Chapter 9


O glorious summer! O rolling fields of purpled heather. O drifting sparks of new kindled desire, catching every heart afire. Blah, blah, blah.

It couldn't last.

The personalised ringtone warns me to expect trouble. 'Shit.'

Jamie's eyes spring open. 'Who—?'

I put a finger to my lips in warning before taking a deep breath and answering. 'Good morning, Alec.'

'You'd better have a bloody good excuse.' No wasting words on pleasantries, then.

I stretch and yawn. 'Nice hearing from you, too.'

Beside me the blankets rustle. Jamie flings out an arm to hoist the duvet over him, exposing my backside to an unseasonable early morning chill. He mouths, 'Is that—?'

I nod.

My poor eardrum. Alec's fury pounds the cell connection. 'Is that all you've got to say for yourself? Your mother—'

At that my pulse quickens and my hand tightens around the phone. 'Does she know?'

I've been expecting this call—from either Mum or Alec—for the last couple of weeks. All they've had from me is a few messages, a non-revealing pic or two. Nothing to give away my location or who I've been spending time with. I knew it wasn't going to hold them off for forever, and I knew I should call, but I just couldn't make myself.

I've been having too much fun.

'That you're in Broadchurch? Not yet, but she will when I tell her.'

'Is that necessary?'

'So you're not denying it?'

On the one hand, dammit; I've fallen for a classic trap. On the other, all he appears to know is that I'm in Broadchurch. The opening invective would have been far more colourful otherwise. It's hard not to be resentful. 'Did you actually know where I was, or did you just take a stab in the dark?'

'Your mate Rob's not very good at lying.'

I rub sleep out of my eye. 'Rob? What's he—'

'Ellie thought she'd try and reach you last night. When she couldn't get you, she tried Rob—thinking you'd be on the boat together.'

'Oh, yes?' I scratch my chin. 'What did he say?'

I never asked Rob or Jenna to lie for me; I just never thought Mum would call them.

They've been living a dream, spending several months sailing, going wherever whim and wind takes them. I've known both Rob and Jenna since school; they know Mum, and they know about Dad, about my family connection to Broadchurch. They offered to sail me here, and (all going to plan) collect me in August. They knew I had been vague about my intentions with my family, but we never discussed arranging a cover story.

As far as Mum knew, I was sailing with them. My last great hurrah before attempting to join the real world of full-time employment. Mum was unimpressed, but since I'd saved up for it working part-time, plus the fact I am more than old enough to make these decisions for myself, there was little she could do except make a mealy-mouthed face and tell me not to take any unnecessary risks.

At the time, Alec was less restrained. 'You're fucking taking the piss, no?'

Alec has a little problem containing his opinion.

'They had a right old chat, did Rob and your mum. Rob told Ellie you were out for the evening but you'd left your phone behind—and not to worry, he'd get you to call in the morning.'

'Seems fair enough,' I say.

Good old Rob. I owe him a beer for the effort.

'You without your phone?' Alec's sneer is audible. 'When your mum was out of the room, I called him back to get a real answer. He was surprisingly more forthcoming.'

'What did you threaten him with?' I ask with genuine interest. Alec's been terrorising my friends for years. They love him for it.

The dig about me and my phone is unfair though. It would probably amuse Alec to know Rob was sort of right. I'd let my phone battery drain down to nothing (by accident) last night, and while I'd had presence of mind to set it on recharge, I hadn't checked it for any messages or alerts.

And then I got distracted.

Jamie chooses this moment to run the tip of his finger down my chest. He smirks at my quiver. I make a face and roll away. Alec and I get on, but there are things I know he definitely does not want to hear about in soft porn detail.

'Look, Alec, Rob and Jenna put me down in Broadchurch two weeks ago. I'm not here to cause any trouble. Just learning the lay of the land, seeing the sights, catching up with Lucy.'

When you grow up in a household where honesty is not just the gold standard, it's the only the standard, you're smart to learn its elastic qualities—otherwise your social life is sunk. It's a matter of sanity and survival.

'If that were so, Fred, you could have been in and out in two days—not a fortnight.'

'Fine. I'm here for my own reasons. None of which I have to tell you—but, please, Alec. Let me tell Mum.'

'You've got until the end of the day.'

Fair enough. I'll have a few pints at the pub tonight and give her a call then. Alec's nearly disconnected the call before I remember. 'Hey! Mum's OK, isn't she? There's nothing to worry a—'

'Aye, she's fine.' It's not unusual for Alec to be terse, but his abruptness takes me back. Had there been a small catch in his voice? Once we've finished, my hands bring the side of the phone to my mouth where it taps out my concern.

'Was that your step-dad?'

I turn to Jamie. 'I told you. They never married.'

'Yeah, but—'

'He kind of is, I suppose—it's hard to explain.'

For a time, in my earliest memories, Alec was not there. Then he was. I didn't question it. I knew he wasn't my father, so I never called him Dad, although he certainly took the place of a father.

'Wasn't it weird? Your mum getting together with him?'

I study the ceiling, rolling onto my back. 'Weird? No, not really.'

'My parents thought it was strange.'

'Did they?'

On the subject of family, Jamie and I have stayed coy. Since meeting up in the pub, we've spent most sleeping hours together. If the hostel staff know what's going on, they're professional enough to be discreet. Jamie's job keeps him occupied during the day, and when we meet up at night it's usually to go to a pub, often in a neighbouring town. Last weekend we went to Chesil Beach. I don't want it to be this way, but we both breathe easier outside of Broadchurch. We both know we'll have to talk about it at some point. Although, in the back of my mind, there's that tiny voice telling me it's a summer fling so why bother.

'Mum and Alec never discuss Broadchurch or anyone in it.'

That Mum struck up a relationship with someone wasn't weird to me. That it happened to be her old boss also meant nothing to me. But when I think about them, maybe, I can see where Jamie's parents' surprise comes from.

'You can't blame my parents.' Jamie prickles when he is defensive. 'They talk about Danny a lot. It's inevitable your mum would come up.'

My hands lace under my skull. 'Mum doesn't mention Danny, but I'm certain she thinks about him.'

I explain my theory about my mother's bouts of sickness. 'I think she thought about Danny so much it made her ill.'

When I glance at Jamie, he's biting his lip—a fetching habit of his. 'Because of the vomiting?' he asks.

'Five years ago she got cancer.'

I want it to sound stark.

'But she's—'

'Yeah, she's all right now. They caught it early. But it still makes me think. I find myself wondering if things had gone differently, if she hadn't had so much stress, maybe the cancer wouldn't have developed.'

Jamie's face softens. 'I didn't know—I don't think anyone did.'

Only Lucy would have known in Broadchurch. She came to stay after Mum had an operation and a short course of follow-up treatment. Mum's colleagues knew what was going on, but she had been particular about only close friends knowing, and her treatment never had visible side effects. The operation had been successful and the follow-ups precautionary.

'The famous Broadchurch jungle drums missed that announcement.' I shrug. 'Would they have cared?'

Jamie looks thoughtful. 'People still talk about them—your parents.'

'Talking isn't caring.' Of course they still talk about my parents. I doubt the tenor of the conversation has changed much in twenty-five years.

'People didn't know what to make of your mum hooking up with the detective who arrested her husband—I know that much.'

'I don't know what to make of them. Sometimes I think they're just what the other needs, but then they bicker like you'd never believe. Watching them fight is like watching a spectacular electrical storm unleashing itself in reverse your living room. Mum can lash out with the most funny, ridiculous insults—usually after Alec's lost his temper and thunderclapped around the flat in his slippers and dressing gown. Ten minutes later they're discussing tea and scones and sunshine like the storm never happened.'

Jamie laughs. 'That could be anyone's parents.'

Make no mistake. These are take no prisoner fights. Nothing's for play. But nothing's held onto. I'm glad anger is one thing Alec and my mother can both let go. It's other emotions they cling to more tightly.

'They're as bad as each other. They're just both so—I don't know—wounded. Like they try to hide it but they've been damned to eternal suffering.'

Too late I realise the ridiculousness of romanticising my mother and step-father's scarred emotions to the son of a man and woman who had their child brutally murdered.

'It's nothing like what your family's gone through …' I say quickly.

Jamie hauls himself up, grabbing his jeans from the floor. I check the time on my phone. Six in the morning.

'See, that's what people like to hear,' he says. 'Your mum's supposed to suffer. They still hold her responsible, you know.'

I scramble up. 'How exactly? What exactly did she do? As far as I can see it, she tried to do right by everyone. Danny's death all but destroyed everything for her.'

Jamie disappears into his T-shirt as he yanks it over his head. 'I don't know your mum—or your dad. Or Hardy. But you can understand my mum. She thinks it's impossible your mother didn't know something. To her that's pretty much unforgivable.'

My hands grip the sheets and I bite back an urge to fight on my mother's behalf. She does not deserve this cruelty. She doesn't.

With my new found knowledge of the murder and what happened after, Jamie's comment lances the heart of the matter. His mum and mine had once been friends. When Dad throttled Danny, he choked the life out of their friendship too.

And like that, the missing piece of the puzzle drops into place. It's not the town stopping Mum from returning; it's Beth Latimer.

'Yeah, well, if it's suffering this town likes, it should be delighted.' I can't help myself lashing out. 'God knows Mum's not getting any peace any time soon.'

Jamie looks at me. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm surprised you don't know.'

'Know what?' He stares at me.

'My father's got a parole hearing next month. He's had two already, and he was close to getting it last time. Chances are he'll be out before summer's over. Don't they tell you this? I thought the victim's family got special notification.'

From the look on his face, I can tell my news has shocked Jamie. He's shaking his head.

'Do you think your parents just haven't told you?'

He shakes his head again. 'No. We're a family in this.'