The Survivors

by Jane Harper

  ‘He wanted to hold her. He’s doing a good job.’

  Kieran watched Brian stroke Audrey’s fine baby hair with his large palm. She reached for his thumb. Brian gazed down at her and smiled.

  ‘He’s strong,’ he said. ‘From the day he was born he was like this. A little champion. Aren’t you? My little mate.’

  ‘He thinks she’s you,’ Mia whispered.

  ‘Or Finn.’

  She shook her head, smiling. ‘He said your name before. It’s you.’

  Kieran looked at Mia as she turned back to his dad and daughter. He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but it didn’t really matter. He loved that she’d said it.

  ‘I’ll go and start dinner,’ he said at last.

  ‘I’ll go.’ Mia got up and gave him her seat. ‘You supervise this.’

  Kieran pulled up the chair and sat down beside Brian and Audrey, listening to the sounds floating down the hall from the kitchen and the gentle wash of the tide.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kieran said quietly. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to Finn. I really hope you know that.’

  Brian glanced up, then back down at Audrey, the faint smile on his face never changing. It was impossible to know if he understood. Kieran searched his milky eyes for any sign of lucidity, something more than a confused man lost to illness. He could see nothing.

  Kieran opened his mouth to say more, then stopped. His dad looked happy. Relaxing in his family home, a cold drink of sorts on the table next to him, his granddaughter in his arms, listening to his beloved ocean.

  Could this be enough? Kieran wondered. If this was all that was possible? If Brian didn’t remember what he thought Kieran had done, didn’t remember those black days when they lost Finn? If what had happened was gone forever, was that the same as forgiveness? Kieran wasn’t sure, but he thought about it, as they sat there together, looking out at the moon on the water.

  After a while, the back door opened and Mia put her head out. She saw Audrey dozing again and dropped her voice to a whisper.

  ‘Dinner’s nearly ready.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Mia looked at Brian, who hadn’t even turned his head. ‘I guess we’ll offer him some? See if he’ll take it?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Kieran gave her a small smile. ‘He still seems quite out of it. He missed his perfect cue to blink to life and tell me that nothing that happened to Finn was my fault and he loves me and forgives me.’

  ‘That’s annoying.’ Mia trailed her fingers over Kieran’s hand as she moved past. ‘I still love you, for what it’s worth. And Audrey does, I’m pretty sure.’

  ‘Thank you. Me too.’ Kieran looked at her, leaning against the railing. The night sky was big behind her. ‘We should get married, Mia. You and me.’

  ‘Yeah –’ She started to smile but was forced to stifle a yawn, covering her mouth as they both laughed. ‘God, I’m sorry. I am so tired. But yes, definitely.’ She smiled at him, for real this time. ‘I think we should, too.’

  ‘We could do it soon, when we get home. Don’t you reckon? This autumn or something, before it gets too cold.’

  ‘That sounds nice. Get Audrey a little bridesmaid’s outfit.’ Mia leaned in, put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him gently. ‘Let’s do it. It’d be really good. I’d love it.’

  ‘I would too,’ Kieran said. ‘It’d be great.’

  They looked at each other for a long minute, grinning. Even Brian looked happy.

  ‘Do you think anyone would come?’ Kieran said, looking from his dad to the quiet house.

  ‘You mean your mum? She’ll come.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘She will,’ Mia said. ‘She’s hurt right now. And maybe she hasn’t handled all this as well as she could have, but if she didn’t love you, you’d have found out for sure twelve years ago.’

  Kieran sat for a moment, thinking about that.

  ‘It’s so weird, isn’t it? How one thing can change so much,’ he said. ‘If that storm had fizzled out at sea, or hit a few kilometres further up the coast, who knows what would have happened? Or wouldn’t? Finn would probably still be here. Dad would still be like this, I guess, but these last few years wouldn’t have been the same at all. Change that one day and everything would have been different.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Mia’s voice was soft in the night. ‘But maybe not all the changes were for the worse. Sometimes I think what happened to Finn –’ She paused. ‘I’m not for a minute saying that was a good thing, of course not. But you’re right. It did change your life, but I’m not sure it was in the way you sometimes think it was.’ She was lit up by the glow spilling from the house. ‘Honestly, Kieran, I think it made you a better person. Kinder, definitely. More aware of other people, more conscious of your actions.’

  Kieran looked at her and she shrugged.

  ‘You have changed since back then.’ Mia nodded at their sleeping daughter. ‘Because if you hadn’t, if you were the same person now as you were when the storm hit, there’s no way the three of us would be together.’

  Audrey snuffled and stirred a little in Brian’s arms. Kieran watched her, imagining for a second that different world and a different life. He reached out for Mia.

  ‘That would be no good at all.’

  ‘Honestly?’ Mia reached back. ‘The old you wouldn’t even care.’

  Kieran woke up in the middle of the night instantly certain of something, but something that vanished as soon as he opened his eyes. He lay there staring at the ceiling, listening for the summoning cry from the cot, but for once all he could hear was the gentle wheeze of Audrey’s breath as she slept on. He could feel Mia warm and still beside him.

  Kieran closed his eyes again, waiting for either the thought or sleep to return. Neither did and as the pre-dawn blue seeped in and Audrey’s breaths grew less steady and more alert, he scooped her out of her cot, grabbed his towel and board shorts and crept through to the kitchen.

  Verity was already there.

  She was sitting at the table with a single light on and a photo album open in front of her. She hadn’t joined them for dinner the night before, despite both Kieran and Mia knocking on the bedroom door. In the end they had left a plate of food outside in the hall, which had remained untouched until they went to bed. Brian, though, perhaps sensing his moment to rise to the occasion, had been surprisingly compliant and all four, including Audrey, had sat and eaten together for what Kieran thought could be the last time in that house. A little hushed, a little different from how any of them had expected their family to be, but together nonetheless. Kieran had watched Audrey with Brian, the two of them smiling at each other in an instinctive and reflexive display of love. Life going on, like it or not.

  Verity looked up from that same kitchen table now as Kieran hovered in the doorway.

  ‘Mum –’

  ‘Kieran, I am so sorry.’ Her voice was quiet.

  ‘Me too.’

  Verity’s eyes dropped back to the photo album. The page was open to the instantly recognisable image of Finn and Toby, taken on the day they launched the Nautilus Black, champagne and smiles on the dock.

  ‘I felt so angry,’ she said. ‘With you.’

  ‘I know. I am sorry.’

  ‘I don’t feel that way now.’ Verity lifted her head to face him. ‘Whatever I said yesterday. I really don’t. What happened to Finn wasn’t your fault. Timings or no timings, I’ve always known that. They would have gone out there for anyone in the water when that emergency call came in. In the same situation, Finn would always have made that choice.’

  ‘It wasn’t anyone in the water, though,’ Kieran said. ‘It was me.’

  ‘It happened to be you, but that still doesn’t make it your fault.’

  Verity beckoned for him to sit down and Kieran pulled out a chair. He could see the photo in fr
ont of her. The scene was familiar, but up close he could tell it wasn’t the same shot that had hung as a memorial in the Surf and Turf all those years ago, or even the one that he’d found while he was cleaning out the living room. It was yet a third variation, Finn and Toby turned a little more one way or the other, their smiles caught a split second earlier or later. Minor details, Kieran thought. Not enough to make a real difference. The picture still captured Finn at his happiest.

  ‘And I don’t know what I can say about that backpack,’ Verity said quietly. ‘Other than that Finn was a good man. I know he was. But us losing him wasn’t your fault, Kieran, and I should have said that years ago. It was a terrible accident, and that’s all it ever was.’ She raised her eyes. ‘I hoped you understood that, but I should have made sure you did.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Actually, no. Even that’s not completely true,’ Verity said suddenly. She ran her thumb over Finn’s photo. ‘I knew you felt responsible. And I let you. There’s no excuse for that. But God, I was just so sad, Kieran. And I was angry with Brian for not coping. I felt like I couldn’t say how hard I was finding it, because he was always struggling enough for the both of us. But we never really blamed you, Kieran. You should know that. We just wanted Finn back.’

  ‘I am really sorry, though.’ Kieran’s throat and chest felt tight. ‘I wish things had been different.’

  ‘They could have been different.’ Verity looked down at the photo once more, then turned the page. ‘We could have lost both of you that afternoon. But you’re here, with Mia and Audrey. I still have you, instead of just memories of both my sons stuck in a photo album. And I’m grateful for that every day.’

  Kieran leaned over and hugged her, Audrey’s little body solid and warm between them. Verity hugged him back and for the first time in a long time, he felt like she meant it.

  ‘I heard you talking before about leaving early,’ she said as he pulled away. ‘Please don’t. Not if you don’t want to.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll talk to Mia. Either way, it’s good to be here now.’ He could feel the boxes by his feet under the table. He hesitated. It was worth one more try. ‘Move to Sydney, Mum. We can find somewhere up there for Dad. It will make no real difference to him, and it would make a big difference to you. And to us.’

  He braced himself for the standard barrage of excuses, but to his surprise Verity reached out and stroked Audrey’s hand. ‘You don’t think I’ve left everything too late?’

  ‘I really don’t.’ Kieran shook his head. ‘It’s not too late.’

  ‘No?’ Verity let Audrey’s fingers wrap around her own. ‘Well, maybe it’s not, then.’

  Twenty minutes later, Kieran was out on the beach as the sun crept up over the horizon. Audrey lay fed and warm in her sleeping bag on the sand while Kieran ploughed through the waves. For once, he found he was simply enjoying it.

  When he got out, his mind felt clearer than it had in a while. He sat on the beach next to Audrey and together they watched the early-morning sunlight glint gold on the water. Audrey smiled as a seagull waddled closer and Kieran took out his phone from under his towel and snapped a couple of photos.

  He shielded the screen from the growing glare and scrolled between the pictures, trying to decide which was the best one to send to Mia. Back and forth, back and forth. It didn’t matter. They were almost identical.

  Kieran’s thumb stopped against an image. The nagging feeling was back. The subtle, slippery one that had plagued him yesterday at the beach and last night as he spoke to George Barlin. The one that had woken him. The same one, he realised now, that had hovered almost imperceptibly in the early morning dark of the kitchen as he’d joined Verity at the table.

  Kieran almost had it. For a single moment, he had almost caught it as he sat there on the beach. What was it? He made himself concentrate. Verity at the table. The photo of Finn and Toby and the Nautilus Black. That felt close somehow. What was it about those photos? Variations he had seen so many times over the years. Similar, but not the same.

  And, all of a sudden, there it was.

  Kieran stood up abruptly, startling Audrey.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said as her face crumpled. ‘Sorry.’

  He picked her up and held her in his arms. He rocked her gently as the thought that had been bothering him – the fluid, flowing pull at the edge of his consciousness – grew solid and took shape. At last, Kieran could grasp it and examine it, as he stood on the beach and looked out at the ocean, a realisation dawning with the light.

  Chapter 36

  Kieran stopped on the back verandah just long enough to brush the sand off himself and Audrey. He let them into the hallway, hurrying now, but paused at the bedroom door. He looked in. Mia’s side of the bed was already empty, the covers thrown back.

  In the kitchen, Verity’s coffee mug was rinsed and drying on the rack and the door to his parents’ room was shut. Kieran stood in the hall, debating. From the bathroom opposite he could hear the sound of the shower running. He knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer, he checked the time and tried again. The water continued to run.

  Kieran looked at Audrey. ‘All right, little one.’ He took her back through to the bedroom and laid her carefully in her cot. ‘I’ve got to go, but someone will be out soon. Shout if you need anything.’

  Audrey looked very much like she was planning to do exactly that as Kieran scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen table. He grabbed his shirt and shoes from the hall and pulled the back door closed behind him.

  He went the beach way, which had always been the fastest. There was no movement around Fisherman’s Cottage now, but the house still had a different feel as he passed. A dull emptiness. Bronte’s window, where Kieran could picture her standing as she listened for noises in the night, was blank. The foreshore was bare now. Someone had removed the decaying flowers from near the shallows where her body had been found. The sea had washed clean any sign she had ever been there.

  Kieran walked on, past the marina where he could make out the Nautilus Blue in the dock. He slowed his pace, wondering what would happen to the business when word spread about Gabby’s bag having been found on board the near-namesake boat. The Norwegians might not care, but the locals would.

  Kieran turned and kept moving, towards town, past the police station. He thought about Sergeant Renn, and his promise to have those painful and long overdue conversations with two families today, and Kieran very nearly stopped. He spent a minute in silent debate and then, checking the time, pressed on.

  The lure of caffeine had attracted a few early risers through the doors of the Surf and Turf that morning at least. Kieran could see Lyn through the window, carrying a tray. There was no sign of Julian or Liam. No Olivia either, although he hadn’t expected to see her. Kieran remembered the strain on her face in the Surf and Turf the night before last and wondered whether she’d woken up that morning at her mother’s house or at Ash’s place. Kieran guessed it depended where she felt more secure. Anywhere was probably better than the hollow loneliness of Fisherman’s Cottage now.

  Kieran continued on, not slowing outside George Barlin’s house this time. In daylight, the garden looked even worse than it had at night. Kieran glanced at the windows, but he could see no movement inside. The niggling sensation started up again, but Kieran knew now what it had been trying to tell him. What had George said, as he’d leaned against his own fence the night before, his expression hard to read in the dark?

  The writing’s on the wall.

  Kieran did not stop until he reached the top of the cliff path. There, he paused at the lookout, leaning against the safety rail as he had so many times before, feeling the wind rushing over the sea and rocks. There was no-one in sight.

  Below, the ocean was large and empty, all the way to the perfect horizon. He leaned over, craning his neck. The beach below was a thin strip, small enough
that Kieran immediately felt uneasy. Out to sea, the waves lapped high against The Survivors. All around him, the birds bristled and flapped.

  Kieran looked out at the water, to the spot where he had last seen Finn. The guilt was still there, like a scar, but now it felt different. What Kieran had always believed, and what had really happened that day, were not one and the same. He understood that, even if he hadn’t quite accepted it yet. Still, he repeated it to himself silently, turning the information over and over in his mind. What it had meant then, what it meant now.

  Kieran stepped past the barrier and started to make his way down. At the bottom of the cliff, the water was washing up high over the sand and he checked the time again. The tide was coming in. But it was not there yet.

  Kieran ignored the South Cave, where he and Olivia had met on that strange day as the sea and storm moved in. Instead, he stood at the mouth of the North Cave. As the edge of the water nudged his shoes, he looked at the names that had been carved into the rock. The marks left behind by him and his brother and their friends. And he thought of Pendlebury. What had she asked him as she stood there, so deliberate and precise, in this very spot?

  Can we find them all?

  They could be anywhere.

  Kieran stared into the yawning mouth of the cave, and the blackness inside. The eerie sensation of something watching and waiting trickled through him once more. He stood on high alert, but he could hear nothing but the heartbeat pulse of the ocean.

  He could go in, step through the entrance and into the gloom. He could speed this up. But he had already spent too long mentally navigating the dark of those caves, wandering exhausted over the same old ground. Battling to change something that couldn’t be changed, instead of trying to find his way out to the light.

  Enough, Kieran thought. It was time to stop.

  He stepped away. The sea water was creeping around his feet. He didn’t need to go in. High tide had a way of washing everything out.