After the Accident: A compelling and addictive psychological suspense novel

by Kerry Wilkinson

  I’d probably been there for a couple of minutes when Amy asked if that was where Granddad fell. I told them it was, but I think they already knew. There was this moment where they both looked across towards the edge in unison. The crickets or grasshoppers were chirping nearby and there was the rush of the water. I could feel the sun prickling my skin and we felt frozen in the moment.

  Then Amy turned around and asked if I still thought of Robbie.

  Amy: I didn’t ask. Daddy told me not to.

  Emma: He is… my son… was my son…

  …

  I don’t want to say his name any more. Is that OK?

  …

  It was a question that came so out of nothing that it felt as if she’d run into me. I was winded and the hot, sticky air was clogging my lungs. I have no idea what I told them, but it was probably that my son is always in my thoughts. There is never a time where I don’t think about what he might be doing, or how he might be growing.

  Every time I looked at Amy and Chloe, I thought of how they were a few years older than him and that he would have been able to follow them around.

  When I looked at that kiddie pool in the hotel, all I could think of was how he would have been a little over four years old and that he might have been learning to swim with his dad.

  I thought that he’d love the slides, that I’d be mothering him with umbrellas and hats to keep him out of the heat. That he’d have loved the beach balls that people bounced around the main pool. That I could have got him some knock-off T-shirts from the market, and that he’d have liked the man on the corner who stood and blew bubbles all day long.

  Every time I saw anything, I thought of how it would have looked through my son’s eyes…

  …

  I probably didn’t tell them any of that. I probably just said that I still thought of him.

  Amy: Auntie Emma said it was time to go.

  Emma: One of the girls asked why people divorced.

  Amy: I didn’t ask that. Daddy wouldn’t have liked it.

  Emma: I can’t remember whether Julius and Simone were divorced or just separated at that point. When I was young, hardly anyone at school had parents who were divorced. For the generation before me, it would have been basically nobody. I suppose it’s different now. I don’t know if it’s better or worse that people stay together for their kids – but I do know that kids notice and want to ask questions.

  I told the girls that sometimes mums and dads don’t get on any longer and that, even though they both still love their children, they think it’s better to live apart.

  What else are you supposed to say?

  They knew it, anyway. Chloe gave me a sideways look as if to say: ‘Well, duh.’

  She then said that Mum and Dad – Julius and Simone – had been arguing a lot and that neither she nor Amy liked it.

  Chloe: I didn’t say that – and neither did Amy.

  Emma: Amy started to say something. I think her exact words were: ‘The other night…’ but then a look passed between the twins and she went silent. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single glance that said so much. There was something there and so I told them they can confide in me if they wanted. I wouldn’t tell their dad or mum, if that’s what they wanted.

  Amy looked to Chloe and Chloe looked to Amy – and it was like they were having an entire conversation entirely through telepathy. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  That’s when Amy told me that she’d overheard her mum saying that Julius had lost his job months ago.

  Amy: I never said anything to her. I want to stop doing this now.

  Emma: I didn’t get the significance at that moment. I didn’t know he was unemployed and I was certain he’d not told Mum or Dad. It might not have been a big deal – except, at the first dinner, Daniel had changed subjects by asking Julius how everything was going at the bank. Julius had said something about a big three months and building up lots of time owing for the holiday. I wish I’d have listened properly, but, at the time, I thought it was Julius being Julius – and bragging about a load of meaningless nonsense. I didn’t realise he was lying through his teeth.

  Julius: I’ve already said this once. I don’t think anyone asked about the bank at that first dinner.

  Daniel: I didn’t say a word to Julius about his bank on that first night.

  Claire: I don’t remember. I think Daniel might have shouted down something, but I wasn’t paying attention.

  Emma: I took the girls back to the hotel after that, figuring that I’d promised them they could confide in me. If Julius was lying about his job, then I wasn’t going to bring it up with him because I didn’t want to break the girls’ trust.

  Julius was coming out of the manager’s office just as we walked into the lobby. He ran across and ended up on his knees, with his arms around both the girls. They seemed somewhat embarrassed, while he was an understandable mix of angry and relieved. He said something like: ‘Didn’t I tell you to stay put?’ before looking up to me and asking where they’d been.

  I half thought about lying, mainly to protect them, but I couldn’t think of anything better to say than the truth. I said they were on the cliffs, but nowhere close to the edge. They wanted to see where Dad fell – and that I’d have been curious if I was their age. I thought I was helping.

  Julius: She basically called me a bad dad in front of everyone. She was saying that I should have dangled them off the cliff, or something like that, because it’s the only way they’d have lost their curiosity.

  She had some cheek.

  Liz: A right nerve on her. Imagine doing what she did to her own son – and then trying to give parenting lessons in front of everyone. Absolute liberty.

  Emma: Julius told the girls they were grounded to the room for the rest of the day and then he took them off towards the stairs. They probably got away lightly compared to one of Mum or Dad’s punishments when we were young. We’d have had a slipper across the legs, no dinner, and then been made to stay in the room for the rest of the holiday.

  Liz was watching me very closely, although she didn’t say anything right away. It was as if she was trying to figure out if I’d somehow kidnapped the girls and manufactured everything.

  Liz: I genuinely would not put it past her.

  Emma: I almost told her to do one – but then she turned around and walked off anyway.

  I was about to follow her out towards the pool and cottages when someone called my name. I’d been in such a rush to get into the lobby and find Julius that I’d not noticed the man sitting on the chair right next to the door.

  It’s fair to say I hadn’t expected to talk to him again – but that is when I found out who’d stolen my phone.

  Chapter Thirty

  THE SMELL OF SOMETHING ROTTEN

  Emma: Lander was sitting with his knees crossed, like an old man at a bus stop. It almost made me laugh, except for the way he nodded towards the front door. When he wants to be serious, his eyebrows sink and join in the middle. It was the same that afternoon as it was when I used to spend all my days with him.

  I don’t think I ever liked that expression. It always meant something bad was about to happen, or that it just had.

  I followed Lander out through the main doors and caught up to him close to where the hotel leaves the bins to be collected. There was this smell of something rotten which caught in my throat and I said to Lander: ‘Are we doing this here?’

  He was in a sort of trance and it was as if he’d not noticed the bins. He turned to look at them and blinked, before we headed off towards the cliffs.

  It was the third time I’d been there that day… though I suppose the most open place on the island was also the most private. It’s the place where couples got engaged and had artsy photos taken with the ocean and the sunset in the background. It was only minutes before that I’d been sitting with Amy and Chloe – but Lander and I stood. I had no idea what he was going to say, though he’d never been one for talking in circl
es.

  Lander: She told you…?

  Emma: He said: ‘Rhea stole your phone.’ I think I stared at him for a little while, not sure what to say. It was so direct that it took me by surprise. I would’ve said something like: ‘How do you know?’ – and then he said that he was the person who’d made her return it to my room.

  Lander: I… This isn’t what I wanted to talk about.

  Emma: I remember the exact words because Lander was pounding his fist into his palm. He said: ‘She’s not a thief, but she gets very jealous.’

  The envy stuff was largely self-evident, although I didn’t necessarily blame her. I could see why someone might have a problem with an ex-girlfriend appearing out of nowhere nine years later.

  I asked how Rhea got into my room and Lander said she had a cousin on the hotel staff. He asked if we could keep it between us and not take anything further.

  Lander: This is a lie.

  Emma: Lander said that someone who worked on maintenance across various hotels had been arrested that morning for thefts from rooms. I remembered the woman I’d heard in the lobby at the start of the holiday, saying that she’d had money stolen. I think Paul said something about thefts from his hotel. I guess it was a much bigger problem than anyone had been letting on.

  Lander seemed to think everyone knew about the arrest, even though it was the first I’d heard of it. I suppose it’s no surprise the hotel was keeping it quiet.

  I didn’t get his point at first, but after the arrest, the cousin had gone back to Rhea, panicking that she’d be discovered. He was asking me to back away from any complaints about my phone in case it was traced back to Rhea’s cousin and, ultimately, Rhea.

  Aside from fishing, tourism is the only real industry on the island and if someone gets blacklisted, there’s nowhere to go.

  Lander: Emma told you this?

  Emma: I asked him why my phone. The screen was locked and nobody could get into it. He said it was only to inconvenience me. He saw Rhea with my phone and, when she told him what it was, he insisted it be put back.

  …

  There was a part of me relieved to hear it. The phone really had been taken and returned. I’d not imagined it.

  Lander: I… We… we were on the cliffs to say goodbye. That’s all.

  Emma: I told him that I hoped everything worked out with him, Rhea and his kids. I said I wanted him to be happy and he said the same to me.

  Rhea wouldn’t have been happy, but we hugged and it was another of those moments when it felt as if I was slipping through time. It was the way he held me, the position of his hands on my back and the curve of his shoulders. I think a hug is like a fingerprint sometimes. It wasn’t that I craved the past, it was that there was a comfort to it.

  We separated and then he said goodbye. I think we both knew we’d never see each other again after that. I watched him walk away and there was a closure that I never thought we’d have. If that’s the only good thing to come from the holiday, then I suppose it’s one thing. Perhaps I should remind myself once in a while that it wasn’t all bad.

  Lander: I don’t know why she’d say all this now. I know nothing about her phone.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  THE IMPORTANT SILENCES

  Emma: By the time I got back to the hotel, Mum had returned from the hospital. She was sitting on a lounger a little away from the pool, quite close to the walkthrough for the cottages. The sun had dipped below the trees on the furthest side of the pool and shadows were covering half the patio. The buffet was open again, so people were starting to head back inside.

  I didn’t know if Mum knew that the girls had been temporarily missing and certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell her.

  She was on her own, holding a book but staring over the top of it towards the sky. I went and perched next to her, but it took her a moment to notice I was there. When she turned to me, she seemed so… haunted.

  I can’t think of a better word.

  When you’re young, you think of your parents as invincible. You think they know everything, which is why you’re constantly throwing questions at them. Then there’s a strange crossover point where you start to realise that there are issues you understand much more than they do. You notice that they don’t know how to adjust something like a toaster, or that the clock on the microwave is always wrong. It’s odd little things and you start to wonder if you’re the grown-up now.

  I’ll never forget that moment on the lounger, because Mum looked so old and I felt so helpless. I wanted to hold her and be next to her. There’s an urge to say everything will be all right, even though we both knew it wouldn’t be.

  I started wondering if it would be better to lose a parent suddenly, or if this long, winding build-up is the way it’s supposed to be. Where you can sit and have conversations about nothing that are really about everything.

  We sat for a little while and then she spoke. It was so soft that I barely heard her over the noise from the pool. That quietest voice in the room again.

  She said: ‘How did you know where the girls would be?’

  I was a bit surprised Julius had told her they’d gone missing, but I suppose it would have been hard to keep from her, given the number of staff who’d been searching.

  I told her that I hadn’t known for certain and that I was only going off what I would have done at that age. Mum nodded but didn’t reply at first.

  When she did, she had already moved on. She said that the manager had told her she could stay on in the hotel if Dad was stuck on the island. I told her that she had commitments at home, with treatments and doctor visits. That she had to think of herself. She nodded along, but I don’t think she took it in. She said that Dad was almost certainly going to return to the UK for his operation anyway.

  I wanted to say that it wasn’t all about Dad – but I knew she wouldn’t want to hear it. She’s stubborn and she’s loyal… I don’t know if those are good things or bad. Perhaps they’re both.

  Mum and I hadn’t talked properly many times since I was released – but that felt like a moment.

  I asked if I was a disappointment to her and Dad. I suppose what Daniel said to me outside the cottage had stuck, even though I wanted to believe that it hadn’t.

  Sometimes, when you say something, you want an instant reply. If you tell someone you love them, you don’t want a pause and an ‘um…’ followed by the inevitable: ‘I love you, too.’ Sometimes those silences are more important than the words.

  Mum didn’t say anything for a little while.

  She sat and stared out towards the pool before she said: ‘Your father understood,’ which she quickly corrected to: ‘We both understood.’

  …

  I think I need another minute.

  Julius: The thing you have to understand about Emma is that she’s always felt like she needs to prove herself to Dad. It’s why, when she didn’t have that approval, she went so far the other way. She got involved in protests and started taking up causes she knew would annoy him. It’s all or nothing with her: if she couldn’t make herself the perfect child in the eyes of Dad, then she’d be the rebel instead.

  Emma: Mum told me that the crash wasn’t my fault and that she and Dad both believed that. The problem was that I don’t believe that myself. I knew I shouldn’t have got into the car after that second glass of wine – but I did it anyway. If you want the truth, I’d done it before. It’s not as if I ever downed a couple of bottles and then drove, but I was never bothered about the odd glass.

  Mum probably said two or three times ‘we don’t blame you’, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I was still chasing that anger from her because I’d taken away her only grandson. Being blamed isn’t the same as being disappointed. I could live with them blaming me for something I did wrong – but I didn’t want them to be disappointed with the person I’d become.

  Does that make sense?

  After a while, Mum said that Dad was far more disappointed that I never returned to t
he business. She said that, after I came out and was on probation, he wanted me close. He thought it would bring the family together if I went back to the business but, when I said ‘no’ to that, it was like I was saying ‘no’ to the family. She told me that he felt rejected…

  …

  I almost asked her about the fake driving licence at that moment. I wondered if she knew. It felt as if, perhaps for the first time ever, I could ask her whatever I wanted and get an honest reply.

  We were both vulnerable…

  I didn’t.

  I asked the wrong question instead. I asked if Dad knew anything about what happened to Alan. There was another pause, but it felt less purposeful than the previous one. More that she couldn’t believe I’d come out with it.

  She goes: ‘Why would you ask that…?’ and there was hurt in her voice this time. It was one of those things where the words were already out and it’s too late to take them back.

  I said a documentary was being filmed about Alan and that I’d met some of the crew on the island. It all came flowing out then. I said that I’d seen Scott and that I’d given an interview. She asked what I’d said and I told her that there was nothing bad. I didn’t know anything to say about Alan – and I couldn’t remember much from nine years ago anyway.

  She was quiet for a long time after that. It was one of those silences that leaves you wondering whether the other person is ever going to reply. You could sit there for hours and hours until someone finally cracks.