on the track again now, and not as yet. Any ideas where he might be, places of photographic interest? I believe it’s a bit late for birds nesting.”
“No birds nesting at this time of year, no. There are so many places he could be, even out of nesting season, sorry.”
“Thanks anyway. I did wonder.”
“Did he go on to Hags Head, do you think?”
“I doubt it, but it’s a possibility. We’ll search this side first then check back at the house. I guess we’ll have to get help if we don’t find him.”
“Right. You will, so. Keep me up to date, will you? I know those cliffs like the back of my hand, every crevice.”
“I will. And thanks.”
Adam slipped the phone back into his pocket as Chrissy and Julie stood nervously by.
“What’s he say?” Julie asked urgently.
“There’s several places, not far up here.” It was the right time for a white lie, to give Julie hope. He just hoped Richard was only a little way ahead.
“And if he’s not there?”
Panic was starting to set in with Julie. While Richard could be a bit of a bore at times, he was her Richard and she wouldn’t be without him.
“If he’s not there, we’ll carry on to Doolin and you go back to the house. He may be there. I’ll run back to the car this way then drive home. If he’s not at the house reading his newspaper, we need to alert the authorities before much longer and it starts to go dark.”
Tears started to trickle down Julie’s cheeks and she hurriedly wiped them away, not wanting the others to see. Chrissy slipped her arm around her sister’s shoulder and comforted her.
“We’ll find him.”
“Why didn’t he take his phone with him!” she demanded, her lower lip quivering again. “He could be lying in a ditch with a broken leg, cold and frightened.”
“Then let’s get a move on, shall we?” Chrissy said in encouragement. “Let’s get him home in time for dinner.”
Julie nodded furiously. As the two women set off, Adam hung back behind them. He felt mean at the fib, but it was for Julie’s sake, in an attempt to keep her spirits high. The two girls called out as Adam continued to scan over the edge of the cliff.
Another five hundred metres or so further on something caught Adam’s eye. What looked like the sleeve of a red jacket was flapping in the wind, and it was on a ledge a good few feet down.
Richard’s jacket? He had been wearing red.
Peering over for a closer look, Adam called his name and waited. “Richard!” Wind whistled by his ears and he turned his head and cupped his ear to find a spot with less noise as he listened for a reply.
A sound came back to him, but could he be sure of what it was? He called out again and stood stock still. “Richard!” The red fabric arm seemed to move again, and this time Adam was certain of a voice on the wind. It was Richard!
“Help! Down here!” It was faint but there.
“Hold on!” he yelled back, still not sure what the situation was that Richard had found himself in. Was he hurt? If so, how badly? What the hell had happened? Adam called ahead to the girls who came running back, Julie more awkwardly than her sister, not used to rough terrain under her boots.
“Chrissy,” Adam said urgently. “Fancy a run back to the visitor centre, see if they have a rope to lower me down?” She was the best bet, the fastest of either of them, even with Adam’s long, lean legs.
“On it. But call for help in the meantime. If
he’s hurt, we can’t move him.”
“My very next job. Now, you go. Be quick!” he called as Chrissy set off at pace back towards the car park and assistance, leaving Julie and Adam to mark the spot.
“Help is on its way, my love,” Julie called down. “Hang on!”
As Chrissy raced back towards help, all the times she’d poked her tongue out behind Richard’s back flooded her mind. It was a childish habit, and one she vowed never to do again. “You’d better be all right Richard Stokes,” she panted. Emotion taking over, she suddenly felt extremely concerned for him. “I’ll not take the mickey ever again!”
She concentrated on her stride, as it wasn’t the easiest run in walking boots. The last thing she wanted was a sprained ankle, but she pressed on quickly regardless.
Chapter 9
Back at the holiday house, Richard teased, “Please, Julie. I’m fine, stop fussing,” as she tucked the blanket around his shoulders for the umpteenth time.
“The doctor said to keep you warm and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Warm, not sweating,” he said, pushing the blanket back off gently. While he didn’t want to offend his wife, he wasn’t going to stifle for her either. His badly sprained ankle was elevated on the couch in front, but it had been his dislocated collarbone that had prevented him from climbing back up from the ledge he’d found himself on after his tumble. Back in place now, it had a pulse all its own and throbbed like an idling engine. The effort of pushing the blanket back made him wince.
“See, now stay still.”
Chrissy and Adam watched on with amusement as Julie played matron and Richard rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though it was plain to see he was hurting. Miraculously, nothing was broken, but he was going to be sore for some time, and with a swollen foot, there’d be no more cliff walks on Richard’s autumn break. By the time they’d arrived home from the small local hospital, and settled him on the sofa, it was gone 7 pm.
Adam clapped his hands together as a diversion in their conversation. “I’m hungry, and since we won’t be going out tonight, I’ll see what I can create with what we have in the fridge,” he announced, standing, ready to go.
Chrissy stood beside him, “I’ll help,” she offered and the two left the room, leaving Richard and Julie to carry on playing doctors and patients.
Once out of earshot, Chrissy said, “He’s lucky, isn’t he, that he didn’t go all the way down. It doesn’t bear thinking about.” She refilled her wine glass from the bottle of red on the worktop.
“I know, but he’s home now, and to all intents and purposes he’s fine. I bet he won’t sleep much tonight though, so he’ll be tired tomorrow.” Chrissy watched as Adam all but emptied the fridge and placed ham, eggs, cheese, salad, and cream on the side. He looked over the selection thoughtfully. “Is there any pasta?”
“Pretty sure I saw some,” she said, opening cupboard doors and on finding an unopened packet of pasta bows, tossed it across to him.
“Creamy ham carbonara it is then,” he announced and got to work with his ingredients, putting a pan of water on to boil.
A knock on the rear door surprised them both. Glancing at Adam, Chrissy said, “I’ll get it,” and went to open the door.
Ciara’s voice filled the room as both she and Lorcan moved into the kitchen, all smiles as if they owned the place. Chrissy glanced sideways at Adam as the pair plonked two bottles of wine down along with what looked like a tray of tiny stuffed potatoes. Steam rose from their cheesy tops and they smelled delicious. What was going on? At the same moment, Julie walked in and shot her hand to her mouth.
“Oh heavens!” she cried. From her wide eyes, it was obvious she was startled by something, or had she forgotten something? “Damn! I’d clean forgotten all about it,” she said, finally removing her hand from her mouth.
“Forgotten what?” asked Chrissy, though she almost figured it out at the same time. People didn’t usually walk in holding hot snacks and red wine uninvited.
“While you were out, I went for a walk and bumped into Ciara and suggested they both come over for drinks and something to eat this evening. But then we lost Richard and it went clean out of my head,” she said, moving her hand to her temple, rubbing, as if it was going to help her feel better for forgetting.
Lorcan stepped in, smiling, “You lost Richard? Have you found him?” he said, trying to lighten the moment and make it less embarrassing for them all.
“We have, but not before a dramatic cliff rescue and a visit to the hospital, mind,” Adam filled in, laughing the events off. “Anyway, it’s not a problem, so why don’t you all go through to the living room where Richard is, and take the wine with you,” he said, passing the bottles back. “Julie, grab some glasses and the tray of nibbles, and I’ll be through in a moment. Then we’ll fill you in properly before I rustle dinner up,” he said.
“No, please, we can reschedule if it’s inconvenient,” Ciara said. “Don’t worry about dinner, it sounds like you’ve had a hectic day. It’s absolutely not a problem at all.” She turned to Lorcan for backup, but Adam beat him to the punch.
“And it’s not a problem here either,” he said, encouraging everyone to move inside to the living room. “It won’t be gourmet, but it’ll be tasty. Chrissy, might I utilise your chopping skills?” She understood, it wasn’t her knife skills he needed, but it was another set of hands to make use of and cook for an unscheduled party of six. She hoped he had a plan to feed everyone, because she certainly didn’t. “Absolutely, go through everyone. I dare say Julie will recite the story a tad more dramatically than either of us anyway.”
Julie took a mock bow.
“Adam and I will sort dinner and join you shortly. Just don’t eat all those nibbles before we get back, okay?” Smiling, she left them in the capable hands of Julie the storyteller. No doubt Richard would get a word in at some point. When they were alone once more, Chrissy asked, “What’s the plan, Stan?”
“A big bowl of cheesy pasta, side salad, and garlic bread if the bread rolls are still in the bread bin,” he said, searching a pantry cupboard for inspiration. It was a good job the house came with a reasonable stock of pantry staples. Past guests had likely added to the range, leaving behind what they hadn’t consumed for someone else to enjoy. Plus, the rule was if you used something, you replaced it with another item. Adam pulled out two tins of apricots and set them down along with a bag of pasta shells. “Shells and bows mixed will have to do. Can you remember how to make crumble?” he asked as he searched for a bottle of vanilla.
“I’ve got Google if all else fails,” she quipped. “Apricot crumble and vanilla sauce, I’m guessing?”
“Custard to you and me, babe,” he said, chopping ham. Sometimes the best meals were made when ingredients were scarce. In any case, they wouldn’t go hungry.
“It will be lovely. Now tell me what you want me to do.”
It was while she was fingers-deep in flour and butter that she realised something – and not for the first time since they’d met their new friends.
Where was baby Flynn, again?
Chapter 10
As it turned out, there was plenty of food to go around. Adam had worked a small miracle and turned humble pantry items into a delicious meal any TV chef would have been proud of. Chrissy would have liked to have said it had been her doing, but there was little point in embellishing the truth. She’d mixed flour and butter together and opened the apricots, but it had all been Adam’s doing. Domestic goddess she was not. It was just before midnight when Ciara and Lorcan drunkenly left the house and headed across the way towards their own place, the tiny castle off in the distance. And presumably back to their son Flynn, Chrissy thought as she watched their torchlight as they walked back. There was only a tiny white pinprick to see when Chrissy finally closed the door. Julie was washing glasses in the kitchen behind her.
“That turned out to be a nice evening after all,” Julie said, rinsing soap suds from a wine glass. “Poor Richard thou
gh, he’s totally wiped out. He’ll never live down going to sleep on dinner guests,” she said, laughing.
“Hmm?”
“Did you hear any of what I just said, Chrissy?” Julie asked.
“Sorry, sis. No, I was miles away. Thinking about young Flynn again actually.”
“What about him?”
“Well, he wasn’t with them when we met them at the pub, and he didn’t come tonight, and he could have done. I just wonder who looks after him when they go out, that’s all.” She picked up a tea towel and started to dry a wine glass. “Do you think they leave the little boy alone?”
“I don’t know, I doubt it. Why didn’t you ask earlier? There’s likely a perfectly reasonable explanation, that he’s with a sitter in the village, perhaps.”
“Mmm. Something tells me otherwise, though I can’t place what it is. I wanted to ask them tonight, but it seems a little rude to enquire. And if they did leave him all alone, what would I do with that knowledge anyway? Am I likely to report them?”
“I doubt you would, but it’s not ideal, is it?” Julie passed her another glass to dry as they both stood at the sink chatting. Chrissy spotted the plate that Ciara had brought her nibbles on earlier. It gave her an idea.
“Well, first thing I’ll take their plate back and invite myself in for coffee. Maybe the child doesn’t actually exist?”
“What? That’s a bit out there, isn’t it?” Julie said, turning to face Chrissy properly. “Why would someone make up having a child for goodness sake?”
“Part of their cover story?”
“What cover story? And why would they need one?”
“They’re on an extended holiday, Lorcan works all over the country, and we’ve never seen the child. They could be up to anything.