by Amanda James
No closer to a solution about what to do, Nathan settles down in the comfy bed and is certain that his troubled mind won’t allow sleep. But in ten minutes he feels himself drifting. Perhaps his dreams will give him inspiration about how to warn Bryony, how to make this whole bloody mess disappear. He turns his body towards the song of the sea coming in through the open window and surrenders to sleep.
At last he’s caught a wave, is standing up! And now he isn’t … he’s under the water with half the Atlantic on top of him. Nathan shoves his feet into the sand and powers up and out, the surfboard dragging on the cord at his ankle. Bryony and Imogen are nearby, clapping and cheering.
‘You stood up and caught a wave on your first day!’ Bryony says, wading towards him. ‘I see a great surfing future in front of you, Jacob.’
Though Jacob is his middle name, he has to keep reminding himself to answer to it. ‘I don’t know about that.’ He smiles and shoves his wet hair back from his forehead. ‘But I’m pretty pleased I did that after about a thousand attempts!’
‘It wasn’t that many!’ Imogen says, kicking a spray of water at him. ‘It took me much longer to master it.’
Bryony turns to her. ‘Eh? You’ve been at it nearly three days and still haven’t stood up!’
‘That’s right, tell the whole bloody beach, why don’t you?’ She kicks another spray at Bryony and then runs up the beach towards a group of surfers gathered around their boards.
Bryony shields her eyes from the sun and watches her. ‘Looks like she’s found Mum and my auntie Jen with the surf school. I should be helping out really. Come and meet them though.’
Nathan protests but Bryony just links arms and drags him out of the water. The last thing he wants to do is to get too friendly with the family, because the information he hopes to share with Bryony somehow will make him seem too callous for words. He clears his throat as they get nearer to the surfers. ‘Hope your mum doesn’t want me to show her how I’ve mastered the waves this morning.’
‘Gilly, this is Jacob, the man your daughter rescued from drowning yesterday,’ Imogen crows as they come to a stop.
‘No worries about me showing her my mastery then after that introduction,’ Nathan mutters to Bryony and she leans into him and laughs.
He shakes hands with her mum and aunt, and her mum says, ‘You know when someone saves your life, Jacob, you have to repay them, if not in kind, then as best you can. You are indebted to them for the rest of your life.’
‘Mum! For goodness’ sake.’ Bryony rolls her eyes.
Nathan can see the spark of humour in Gilly’s eyes but he knows the essence of her words is true. He aims to honour them to the letter. ‘I want to do everything I can to make your daughter happy, Gilly.’ He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.
‘Ooh!’ Imogen says and puts her hand out. ‘I’m her oldest friend – do I get a hand kiss too?’
Nathan kisses it and everyone laughs. So much for not getting to know the family. ‘Now I must be going and leave you to your work.’ He nods at the group a little way off, practising their moves on the sand. ‘It’s been great to meet you all and if you’ll just give me your phone number, Bryony, I’ll make sure I think of some way to thank you.’
Bryony shakes her head and her wet hair shimmers, flicks round her face. ‘No need, honestly. I was happy to do it—’
‘Please. I insist. I couldn’t bear to think we’ll just go our separate ways and I won’t be able to ever contact you again.’ Eh? That sounds a bit romantic doesn’t it? Bryony’s high colour confirms his thought.
‘Here it is, Jacob,’ Imogen says, thrusting a damp bit of paper with a number scrawled across it. It also has an address and Please come to dinner tonight at 7! written underneath.
Bryony grabs it. ‘Imogen! Jacob might not want to come to dinner, he might have other plans.’ She looks at Nathan and then away, her colour deepening further.
‘Of course he hasn’t!’ Jen says, snatching the paper and giving it back to Nathan. ‘He’d like nothing better, would you, Jacob?’
Nathan opens his mouth to try and make an excuse, but before he can say anything Gilly says, ‘He’d love to come! And Bryony makes a legendary fish pie, don’t you, love?’
He can’t read Bryony because she’s looking at the sand, but she does have a ghost of a smile on her face. Maybe he can get her alone somehow this evening, think of a way to broach the problem? Aware that everyone apart from Bryony is still looking at him, waiting for an answer, he says, ‘Of course, I’d be delighted. How can I turn down a fish pie of such high standard?’
The wine has loosened everyone’s tongue and I can see at the end of the table that Imogen is getting a bit worse for wear. I’ll have to watch her very closely. Right now she’s telling a joke that she can’t remember the punchline of, and everyone’s trying to help her out. Everyone being Jacob, Jen, Uncle Graham, Mum, and me. They’re having a good time, and so am I, apart from the fact that I’m worried about Immi. She’s already told Jacob all about my job, even though I told her to keep it to herself. Some people are funny about coppers. He seemed fine though and asked me a few questions. He totally gets why I want to leave, though of course Imogen’s dad never came into it – at least she managed to keep her gob shut about that.
Mum collared me in the kitchen earlier and told me how much she likes Jacob and what a nice couple we would make. For goodness’ sake. What’s wrong with the women in my life? I told her that Imogen fancies the pants off him, but she, like Immi, said he’s not interested in her, only me. I watch my fingers twist the stem of the wine glass round and round on the table. If it’s true that he fancies me, his feelings are probably confused because of the fact that I rescued him. If someone saved my life, then I’d look pretty favourably upon the saviour. Probably wouldn’t extend to fancying them though. I glance up and catch Jacob’s eye. He smiles and takes a sip of wine, his intense green eyes never leaving mine. Oh God. I think they’re right. That look says it all. And my body is not behaving in an appropriate manner. I blush and maintain the eye contact. This is really not a good idea with all the changes I aim to make in my life. I force myself to look away and decide to go out into the garden to cool off.
There’s a stiff breeze coming off the Atlantic and I’m glad I picked my favourite hoodie off the peg before I came out. It’s lovely, though, standing here, my back to a tree, being buffeted by the salt wind, cosy from the wine and the great evening. The lights round the patio look cosy too. In fact everything is made of cosy. My fish pie went down even better this time too. Maybe I’ll try adding a few prawns next—
‘Bryony? Blimey, what you doing out here, it’s freezing?’
I turn towards Jacob coming round the side of the house and across the lawn. I put a fixed smile on my face. I’m hardly going to tell him the truth, am I? ‘Freezing? Call yourself a northerner? Just needed a bit of air and peace and quiet.’
‘Yeah, it’s noisy in there. Immi is certainly having fun,’ Jacob says, laughing.
‘Has she remembered the punchline yet?’
‘Nope. She’s gone on to something else now …’
‘Right.’ I’m not sure I like the mysterious tone in his voice. ‘I’d better go back in and keep an eye on her.’ I start to walk past him but he puts a gentle hand on my arm.
‘Not just yet. I need to tell you how grateful I am to you. I honestly could have died out there yesterday.’ He nods towards the ocean. ‘And everyone here has been so wonderful to me. It’s a long time since I felt so welcome anywhere.’
Something in his voice makes my heart go out to him. His hand is warm on my arm and I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘You’ve thanked me so many times. So no more, hey? And I’m glad you feel welcome.’
Then his face is close to mine; I can feel his breath on my cheek and he’s about to say something when, ‘Nah. They can’t be out here, it’s bloody freezing!’ Immi yells and bangs the back door shut.
I step back, laugh
nervously. ‘We’d better go in if a search party’s underway.’
‘No, I think she’s trying to put your mum and the others off the scent. Immi told me to come out here to you in the first place.’
‘She did? What for?’ My heart is sinking. I hope she’s not said anything ridiculous.
‘Well, that’s what I meant when I said she’s gone on to something else. I went to the loo and she waylaid me as I was coming back. She told me that she knew I fancied you and said you felt the same.’
Never have I been so glad of the cover of darkness. ‘I’ll bloody kill her when I get hold of her,’ I say through gritted teeth.
Jacob folds his arms and puts his head on one side. ‘So it’s not true then?’
‘What, that I fancy you?’ I feel like a kid in the schoolyard. What a childish question.
‘Yep.’ He kisses my cheek and I catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath.
I shake my head. ‘Look, we’ve both had a drink. Let’s just go in and we’ll talk about this another time.’
‘Because it’s true on my part. I wish it wasn’t, but …’ He gives a deep sigh and runs his hands through his hair.
What do I make of that? He likes me but he wishes he didn’t. Is he in a relationship? Married? Time to take control. That’s what I do best. ‘Jacob, you could easily be confused about your feelings because I saved your life. Let’s sleep on it and see where we are tomorrow.’ I start to walk towards the house. ‘Come on, you’re right, it is freezing.’
He follows me but stops when we get to the door, turns me to face him. The patio lights show me an earnest face, but is there anxiety in his eyes?
‘Please say we can meet up tomorrow. I have something to tell you. I’ll call you in the morning, yes?’
The best option is to say no. I know it is. But I hear myself say, ‘Yes, okay.’ Then I open the door and go inside.
20
Mawgan Porth is even nicer than the Google images, and Nathan’s breath is taken away by the stunning coastline as he drives down the steep hill to the beach. Bryony has agreed to meet him here for coffee, but has declined his offer of a lift as she has ‘other stuff’ to do later. It’s probably just as well, because when he tells her who he is and why he’s here, she’ll probably just leave anyway. Dawson messaged him earlier to tell him that his ‘sources’ had found Gilly’s address and that he should drive up and see if Imogen and Bryony are there. Nathan was tempted to thank him but say it wouldn’t be necessary as he was there for dinner last night, just to hear his reaction.
In the car park, Nathan wonders if there’s another way to warn her, but once again he’s back to thinking just being honest is the best option. She can’t arrest him, can she? At least he doesn’t think so; he’d just deny it all … but then she’s a DI and knows the law. He’s a criminal on the other side of it. Shit, he has no clue really. What he does know is that he can’t kill her and he won’t allow anyone else to. Last night in the garden he nearly made a complete idiot of himself. The wine had something to do with it, but nevertheless he still felt the same when he woke this morning. It was more than the fact she’d rescued him too. Much more.
A car swings into the space beside him and he looks through his window. It’s her. She looks stunning in a red top, her hair and make-up done. He’s not seen her wearing make-up apart from on the photo Dawson gave him, but Nathan thinks she’s beautiful with or without. Her eyes crinkle at the corners and her big smile is infectious. As he gets out of the car he vows to keep his feelings to himself. There’s absolutely no point – there is no way they would ever work out. How could they?
The warmth they shared last night is replaced by an awkward silence as they walk to the café, and once at a table it becomes excruciating. ‘Sure you wouldn’t like cake?’ he asks, just for something to fill the void.
‘No thanks, it’s not that long until lunch now,’ she says to the table and fiddles with a spoon.
‘Oh, well we could have lunch if you’d like?’
‘No. As I said, I have stuff to do.’
This is going from bad to worse. Time to bite the bullet. ‘Bryony, there’s something I have to tell you and you won’t like it. But I beg you, please hear me out.’
Her head jerks up – there’s already suspicion in those hazel eyes. ‘God, this sounds ominous. Okay, I’m listening.’
Nathan’s heart is thumping in his chest. ‘Promise you’ll stay and listen to all of it?’
Her response is quick, impatient. ‘Yes, I promise. What is it?’
Nathan takes a huge gulp of coffee and looked out of the window at the ocean. Then he looks back at her. ‘Kenny Ransom forced me to come down here. He wants me to find you and … kill you.’
Bryony drops her spoon onto her saucer with a clatter. Her face drains of colour and she grabs the table with both hands. Her eyes widen and bore into his. She sits like a statue, waiting. She opens her mouth but closes it again.
Nathan continues before he loses his nerve. ‘I could never do that, of course. I could never kill anyone … but I came. I had no idea what else to do. He has my mother. My mother who has mental health issues. I don’t know where she is. I …’ His words dry up and he looks at the floor. She is still silent. He looks up, sees anger in her face and something else … can he hope that it’s sympathy? ‘Say something … please.’
‘Say something? It’s a wonder I can bloody function after you dropped that shitload on me. What the fuck?’ Bryony shakes her head in bewilderment and runs her hands through her hair. ‘So let me get this straight. You, what, work for him?’ Nathan nods. ‘He kidnaps your mother and tells you to come down here to bump me off? So you wheedle your way into my mum’s home, pretend to be friends. I fucking rescued you, you bastard!’ She jabs a finger through the air at him and a few people turn their heads towards them. ‘I should have fucking left you to drown!’
Nathan hangs his head. He was wrong about the sympathy then. ‘It might have been best. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that—’
‘Really? Really, Jacob? If that’s your real name.’ Bryony drains her cup and slams it back on the saucer. People all around are whispering now. ‘How about you try?’
‘Shall we walk down to the beach, talk there?’
‘Why? Don’t you want everyone to know what an absolute cowardly piece of shit you are?’
Nathan covers his face with his hands and sighs. Then he gets up from the table. ‘You have every right to be furious, but please, let me explain. We can’t talk properly here.’
Bryony jumps up so fast her chair falls over with a bump. The café is silent now. ‘Okay. But tell me your real name first.’
He stands too. ‘Nathan. Nathan Walker.’
‘I prefer Jacob. I prefer the man I thought you were.’ There’s a catch in her voice and as she marches for the door she bangs her shoulder into him, hard. Opening the door she tosses back, ‘Come on then, if you’re bloody coming.’
Bryony is already sitting on a bench overlooking the beach by the time he’s hurried across the bridge and negotiated traffic on the busy road. Her opener knocks the wind out of him as he joins her. ‘What was all that shite about us liking each other last night? Was that just another way to lull me into a false sense of security while you whipped a knife out of your pocket and gutted me?’
‘No! Please believe me, that is so far from the truth—’
‘Truth!’ She whips round to face him. ‘You wouldn’t know the truth if it ran up this beach and whacked a surfboard round your fucking head, Nathan!’
What a visual image. Despite the gravity of the situation Nathan has to bite the inside of his lip to stop a smile. ‘I asked for that.’
‘I haven’t even started yet.’ Bryony dusts sand from the cuff of her jeans, crosses her legs, folds her arms and looks out to sea.
‘I think it’s best if I just start at the beginning of it all. Tell you everything I know and then we’ll see where we are.’
‘Might be wi
se.’
Nathan talks for around twenty minutes with only a raised eyebrow, a huff or stony silence from Bryony. He leaves nothing out, even the fact that Ransom had accused him of being the one who made the phone call that got Bryony round to the house to catch him red-handed. ‘Who it was I don’t know. Neither does Ransom, but he’s sure it’s you.’ Nathan hesitates. ‘Was it?’
‘No, it wasn’t.’ Bryony sighs and looks at him. ‘You say that Ransom allowed your family to live in one of his houses? Why would he do that?’
‘We’ve always lived there, for as long as I can remember. My dad worked for him. I just fell into it after I was too stupid or lazy to finish college. My sister got out and my brothers … but when Dad …’ To his surprise and annoyance he feels his eyes fill and he looks away up the beach at a woman walking a dog. A boy runs next to them flying a yellow kite high into the blue sky.
‘When your dad what?’
Nathan was encouraged by the softer tone to her voice. ‘A few years back Dad was involved in a robbery … he was the driver. The police came armed – someone must have warned them, I don’t know. Anyway, my poor dad didn’t know what was happening. He was unarmed – he’d never carry a weapon. Sat there in the fucking car like a sitting duck. Ransom ordered the others to not go back to the car and they shot their way out. A copper got killed. Dad jumped out of the car when he heard all the commotion and they shot him. Didn’t give him a chance to put his hands up. Revenge for their man, I suppose. Ransom wasn’t even there of course. Just gave orders from afar, came out of it clean as usual. He blamed my dad for being stupid, said he knew the risks.’
Bryony leans forward and puts her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. Nathan can hear her muttering, swearing under her breath. Then she sits up, looks at him and dashes moisture from her eye with the back of her hand. ‘Your dad was Paul Walker?’
‘Yeah … yes, he was,’ he says, taken aback. Did she memorise every incident? ‘Why? Were you involved in the case?’