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‘Billie,’ she murmurs, knowing it’s a girl, trying to work out how she feels about this unplanned upheaval of her future.
‘There’s a young man asking for you,’ the Jamaican nurse tells her. ‘Says his name’s Lucian, handsome as all Creation. Is he this pretty little gift’s father?’
Lucy shakes her head. Lucian’s just her ride home.
In truth, she has no idea of Billie’s provenance. Her first semester at the Slade School of Art was far wilder than she ever intended. Skipping back along the timeline, she can count at least seven candidate fathers. All that effort to get there, and then her oldest demon raised its head, culminating in this strange, unworldly creature at her breast.
Lucy doesn’t need a therapist to explain her promiscuity. Her first six years of childhood were as difficult as Daniel’s or Nick’s. Lucy’s parents – both substanceabusers – offered her zero affection or interest. By the time social services removed her, she was surviving on scraps scavenged from takeout trays. Although her nightmare ended when her great-aunt won custody, it still left scars.
Never, in the years following her deliverance, could she refuse anyone prepared to show her warmth. As she moved into her teenage years, the consequences were entirely predictable.
Even Lucian, handsome as all Creation, had wanted to be more than just a ride home. When their friendship soured, Lucy decided to escape London for good. Fleeing with Billie to the Continent, she found stability, for a few years, at a commune in Spain’s Tabernas Desert.
But the relationship Lucy embarked on in the badlands brought consequences even more disastrous. Relocating to Portugal, another upheaval, she hit her darkest period. Finally, terrified of how her nomadic lifestyle was affecting Billie, she returned to Skentel. Remarkable, really, that through it all the girl still thrived.
And how Billiehasthrived, more so with each passing year. Lucy hasn’t always agreed with her choices, but she’s always admired her motivation. Seldom has Billie turned down a fight she’s believed worth having – particularly on issues of animal welfare or conservation. A steady drift towards direct action led to her recent sign-up with Sea Shepherd.
Lucy clenches her teeth. She tries to imagine her daughter now – alive and shivering in a coastguard helicopter.
And Fin.
When she thinks of her boy – when she recalls his bare legs swinging beneath the breakfast table andAvengersglasses hanging askew from his nose – she moans like ananimal impaled. Because even reliefthistransformative can’t expunge completely the horror of recent hours.
If the helicopter rescued all three members of her family, they must surely have still been together. Which means the figure on the winch must have been Daniel. Doubtless he’d have sent Billie and Fin up first.
Lucy’s not quite ready to think about her husband yet. Instead she turns her mind to Jake – this man she once loved, and who clearly loves her still. Back when they were together, she couldn’t content herself with a hero. And now here he is, risking himself for her, for her children and the man she chose instead.
She recalls her earlier betrayal. How, in a trade for her family, she’d willingly sacrifice him. She’s shamed even more by that thought now – repulsed by it – even though it’s still true.
While she doesn’t believe in God, she does believe in equilibrium, in a universe that balances good with bad. And suddenly she’s terrified shehassacrificed Jake. Has consigned him to some future catastrophe.
She presses her fingers to his cheeks. Leaning forwards, she kisses him, hard and deep. Tries to push some of her lifeforce into him and counter her earlier treachery.
On his lips she tastes the sea and a place in the past almost tangible.
Jake’s grey eyes flare. For a moment he relaxes into her. She senses his sadness, then; his desolation. It’s a door left open, an unhealed wound. Another beat and he’s pulling away, breathing deep, searching her face for answers. ‘Lucy,’ he begins.
She shakes her head, realizing her mistake. How naive – to shove against the universe and not expect a response.Chastened, Lucy kisses his cheek. Jake recognizes the change. His eyes register the tiniest flicker of pain.
‘We’ve got to get back,’ she says, as salt spray bursts over them.
‘Can you stand?’
‘I think.’
‘You’re still attached?’
Lucy gives her leash a tug, nods. Words are hard, now. Emotion plugs her throat. Beyond the bow, another huge wave is building. She looks up at Jake, sees his safety line hanging loose from his waist, thinks again of that devil-deal she struck and her awkward attempt to revoke it.
Lucy grabs his carabiner, locks him down. ‘Careful,’ she tells him. ‘On the way back in. We aren’t safe yet.’
The wave hits.Huntsman’s Daughterbarrels out of it, buoyant as a cork. The air fills with confetti-like shrapnel. Incredible, that in the depths of this maelstrom she can suddenly find beauty.
Overhead, the last light is dying. No chance they’ll make it back before full dark. Already, the easternmost clouds have turned to soot.
But Billie and Fin are alive, Lucy thinks, even though she knows, without doubt, that this is far from the end.
Daniel’s alive.