Rip Current: a gripping crime suspense drama

by Amanda James

Immi comes back to her rock and sits down looking out to sea. ‘He had no feelings for anyone except himself, that’s the truth.’

  ‘Yeah, that much is obvious.’ I slip my arm around her. ‘And we can say that Mum fell under his spell, allowed herself to be swayed … but she was a grown woman too, not a child. I can’t forgive her for betraying my poor dad. I mean, what kind of a woman allows her husband to think she’s pregnant with his child, when all the time …’ I trail off, fighting back emotion.

  Immi looks at me, furrows her brows. ‘Hang on, how does she know that he wasn’t your dad? He came back at weekends, didn’t he?’

  ‘That’s what I asked her. But she said they only slept together once or twice as he was so knackered and she was so guilty. I said that nevertheless, there was a chance. You know what she said?’ Immi shakes her head, takes my hand. ‘She said that I looked too much like Ransom. She was in no doubt.’

  Immi gives a humourless bark. ‘You look nothing like him. You have hazel eyes, he had blue-grey … he had a long narrow nose …’ She falters and I see doubt creep into her eyes. Then she digs in her bag, pulls out her phone and scrolls through her photos. When she looks at me I see an ocean of unshed tears in her blue eyes. ‘You have the same nose … me too. You also have his jawline.’

  I don’t want to look at the phone screen she’s holding up, but I have to. Ransom and Immi sitting in a pub somewhere raising a glass to the camera, Ransom and Immi on a beach somewhere abroad waving, a close-up of Ransom across a dining table at Christmas wearing a paper hat at a jaunty angle. Hi nose, his jaw – very familiar – I look at them every day in the mirror.

  I push the phone back to her and release a slow breath. In all other aspects I look like my mum, the shape of my eyes, my mouth, my forehead … but there’s no denying who fathered me. Dad always said I had his eyes because mine are flecked with green like his were … but I know that’s not true now. The photos say it all. Thinking of Dad brings a new rush of emotion and Immi puts her arm round me, hugs me close, and for the next few minutes we let the tears come.

  Immi is the first to speak. ‘We could always do a DNA test?’

  I blow my nose and nudge her arm. ‘We both know there’s no need … but just to be a trillion per cent, yes we could.’ She gives me a watery smile. ‘And there is one positive thing to come out of all this.’

  ‘Yes, we’re half-sisters,’ she says with a little laugh. ‘Even when I was going berserk just now, kicking the sand and yelling, there was a small voice saying: but at least you and Bryony are sisters.’

  ‘I always wanted a sister growing up.’ I stand up and dust the sand from my jeans.

  ‘Me too. We used to say that we wished we were sisters, remember?’

  ‘I do. So now we have our wish granted.’

  ‘Yep.’ Immi glances up at me and she looks just like she did sometimes when we were kids. Vulnerable, young and unsure. She always dressed in her over-the-top personality to cover it but, from time to time, the threads came undone and allowed a glimpse of who she really was.

  ‘Let’s go and get a cream tea. It will work wonders for our mood.’ I hold my hand out, she takes it, and we hurry down the windy beach arm in arm.

  ‘Will you go and see your mum later, try and work stuff out?’

  ‘No. No, we’re done.’

  Immi drags me to a stop. ‘What – for good? You can’t mean it. You know how manipulative our d … he was. Surely you can see how she fell into his trap?’

  I shake my head and start walking again. ‘I can, but as I said, she was a grown woman. I’ll never forgive her. I have no wish to see her again.’

  ‘Oh, but she loved your dad. That much was obvious, even as a kid I could see that.’

  ‘Yes, but she betrayed him. Betrayed him in the worst way. He was the best father and husband that anyone could wish for and she …’ My thoughts are too raw, too messed up. ‘Look, let’s leave this now. I can’t deal with it.’

  ‘Okay … but please think on it. Gilly made a mistake – a pretty bad one, granted – but she’s paid for it alright.’

  I give a noncommittal grunt and we walk up the steep steps to the town. Thinking on it is all I’ve done since last night and I’m sure there will be many more hours of it. I’m also sure that Mum’s words and horror-struck face will come back to haunt me every few minutes. So will the image of the way she got on her knees, sobbing her heart out, begging me to stay as I chucked my bags in the car and drove away. I should never have driven, given what I’d had to drink, but I just had to get away as fast as I could. Being around her made my skin crawl.

  In the café we both determinedly avoid all talk of Ransom and my mother. Instead, we discuss Jonathan and Nathan, what we plan to do in the near future, and try to plan our happy ever afters. Last night I thought I’d got mine. Funny what less than twenty-four hours can do. Immi and Jonathan stayed up for hours talking, apparently. She was so grateful that I’d stuck my oar in and let him know where she was. Immi told him everything and he was calm and sensible about it all. So she’d been worrying for nothing. They’re going to make a go of it in Sheffield and then, if Immi has anything to do with it, they’re going to move to Cornwall at some point. Her father’s estate should give them more options even though she wants to give most of the money away, given how he came by it. There are many charities that would benefit – in that way out of the misery at least some good will come.

  Regarding our future, I tell her that Nate and I haven’t got that far yet because of all the shit that happened last night, and the fact that we’re taking it slowly, but I’m hopeful that we’ll stay here in Cornwall – not Newquay now for obvious reasons – and try to do the same.

  ‘Okay, but if you’re staying in Cornwall you’d better teach him how to bloody swim properly!’ Immi says, chortling.

  ‘Yeah, or I’ll be saving his life every week!’ I laugh too and despite everything, I feel the dark clouds begin to lift. It will take me a very long time to process it all, if I ever do. Perhaps I’ll need counselling, perhaps not, but one thing is for certain: I will not let an accident of birth ruin the rest of my life. Too much has happened, and I owe it to my dad. I want to make him proud of me every day. He used to say that every day was a gift, life was precious and not to waste a moment. Dad had his cut short, so I am determined to make the most of mine.

  42

  Anya takes off her jacket and sits on the bench. It’s unseasonably warm for April in England. It’s been three years since she was here, but it feels like yesterday, even though so much has happened since she was in the house on Westmorland Street. It took her many months to come to terms with what happened, but with the love of her family and friends she managed to regain her confidence and identity, just as she told the police officer, DI Masters, said she would. She had travelled her country, speaking about her ordeal, warning others. She had taken a counselling course too and helped some of those poor girls that had fallen victim.

  Today she will meet her again, this DI, or ex-DI. It seems strange thinking of her as a civilian and call her Bryony. They have spoken on the phone and it seems that Anya’s story has inspired her to change professions, to do a similar thing in the UK to what Anya herself is doing back home. Soon they will do a talk together at the college behind her and Bryony will take her on a speaking tour of some more places this week too.

  Across the wide expanse of grass surrounding the college, a tall shapely woman is striding towards her, sunlight on her long flowing hair. As she gets closer, Anya gives a start. Is this the same woman? It is, but her whole demeanour is softer, more relaxed. Bryony Masters must have left the spiky official persona behind with her old job. Anya stands as Bryony closes the gap between them, hand outstretched. They shake hands and then unexpectedly Anya feels the urge to hug Bryony, and it’s reciprocated.

  ‘My goodness, you’re looking well,’ Bryony says, standing back and taking Anya in.

  ‘You too. I didn’t recognise you at first
!’

  ‘I’m not sure how to take that,’ Bryony says, but then adds a chuckle. Anya can tell it’s to make her feel at ease, not embarrassed.

  ‘No, I meant that you look different. You seem relaxed and calm … more open, if that’s the right word.’

  ‘I am. Leaving the police and living in Padstow, Cornwall, will do that for you. The stress of my old job and the fact that I had to watch the bad guys winning most of the time just all became a bit exhausting.’

  ‘Good. And you like your new job?’

  ‘I adore it. It’s wonderful living in a small village, but I get the best of both worlds when I’m up and down the country in schools, colleges, and community centres in the big cities.’

  ‘I love mine too. My life is so different from what it was only a few years ago.’ Anya swallows a lump in her throat. Seeing Bryony has put her right back to the day in that vile house when Ransom was arrested. ‘I have a boyfriend now and a normal life. I never thought any man would want me after … but Piotr did. I was honest from the start and he has been so supportive.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Anya. I have a fairly normal life now. I do some advisory crime support type work from time to time, which can be a bit upsetting, but I’m in a relationship too. Well, we got married a few months ago actually. Believe it or not, Nathan used to be on the other side of the law from me.’

  ‘Really? How did you meet?’

  ‘Um, not sure we should go down that route – it would take too long.’ Bryony smiles, but Anya knows it’s best not to ask more.

  ‘And do you see your friend, the pretty blonde lady that encouraged me to be so brave? Imogen, I think you said her name was back then.’

  ‘I do, when we can – she lives quite a way from me. She’s married now too, to a doctor, but she has plans to move down to Cornwall next year. He has to get a post in a surgery though. It’s not that easy.’

  Anya smiles. ‘So the only person that is miserable now is Ransom. That’s how it should be.’

  ‘Actually, he’s dead. Hanged himself a few years back.’

  Anya tries to hide a triumphant smile but can’t. ‘Sorry, but this makes me happy. It is no more than he deserves. I hope his conscience made him do it.’

  Bryony tips her face to the sun and closes her eyes. ‘It would be nice to think so, but I doubt it. I doubt it very much.’ She opens her eyes and glances at her watch. ‘Okay, I think we’d better go in.’

  Anya feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach. It’s one thing talking to people back home, but it’s another talking to students in a college in the UK. ‘I might go and buy some water from the shop first.’ She points down the lane past the college.

  ‘Okay. But please don’t be nervous. I’ll be with you and you will be absolutely fine. Promise. You’re the reason I’m here today and in a minute we’re going to go inside and make a difference. If one person takes it in, and perhaps talks to someone else about what he or she heard, another girl like you once were might be saved.’

  Anya nods and swallows hard. ‘Thanks, Bryony. I will be back soon.’

  From the bench I watch Anya’s confident gait and straight back as she hurries to the shop. She is so far removed from the broken girl I remember, and this makes my heart glad. Of all the happy endings, Anya deserves hers. My phone goes off in my bag and I scrabble for it. ‘Nate? What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing. Why do you always think something’s wrong when I ring you at work?’

  ‘I don’t know – habit, I guess.’

  ‘I told you, bad news is a thing of the past with us.’

  ‘True, we have been lucky lately, but I’m not as optimistic as you, it leads to disaster in the end.’ I laugh but kind of mean it … well, a bit. The last time I allowed myself to believe things were all good was the night of my celebration dinner at Mum’s.

  ‘I was wondering if it might be a nice idea when you get back tomorrow to invite your mum round for dinner?’ Nate clears his throat. He always clears his throat when he’s nervous.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Nate. We only just got talking properly a few weeks ago when we went out for that drink … I don’t want to rush into things.’

  ‘Yeah, but, well … I kind of ran into her today in town and, well, she’s so sorry and misses you.’

  ‘You’ve asked her already, haven’t you?’

  ‘Um …’

  ‘Nate! For heaven’s sake.’

  ‘But she’s your mum and she loves you. We didn’t invite her to the wedding, I went along with you on that, but this is dinner – just dinner.’

  ‘Yes, but then she’ll expect to just fall back into our lives and—’

  ‘No she won’t because we’ll tell her, lay the cards out. Unless we want her back in our lives … it has been nearly two years after all.’

  Has it? Blimey, yes … I suppose it has. Nate sounds so hopeful, so eager to make things right. And all of a sudden I realise that so am I. Life is too short and I’m all about making a difference, so why not start at home? ‘Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. But you can sort out the food. I won’t be back until late afternoon.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll do it between my tourist drop off and my surfing lesson.’

  ‘Surfing lesson?’

  ‘Yeah … with your mum.’

  ‘Nate! I can’t believe that you would …’ But then there’s a guffaw and he’s gone.

  Little sod, he takes the biscuit. I have to laugh though. He wouldn’t have done any of that if he’d not known me inside out. Nate must have guessed it was time for me and Mum to patch things up, but that I didn’t know how. I can’t wait to get home tomorrow and put my arms around him, tell him I love him.

  Anya’s on her way back with water, a big smile on her face. I join her and together we walk up the steps to the college. ‘Right. Time to make a difference,’ I say as she opens the door.

  ‘Time to make a difference.’ She nods and walks through.

  As I follow her inside, I say a silent thanks to Immi for what she did back then, and to Nathan, and all the others that gave evidence, and to my colleagues at the station. My dad too, because without him I would never have joined the police, tried to do the right thing. Just at this moment, it feels as if they are all walking right beside us.

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to my nephew and scriptwriter Steve Langridge, who gave me great advice on all things crime related, and has always been so supportive of my work. And as always, my family, friends and the incredible team at Bloodhound Books.