Page 116

2
Lucy turns her head, searching sea and sky. She sees no boats, no helicopters, no signs of humanity. Her eyes pass over Lucian’s yacht, studying it from bow to stern. There’s nothing there to help her, nothing to offer any advantage.
‘Tell me,’ she says. ‘Before we do this. Tell me how Billie died. You showed me some of it, but not all. If this ends here – today – at least tell me that.’
Lucian tilts his head, as if he’s contemplating an artwork that resists all interpretation. ‘Even now, at the end, yousurprise me,’ he says, a tear spilling down his cheek. ‘Yougenuinelywant to know.’
She doesn’t, not at all. But she’ll listen. If it keeps Fin and Bee alive a few minutes longer, she’ll listen to anything.
The boats continue to drift. The more she keeps Lucian talking, the smaller her chance of intervening. But right now, shehasno ability to intervene. ‘Please,’ she says again. ‘Please, Lucian, just tell me. I’m her mum. I deserve to know.’
‘OK,’ he replies. ‘If that’s what you want. But I warn you: it’ll be a difficult thing to hear.’
No way, of course, that I can tell you the truth. I doubt you’d find any comfort in it, but I simply can’t take the risk. In this tragedy written for your benefit, no sanctuary can be given for hope. Only through suffering are we purified. Only through our complete undoing do we stand any chance of being saved.
You see, Billie was never meant to go into the water. Not that day, at least. The point of last Friday’s tableau was to destroy just one facet of your life: any remaining trust you had in Daniel Locke.
Given the choice between saving his son or the lizard you spilled with his predecessor, it was hardly rocket science whom he’d pick. Once you saw the evidence, I knew you’d never forgive him. That’s all I needed from Daniel: your daughter’s name. I was never going to carry out my threat. If I’m honest, it was Daniel I intended to put over the side that day, the very moment he gave me his answer.
But how useless he was. How utterly ineffectual. Even when I threatened to drown them both, he just stood there gaping, as if a light bulb had flicked off in his brain.
Billie should have beenhere, Lucy. With us right now. The real choice – between her life and Fin’s – was meant to be yours: a decision that would lead to your undoing, and ultimately bring about your salvation.
Now, instead, you get to pick between your son and your friend. A far less punishing choice. And it’s all your daughter’s fault.
I don’t know what kind of cosmic guilt you instilled in that girl, or what kind of inferiority complex she was hiding. But what happened on that boat last Friday was an abomination. Ithappened fast, too, like a finger-snap. And afterwards there was nothing anyone could do about it.
You see, it angered me that Daniel wouldn’t choose. I’d gone to all that effort and he was refusing to play his part. His only task was to say Billie’s name, but he couldn’t even get that right. So I decided to apply some pressure. I told him his time was up, that I’d run out of patience. Then I made straight for those two kids as if I was about to drown them both. Daniel was screaming for me to stop, but STILL he wouldn’t say your daughter’s name, and then the craziest thing of all happened, because, without any warning, just as I was closing in on the pair of them, Billie shoved her own ballast overboard.
BATSHIT crazy.
I mean, I just stopped dead and watched. There was Billie’s line, paying out faster and faster, and there she was, balanced on the edge of the swim step. She looked at her little brother and whispered something to him, and then she looked at Daniel and you know what she said? Her last words? ‘Tell Mum I love her.’
And then splash. Down she went. Bubbles, ripples, nothing.
I’ve thought about it a lot since. If you want the truth, it scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t sleep at all Friday night. Barely got much sleep Saturday. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face.
You know what I think? Now that I’ve had a chance to process it? I think Billie just gave up. She saw her cards, all laid out, and decided not to hang around. Really, it’s the only explanation.
Of course, it altered the plan. But there were a few upsides. I hadn’t intended for Billie to go in the water, so her legs weren’t tightly bound. I suspect that’s why the knots came loose and she washed up a few days later, giving the police their corpse.
But you don’t need to know any of this, Lucy. What you need tothinkis that your husband made a devil’s pact, and he chose his son over your daughter, and that the man you trusted over all others turned out to be a snake.
FIFTY-TWO
1
Lucian holds out his hand, palm up. ‘What happened to the rain? It started promisingly enough. No wind, either. Even the sea’s behaving itself – just this mill-pond calm.’
He pauses, shakes his head. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing at all redemptive in what happened on theLazy Susan. Daniel didn’t need asking twice. I’d barely asked the question before he was shouting Billie’s name. Anything to save his own son.’
TheCetusrocks in the water. Lucian sways back and forth. His foot scrapes the stack of weightlifting plates, nudging them closer to the edge. His eyes flick to them in an instant, then flick back to her.
Good.
Because that means he hasn’t interrogated the boat’s motion beneath his feet; hasn’t paid attention to the slap of water against the hull; hasn’t seen what Lucy’s been waiting for: the briefest flash of movement from the stern.
2