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In the flamingo light of dawn, the sea sucks tangerine crescents from the sand.
This early in the morning, Penleith Beach is entirely unspoilt. No tourists, no music, just the calls of gulls and guillemots as they wheel above the water.
To the south, the black rock of Mortis Point thrusts deep into the sea. Atop it, Lucy sees no evidence of her old home; the blackened wreckage has been entirely demolished and removed. She won’t mourn it, won’t allow herself to become maudlin over what was lost. Shecansee the bright yellow excavators that will continue their work in a few hours, preparing the foundations of their new home.
Crazy to think they could live up there again. And yet it’s exactly what they plan to do.
Lucy has Abraham Rose to thank for that; one more thing on a long list. When she’d explained, back on land, that she’d torched the house to save Fin, he’d scowled at her and shook his head.
‘Youdidn’t burn it down, Lucy. I never want to hear you say that again. In fact, I don’t want you eventalkingaboutthe fire, to anyone. It’s too traumatic and you simply can’t remember. That animal you euthanized started the blaze. You just wait a few weeks – I guarantee that’s what the investigation will conclude. Certainly to the satisfaction of your insurance company. Do you understand me?’
She’d understood his look, certainly. A few weeks later, his words proved accurate.
Initially, the prospect of rebuilding their lives in Skentel had seemed unthinkable. How could she even countenance it after everything that had happened? Better to take Daniel and Fin and go somewhere far away.
But that would have handed Lucian Terrell a small victory, and there’s no way in the world she could have allowed that. She’ll live each day in defiance.
Everything he tried to destroy, Lucy will build back up. She’ll pour so much love into Daniel and Fin that they’ll glow like lanterns. She’ll help her boy become the greatest, happiest and kindest human he can be. She’ll rehabilitate her husband, too, from the horrors he experienced. Lucy knows the child growing in her belly, which so far remains her secret, will help.
The agony of Billie’s passing won’t fade, but she’ll use that pain for good works. She’ll strengthen the girl’s legacy. And she won’t stop.
Fortunately, she has an entire tribe – people whose lives Billie touched – who’ve vowed to help.
She talks of her daughter every day, to anyone prepared to listen, however stunning the pain. She tells stories about Billie to strangers and to those who knew the girl well. She writes down every anecdote, every tiny memory. She’ll ensure the girl remains a blazing sun, radiating heat, for many decades to come. And she’ll ensure Fin feels thepresence of his older sister throughout his childhood and beyond.
She watches her son now, as he walks barefoot into the water. There’s hardly any surf, just a soft lapping of the sea. Fin’s wearing black shorts, a white shirt, his favourite velvet bow tie. He chose the outfit himself. At his insistence, the bow tie is extra-specially secure.
When he’s up to his knees in water, he unscrews the urn he’s been hugging and tilts it. Billie slides out as ash.
It’s hard to watch. Lucy feels her chest quivering, her legs and her fingertips, too. Those soft grey grains – all that remains physically of her daughter – darken as they sink. Gradually, the ocean draws Billie from the shore. Fin upends the urn, shakes out the last ash. Then he reseals the lid.
Lucy hears him talking, but she doesn’t catch the words. It’s a private conversation between brother and sister. She wonders if Billie is listening.
At her side, Daniel pulls her close. She looks up, finds his eyes, wraps her arm around his waist. Fin wades from the water. He passes Daniel the empty urn and takes Lucy’s hand. Already, father and son are stronger than they were. By the time she’s finished, they’ll be bulletproof.
They watch the sea for a while, all three of them, as Billie is carried away. Lucy closes her eyes, sending out a thought to follow Fin’s words. Once she’s done, she turns her family around.
Along the backshore, spread out across the dunes, is what seems like every resident of Skentel and its neighbouring communities all along this stretch of coast. She seeks out Jake Farrell, standing with his cane. The debt she owes him can never be repaid, but it’s something else towork on. Because every day, in Billie’s memory, she’ll do good works.
Accompanying Jake are Noemie and Bee. Lucy sees Gordon and Jane Watson from the pharmacy, Wayland Rawlings from the hobby shop, Craig Clements and Alec Paul and Donahue O’Hare from the lifeboat station. Luke Creese has attended from St Peter’s. Bill Shetland the harbour master stands beside Sean Rowland, the coastguard station officer. And then there’s Ed, and all Billie’s friends. Too many to name. Almost too many to count.
An entire tribe.
The only face she doesn’t find belongs to Abraham Rose. The crag-faced detective died in the spring, taking his own life in advance of the cancer he believed was eating him. According to the note he left, he’d been too frightened to seek treatment or even confirm a diagnosis. The post-mortem found a serious but treatable lung condition – Abraham Rose was cancer-free.
Lucy went to the funeral. In the months since, she’s learned as much about the man as she can. She’s already pledged to make one person eternal. She’s pretty sure she can manage two.
A whole life of good works awaits. At times the pain will be unbearable. But there’s beauty in the world, a surfeit of it. Lucy can’t wait to get started.