The Survivors

by Jane Harper

  Chapter 26

  Mia hadn’t stirred when Kieran had crept out of the bedroom earlier, but she was up now. He found her sitting alone at the kitchen table, staring into the light of her phone screen.

  ‘Hello,’ she whispered as he looked in from the hall. The house had a heavy stillness but he had the sense that behind closed doors, his parents were awake. It had been hard work convincing Brian to come home with them after the meeting, and an exhausted Verity had steered him straight to the bedroom as soon as they’d got into the house. Mia had sat down to feed Audrey, and Kieran had lain down just to rest his eyes. When he’d next opened them, it had been the early dark of morning.

  ‘Did you get some sleep?’ he said.

  ‘On and off. I kept waking up and couldn’t stop thinking about things.’

  ‘What kind of things?’

  Mia turned her phone so he could see the screen. A girl smiled out from a news piece on the screen. Not Bronte, as Kieran had maybe expected, but Gabby.

  ‘The article’s an old one. From the tenth anniversary,’ she said in answer to his surprise. She stood to take Audrey. ‘Nothing new. I don’t know. It was just everything last night, listening to Bronte’s mum.’

  ‘I saw Trish Birch out walking just now,’ Kieran said.

  ‘Really? She didn’t have another backpack, did she?’

  ‘No. But it sounds like she’s thrown loads of them in over the years. She wasn’t even sure how many.’ Kieran mixed up a bottle of formula for Audrey and handed it to Mia as she sat back down. ‘She reckons two of them have washed back, like Gabby’s did.’

  ‘Two.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘So, not many.’

  ‘Not zero, though.’

  ‘No, that’s true.’

  Mia was quiet.

  ‘What’s up?’ he said.

  ‘Nothing. I was just thinking.’ Mia began to feed Audrey. ‘God, I was so relieved when Gabby’s bag was found washed up. I thought they were going to keep calling me and my parents into the police station every day until – well, who knows when? When I heard they’d found her bag –’ She looked back at the girl’s picture. ‘I was glad, honestly. I was happy it was over, more than I was sad about what had happened to her.’ Mia’s gaze slid to her daughter. ‘I mean, what does that say about me? She was my best friend.’

  ‘Nothing.’ Kieran sat down next to her. ‘You were fourteen years old. It doesn’t say anything.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Mia didn’t sound convinced. ‘But –’

  She stopped as they both heard the hall floorboards creak. The kitchen door opened and Verity came in, dark circles under her eyes. Mia reached out and swiped her thumb across her phone screen and Gabby disappeared.

  ‘Morning,’ Verity said, putting on the kettle.

  ‘Dad okay?’

  ‘About the same.’ Verity reached for a mug and cleared a space on the counter to set it down. She picked up her reading glasses and a creased piece of paper. It was one of the leaflets from the meeting, Kieran could see. He watched as she turned it over in her hand, looking at Bronte’s missing camera and laptop. The kettle boiled, and she set the leaflet aside.

  ‘Hey, did Pendlebury say anything to you last night?’ Kieran asked as Verity poured boiling water into her mug.

  ‘When?’

  ‘When she was helping you with Dad after the meeting. I thought you were talking.’

  Verity found a spoon and stirred. ‘She just asked how the packing for the move was going.’

  ‘That was it?’

  ‘It was a thirty-second conversation, Kieran.’

  Kieran looked around the kitchen at the stacks of half-filled boxes. Someone – Brian, he very much hoped – appeared to have packed a glass of milk in a box by Kieran’s feet. He could see the glass lying on its side now against the bottom, the yellowing stain soaking the cardboard. He looked back at the leaflet on the counter, the line where Pendlebury had folded the paper still visible.

  ‘Do you think there’s any reason she asked that, Mum?’

  ‘Like what?’ Verity’s face was firmly placid. ‘I hear she’s been asking a lot of people all sorts of things.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Kieran said. ‘But –’

  Verity simply waited.

  Kieran shrugged. ‘After that meeting, a lot of people were trying to talk to her. But she found time to ask you about the move?’

  ‘Or she found time to help a confused man on the steps and make a few seconds’ worth of small talk while she did it.’ Verity picked up her coffee. ‘I’m going to take my yoga mat outside, if either of you need anything.’

  Kieran and Mia watched her leave.

  ‘She needs to be careful,’ he said as they heard the back door close. He stood up to head to the shower. ‘We don’t want Pendlebury to start thinking things about Dad.’

  Mia turned back to her phone screen. ‘For what it’s worth, I think your mum’s smart enough to know that.’

  The morning sun was brighter by the time they got both themselves and Audrey organised enough to leave the house. They walked through town towards the cliff path, slowing as they approached Wetherby House. The ruined garden looked even worse than Kieran remembered, if that were possible. A couple more trees had been felled, he thought, and the soil in the exposed trenches looked cakey and dry.

  Mia’s gaze landed on a dirty white ute parked directly on the street outside, taking up what could have been two spots. Gardening equipment was stacked in the tray at the back.

  ‘Is that Ash’s?’ she said, squinting at the logo on the side. ‘Trying to piss off G.R. Barlin?’

  ‘Yeah, looks like it,’ Kieran said, although he couldn’t see Ash or his dog anywhere. He and Mia stopped and leaned on the fence of Wetherby House. Kieran couldn’t be sure, but it had a settled stillness that made him feel no-one was home.

  ‘Lucky George can write better than he landscapes,’ Mia said, then sighed as a cry of protest rose from the stationary pram. ‘Let’s keep moving. What did George make of last night?’

  ‘Surprised, I think, same as everyone. But Trish Birch was interesting. She reckons whatever Bronte’s mum said, she’ll run out of steam sooner or later.’

  ‘Really?’ Mia said. ‘I wonder if that’s true. It’s almost impossible to know, isn’t it? How you’d react. I think people would be relieved if this was resolved soon, though. Not just for the obvious reason. Have you been on EBOCH today?’

  Kieran shook his head as they reached the cliff path and he began pushing the pram up the slope.

  ‘It’s going mad on there,’ Mia said as they walked. ‘It’s all anyone’s talking about. And people are already getting on the front foot, outing each other over all kinds of stuff. Apparently Paul Holland and Natalie Whatshername who used to work at the school have been having an affair for four years. There’s some suggestion her youngest might be his.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘I know. I never would have picked that.’

  Kieran slowed when they neared the cemetery. Shifty was tied up at the entrance and whined as they approached. Kieran stopped to stroke his back. Through the gates, what he could see of the grounds lay deserted. No sign of Ash.

  ‘Any more mentions of my dad online?’ Kieran said as they carried on walking.

  ‘Not that I’ve seen. So that’s good at least.’ Mia’s dark hair blew across her face as they turned an exposed corner. ‘Hopefully it all calms down soon. People get hurt when old stuff gets dragged up. I mean, look at your mum when Brian let that thing slip about Finn getting a girl pregnant. I caught her in the kitchen in the middle of the night afterwards and I think she’d been crying.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Kieran said. ‘I’m surprised she took it quite so hard, though. I mean –’ They both looked at Audrey at the same time. Kieran smiled and Mia shrugged. ‘Anyone can stuff up their
birth control. It doesn’t make him a bad person or anything.’

  ‘No. Of course not,’ Mia said. ‘But it seemed like a shock for Verity. I guess it was just an unexpected reminder that Finn wasn’t perfect.’

  ‘I don’t think any of us thinks Finn was perfect.’

  Mia looked over in surprise. ‘You kind of do, though.’

  ‘No, we don’t.’

  ‘Yes, you do. You really can’t see it?’ Mia looked genuinely curious. ‘What about all those photos that are usually everywhere at your house? Finn the footy star, Finn the businessman, Finn the all-round great guy.’

  ‘Yeah, so? He was a great guy. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Mia said quickly. ‘Nothing at all. And I didn’t even really know him. I’m just saying, your folks’ place is a bit of a shrine. Plus the way you all talk about him. And that’s fine, if it helps. But –’ She saw Kieran’s expression and her tone softened. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not trying to argue about this.’

  ‘No, I know. Me neither,’ Kieran said, panting a little now under the weight of the pram as they approached the top. ‘But Finn really was a good guy.’

  Even as he said the words, a memory Kieran had almost forgotten tumbled off a dusty shelf in his mind. He couldn’t remember exactly when it was from, but it must have been a couple of years before Finn died, not long after he and Toby had started the diving business.

  What had happened? Kieran tried to dredge up the details. Finn and Toby had got themselves into a dispute with a local tradie. Something about shoddy work on the boat, which he’d then refused to repair or refund. Finn and Toby had asked, Kieran remembered now, then argued, then pleaded, but the bloke had refused to budge.

  Kieran could picture Finn, relaxing down at the beach outside the caves one warm day a couple of weeks after he and Toby had decided they hadn’t got much choice but to cut their losses. Kieran had been sixteen and lying on his towel, feeling a little light-headed from the beer and the sun and not looking forward to swimming back to the boat. Toby had been there too, of course, and Sean. And Ash as well, Kieran thought, as he pictured Finn standing there, golden in the afternoon sun. Bare-chested, beer in hand and a grin on his face as he’d made them laugh with his story of what had played out the night before. How he’d put on his best shirt, gone to the Surf and Turf where the tradie’s girlfriend was letting her hair down with a few mates and, without even breaking a sweat, had swept her off her feet and straight into the spare bed at her friend’s place.

  By the next day, anyone who was interested had heard about it. The tradie had been suitably pissed off, and everyone else – Finn, Toby, Ash, perhaps not Sean, but even Brian – had laughed, and agreed it was no more than the dickhead deserved.

  Kieran slowed as he walked along the cliff path with Mia and their baby daughter and wondered – for the first time ever, he realised with a flush of shame – what the girl herself had made of it all.

  Ahead on the path, Mia was saying something. ‘I mean, Finn was your brother, obviously you’re going to miss him. It’s just what I was talking about the other day, how grieving people naturally focus on the good bits. You’re not the only ones though. Olivia does it too, Trish Birch definitely. Sean about Toby. Liam too, of course. Bronte’s parents, I would imagine –’

  Mia stopped as they hit the lookout. Even from up there, they could hear the shrieks echoing below. The birds were screaming again.

  ‘What is going on?’ Mia put a hand against the safety rail and leaned over. ‘I’ve never seen them like this.’

  ‘They were riled up the other day when I went down there –’ He stopped as Mia looked up sharply.

  ‘I didn’t know you went down there.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I thought you’d stopped doing that.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Mia was watching him now.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. But it was low tide. I had my phone if anything happened.’

  ‘It’s not the safety stuff. Or not only that.’ Mia looked out, beyond The Survivors to where the Nautilus Blue was bobbing in the waves above the site of the Mary Minerva, the dive flag raised. She turned back to Kieran. ‘I mean, are you okay? Being back here?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I am. It wasn’t –’

  He stopped and they both turned again as another chorus of shrieks bounced off the rocks, echoing and discordant. Kieran hoisted himself up onto the barrier and leaned over at the waist, looking straight down, beyond the overhang to the sliver of beach that was visible.

  ‘Can you see –?’ Kieran started as Mia held up a hand.

  She was craning her neck at an angle, listening, but all he could hear beneath the screech of birds was the wash of the sea. Neither spoke, then suddenly Mia pointed.

  Kieran leaned over the barrier again. At first, he could see nothing. Then, all at once, he caught it. A shadow flickering dark against the sand. From the angle and the position of the sun, it had to be thrown by the scramble of movement from one place. Kieran watched. The shadow was gone, but only from sight. He looked at Mia. Someone was at the mouth of the caves.

  Chapter 27

  Kieran could hear Audrey’s cries growing fainter as he edged down the overgrown path. Mia had tried to stop him.

  ‘Don’t. Please, Kieran. Seriously. It doesn’t matter who’s down there.’

  He had leaned over the safety rail as far as he could. ‘What if they don’t know how deep the tunnels run? Or about the tide?’

  Mia had leaned out again as well, squinting into the wind. They could see no-one. She had pushed her hair out of her eyes, exasperated.

  ‘Oh God, I don’t know. Is it bad if I say I don’t care? Please, don’t go. I know you think what happened to Bronte can’t happen –’

  Another flicker of shadow and they both stopped.

  ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘I’ll go down halfway and stay on the path. See if I can spot anyone from there.’

  Mia had eventually agreed. Kieran had left her and Audrey at the top, looking down over the water. The gust of wind caught Audrey’s wail, mournful and pleading, and Kieran almost stopped walking. He was no longer quite sure why this had seemed like a good idea.

  He made himself go to the halfway point, where his view of the caves was completely obscured by a jutting-out rock. Kieran debated, then went a few steps lower. He stopped as the path rounded the curve, revealing the water below, grey-blue and glistening. The shadow had disappeared and the stretch of empty beach lay before him. The birds circled warily overhead.

  ‘Who’s down here?’ Kieran called, his voice bouncing off the rocks.

  The faint echo was swallowed by the sea. No-one replied.

  ‘I saw you.’ His words repeated, tumbling over themselves before fading away. ‘You’re not supposed to be down here.’

  The only response was the roll of the water, leaving a foamy residue as it chased itself in and out. Then the birds collectively seemed to bristle and Kieran felt himself tense a split second before he registered the flash of movement.

  A shadow, tight and black in the sun, emerged from the hidden gloom of the South Cave. Someone stepped out, blinking as the darkness gave way to daylight.

  Kieran squinted as the figure became clear, then he sighed and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Mia.

  It’s fine. It’s Sue Pendlebury. I’m going down.

  ‘Kieran.’ Pendlebury raised a hand as she saw him. She looked a little windswept and damp as she headed across the beach, a fine dusting of sand in her hair. She had a computer tablet tucked under her arm.

  ‘Was that you I heard?’ She looked back at the cave and frowned. ‘The sound’s unusual in there. It seems to get swallowed up somehow.’

  ‘Yeah, it does.’ Kieran met her near the tideline. �
��It’s the tunnels. Makes it hard to tell where it’s coming from.’ He looked around. ‘Is Renn here?’

  ‘Just me. Sergeant Renn is with Bronte’s parents.’

  ‘How are they?’

  ‘Hopeful we can give them the answer they need,’ Pendlebury said. ‘As am I.’

  ‘Right.’ Kieran could see that the cuffs of Pendlebury’s trousers were damp and he wondered how far she’d gone into the caves. The routes were strewn with pools, some shallow, some deceptively deep. ‘Is there something you wanted down here? Because the tide’s still pretty high. Some of the cave tunnels are below sea level. If you get lost, you can drown. It’s not safe.’

  ‘Understood.’ Pendlebury nodded out to sea. ‘It was really them I wanted to look at.’

  ‘The Survivors?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She tilted her head as she scrutinised the three figures. Kieran waited, watching the salt water wash against the sculpture.

  ‘Are they supposed to be happy or sad?’ Pendlebury said suddenly. ‘I mean, is it a celebration of the people who made it, or a memorial to the ones who didn’t?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kieran said. ‘I think it could be either.’

  ‘Open to interpretation?’ she said as he shrugged. ‘To be honest, I don’t really get art. It’s more my husband’s thing.’

  Kieran watched as she took the computer tablet out from under her arm and turned it on. She held it at about shoulder height, her eyes going from screen to sculpture and back again. It was deliberately tilted at such an angle that he couldn’t see what she was looking at. Pendlebury glanced over at him.

  ‘Your mum really should have told me about your dad’s connection with the Gabby Birch case, you know,’ she said, her gaze now back on the statue. ‘Or you should have. Last person to see the girl before she disappeared? I had to find that out for myself, and when I have to find things out for myself –’ She reached up and swiped the screen. ‘– It makes me wonder why.’

  Kieran blinked at the sudden change of topic. ‘Yeah, I know that. And Mum does too. There’s nothing in it, though.’