Chapter 25
I rush out of the hospital ward, frantically messaging Bridget that I’m on my way.
I get a text back almost immediately that she’s home – Alex not only stood her up but he also isn’t answering her texts.
I want to be sorry, but I’m not. It’s a small mercy that that budding romance may have been nipped in the bud.
But as I’m walking, texting, and reading, I’m not looking where I’m going. I run headlong into something – someone – tall and substantial.
‘Oh, sorry!’ I blurt out.
‘Juno?’
It’s Will.
Oh God.
He looks devastatingly handsome in his white coat accessorised with a stethoscope around his neck. His dark hair is mussed, his expression a little startled from our impact.
‘Two stars colliding,’ he says.
‘Yes,’ I say, flustered, ‘something like that.’
‘What are you doing here – and in such a hurry?’
‘Cliff had an accident,’ I say.
‘An accident?’ He frowns. I can almost read his thoughts. The old man should be in a home.
‘Actually, your colleague said it could have been blunt force trauma. I found him.’
Will steps back, shaking his head. ‘Are you serious? What happened?’
‘Well, if your shift is just starting, you can ask him yourself. But actually, I’m in a bit of a rush. Connor…’
‘Let me guess. He’s missing again.’
I nod apologetically. ‘I learned some things,’ I say. ‘About his friend Med. His real name is Ahmed. He’s Syrian and his uncle paid to have him and his sister brought here. Their parents are dead. But I think they were being trafficked. Med escaped and he’s in danger.’
‘Whoa, Juno.’ He pulls me to the side of the busy thoroughfare. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
‘There’s no time,’ I say. ‘I need to get back.’
‘Then I’ll go with you,’ he says. ‘I’m in the staff car park, but I’ll walk you out and follow behind.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
He goes over to the reception desk and has a word with the woman. ‘Page Dr Warren,’ he says. ‘Something’s come up – ask him to take over for me.’
I feel a little calmer – or, more accurately, the jittery nerves I feel aren’t just due to Cliff’s condition and Connor’s whereabouts – as Will and I walk together to the car park.
‘I think someone might have attacked Cliff on his boat,’ I say. ‘That would explain the injury.’
‘Or he had a fall and hit his head,’ Will counters. ‘He is old.’
‘No.’ I tap my card on the machine to end my parking session. ‘You’re wrong. I mean, not that he’s old, but that he’s doolally. I know you think he needs looking after, but some people just don’t want that. I suppose if it comes to it, I could hire someone to look after him at home.’
‘On his boat?’
‘Well, he’s in the harbour quite a bit. Especially now that Elspeth’s around so much.’
‘Ah,’ Will says. ‘Is that so?’
‘Yes. I think… she likes looking after him. And vice versa.’
He walks me to my car, silent for a long moment. ‘If I do take your word for it, where does that leave us?’
‘With a criminal on the loose.’
‘So it seems.’ His tone is hard, his face stony. And suddenly, it’s like I can read his thoughts.
‘Surely you don’t think it could be—’
I know there’s bad blood between them, but it just can’t be true.
‘No,’ he says. ‘I don’t. For one thing, he’s not that clever.’
‘It doesn’t take a lot of intelligence to knock someone over the head.’
‘True.’
We reach my car. I pause before getting inside. ‘For the record,’ I say, ‘I don’t want it to be him.’
‘I know.’ Will stares into the car window. ‘You two hit it off. I get that. And who knows – you could be right about him. I suppose he and I just have too much baggage for me to trust him now. And also…’
‘What?’
‘I suppose I’m a little jealous.’
‘Oh.’ My face flares and I have a ridiculous urge to smile. But now is not the time or place to explore what feelings I’m developing for this man.
‘I’ll see you at the entrance.’ With that, he turns and walks away.
Will follows me in his car – a swish silver Mercedes – out of town and along the narrow country roads.
Knowing he’s there lends me a whole new perspective on this place.
Things are fragile right now, dangerously so, but for the first time in a while, I don’t feel quite so separate from my own psyche. I don’t feel quite so alone.
When we reach the inn, we both park at the front and get out. Being here gives me a new sense of urgency. ‘The Porthcurno’s down in the cove,’ I say. ‘But I’m going to pop inside first and see if Connor’s back yet.’
‘Fine. I’ll meet you down at the boat?’
‘Sure.’
I experience the familiar creeping chill as I enter the inn. Bridget is in the kitchen scrolling on her phone. I’d forgotten about her being upset earlier, but her face gives away that she’s still feeling hard done by.
‘Is Connor back?’ I say.
‘No.’ She doesn’t look up. ‘Haven’t seen him. Or bloody Alex.’
‘Language,’ I say.
She eyes me stormily. ‘Whatever. We were supposed to go out but he hasn’t shown up or answered any of my texts.’
‘Did you try calling him?’
‘Obviously.’
‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but right now, I have to find Connor.’
‘He said he had to go out for a few hours, and to tell you that he wouldn’t be back for supper. Something about the tides – to be honest, I wasn’t really paying attention.’
‘Great,’ I say through my teeth. ‘I’d better go out and find him.’
Bridget gives me a look that’s oddly contrite. ‘He’s not in danger, is he?’
‘I don’t know. But yes, it’s possible.’
She nods, all trace of stroppiness gone. Which only increases my thinly-veiled sense of panic. The tide table in Connor’s room… not being home for supper… Med’s sister. Would Connor and his friend really be so reckless?
Of course they would.
‘OK, Mum,’ Bridget says. ‘I’ll be here if you need me.’
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I appreciate that.’
* * *
I leave the inn and go out to the cliff path, praying that my suspicions are wrong.
I’m hoping to see Will – he’ll have found Connor and together, they’ll have checked the boat and found nothing amiss.
Med was just an imaginary friend, and this whole summer is just a strange time we need to get through.
But I don’t see Will or Connor. It’s nearly sunset and the cove is in shadow as I reach the path that wends downward to the dock.
Just beyond the breakwater, a small, motorised dinghy is headed out to sea.
And as I make my way down the steep path, I do see Will – he’s waving his arms at me in some kind of warning.
‘What is it?’ I say, breathless when I reach the bottom of the path.
‘Did you see that dinghy?’ he says. ‘I think Connor and Med are on it.’
‘On a dinghy? Who with?’
‘I’m pretty sure they’re with Alex Furze.’
‘Alex the ice-cream boy? That’s OK then, isn’t it? He’s Bridget’s “friend”.’ I make air quotes. ‘In fact, they had plans for tonight and he stood her up.’
‘Maybe that’s for the best,’ Will says.
‘But doesn’t he also work on the boat with… Ollie?’ I choke on the name, my gorge rising. Is Alex friend or foe – and, if the latter, would Connor and Med be able to spot his true colours? Is this simply a sunset cruise with an older boy, or a dangerous disaster in the making?
‘His father used to own the caravan park,’ Will says. ‘But now he’s serving time for drug trafficking. Rumour has it that he has connections with organised crime on the continent. I’m not saying the son’s involved. But you know what they say…’
A wave of nausea sweeps through me. ‘The apple never falls far from the tree?’
He nods gravely. ‘Bingo.’
I turn away, unable to look at him. While it seems that Bridget has inherited my penchant for a rogue, I’d hoped that Connor might prove to be a better judge of character.
I was wrong, and now the danger is real.
As the dinghy moves further away, I know I have to pull myself together and do something. Briefly, I outline my suspicions to Will. The dread on his face mirrors my own.
‘We can notify the coastguard,’ he says. ‘I’m sure they’ll send help. But it may take some time.’
‘We don’t have time,’ I say. ‘By then they could be—’
Swallowing my fears, I beckon Will to follow me over to Cliff’s boat – the only one left in the harbour. The tide is coming in swiftly; the little craft bobs up and down on the rising waves.
‘I’m sorry to ask,’ I say, ‘but do you know how to drive this thing?’
Will’s face goes completely pale. ‘Juno… I can’t. After what happened to Noah, I haven’t been out in a boat. I can’t stand the sea.’
‘OK… I get it.’ My eyes fill with tears. For what Will’s suffered, and the possibility that something just as bad or worse could happen to my son.
‘Hey,’ he says, seeing my distress. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right.’
He pulls the rope towards him; the boat bangs against the tyres affixed to the dock. I see him take a deep breath, and then he jumps aboard.
‘No, Will,’ I say. ‘You don’t have to. I’ll… think of something else. I mean, I can probably figure out how to drive it myself—’
‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘I want to help. I need to do this. Not just for you, but because if there’s another tragedy, I couldn’t live with myself.’
‘Understood,’ I say. ‘And… thanks.’
Wordlessly, he holds out his hand and helps me aboard.
He goes to the wheelhouse and starts the engine.
As it’s warming up, he radios the coastguard.
The delay is maddening; the dinghy is nearly out of sight.
I wander about the deck and find Cliff’s cup of tea.
It’s stone cold and most of it has splashed out of the mug.
I take the dregs and pour it over the side of the boat.
Finally, Will gives me the signal to unmoor; I release the ropes, and we set off.