Chapter 84
Tug had reached the end of the pontoon when Tara caught up with him and grabbed his hand. ‘I know what you’re planning and it’s not a good idea,’ she said.
Behind them, probably a result of their sprint along it, the floating wooden platform was rocking from side to side. An alarmed squeal told Tug that Cheryl, at least, was finding it hard to stay upright. He raised his hand to shake Tara’s off.
‘What am I planning?’ he asked, unnecessarily. He knew exactly what he was going to do.
She clung on. ‘You’re going to clock him one, and I don’t blame you. I’d do it myself, but frankly, I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my life before and we have a child to think about.’
She was wrong. He wasn’t going to clock him one. He was going to throttle the bastard right here on the foreshore. Tug took a deep breath.
She was right too. He looked over at where the others, all safely on shore now, had gathered around Holly and her son. The kid had leapt onto his mother, legs around her waist, arms clinging to her like a baby monkey. She’d buried her face into his neck.
‘How did he do it?’ Tara was still holding his hand. ‘Could someone have spotted him in the water and picked him up?’
No, that, Tug would put money on, was impossible.
‘He must have had a boat following us.’ Tug was thinking out loud.
‘One without lights, staying far enough back that we wouldn’t hear the engine.
Probably that RIB. Maybe a transmitter on his life jacket that made it easier to find him in the dark.
Doesn’t really matter how, though, does it? Question is, why.’
‘This is really weird, Tug,’ Tara said. ‘We need to be very careful.’
She was still right. He gave her a quick nod, turned round to share what he hoped was an encouraging smile with the others and set off again. At a measured pace this time. Still holding her hand.
‘Welcome to St Helen’s,’ the woman who’d been waiting for them called as they approached. ‘And nice to see you all again. I’m Mr Quick’s housekeeper. He’s been looking forward to your visit.’
As Tug stepped off the pontoon he glanced into the RIB. A ten-seater, twin engines. It would get them all back to St Mary’s in no time.
The realisation hit him like a blow to the stomach, one that took every breath he had. A stolen RIB? Oh, Jesus fucking wept. Was that what this was all about?
‘Tug?’ Tara was looking at him strangely and he realised the others had formed a single file behind him.
They were waiting for him to lead them, but for the moment he couldn’t move.
The gorgeous blonde nurse, the skinny brown girl, the plump one.
Oh Christ, how stupid had he been? But it had all been so long ago.
‘Tara,’ he said. ‘Did you go to a music festival in Newton Ferrers? Thirty years ago? Bad storm came in on the last day.’
Tara’s eyes opened wide with horror, telling him everything he needed to know.
And it was still no excuse. No fucking excuse. He let go of Tara’s hand. Striding ahead, he walked right up to Thomas and looked him straight in the face. ‘Four women and a kid,’ he said in a low voice. ‘You must be very fucking proud of yourself.’
Thomas stiffened, as though bracing himself for a blow. Then he stepped back, out of range of Tug’s fist. Smart guy.
‘Follow me,’ he said. It was not an invitation.
Tug took a quick look back. The others were all pale but holding it together. The woman, Quick’s housekeeper, waited at the rear like a guard, making sure none of them went astray, and he wondered if she’d been the driver of the RIB the previous night.
Thomas led them across a narrow stretch of marram-grass-strewn beach, over the dunes and then through gardens in which an attempt at landscaping had largely failed; the outlook was too exposed.
With every step they could see more of a huge, glass-fronted house.
Built of cedar and glass panels, it was three storeys high.
Most of the upper two floors had been used to create a massive living space.
Internal lights revealed ceiling beams, lounge furniture and colourful works of modern art.
Tug counted three balconies, a terrace, an outdoor jacuzzi.
‘Bit like your place,’ he said to Tara, and knew he was using a weak joke to hide how nervous he was.
She gave a low, dismissive laugh. ‘I haven’t got round to the landing pad yet.’
Tug followed her gaze to where an AgustaWestland, gleaming white, sat in a circle of concrete about fifty metres from the house.
From memory, he thought it was a five-seater, not big enough to get them all back to the mainland.
Not that he was getting in a chopper that had anything to do with Logan Quick.
Thomas, staying always a fraction too far ahead to allow for conversation, led them round the side of the house and inside.
‘It’s an awesome place,’ Charlie whispered, when they’d all crossed the threshold, and the housekeeper had closed the door behind them. ‘I’m glad you’re here, though, Mum.’
He walked as though glued to his mother, one arm wrapped around her waist; Holly didn’t look as though she was ever letting go of her son again.
They were in a vast, white space of marble floors, white walls and a sweeping wooden staircase.
Without stopping, Thomas led them further into the house, opening the door to a sitting room in more shades of neutrals: charcoal sofas, rugs patterned in a dozen or more shades of pale grey and ash wood furniture.
Tall windows overlooked the ocean. Thomas didn’t enter, instead gesturing to Tug and the others to go in.
We’ve come this far, Tug thought. And it’s only a room.
In the centre of the space, the focus of several armchairs and sofas, a circular wine cabinet had been cut into the marble floor and topped with reinforced glass. It was possible to stand on top of wine that Tug knew would be worth more than he’d ever earned in his life.
‘Please sit down.’ The housekeeper, like Thomas, was hovering close to the doorway. Tug was pleased that no one obeyed her. Instead, they formed a group in the centre of the room, almost a defensive circle, with Charlie and Holly in the middle. Tug fixed his eyes on Thomas.
‘Are you Logan Quick?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said a familiar voice from behind them. ‘I am.’
They turned, to see that their former shipmate, Craig Lewis, had entered through another door.