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‘Spooky shit,’ Tommo mutters.
Lucy can’t watch any longer. Instead, she studies her guests. She sees awe, curiosity, unease. And, by the kitchen door, she sees Daniel.
His eyes are narrowed, his mouth a tight line. She recognizes that look from the photo of them on PenleithBeach – everyone laughing except her husband, staring out to sea. Before she can catch his eye, he retreats inside.
Lucy’s chill deepens. She untangles herself from Billie and heads to the French windows. All the while she feels that enormous blood-red orb hanging overhead. She doesn’t believe in fairies or demons, in folk tales or religion, but she can’t shift the feeling that the eclipse is a portent; a sign of bad things heading her way.
At the cocktail cabinet in the living room, she chugs down a glass of soda water. From another part of the house, she hears raised voices. She goes to the living-room door, steps into the hall.
The front door is ajar. The voices are coming from outside. One of them is Daniel’s. He’s not shouting, but the emotion in his voice is clear – beyond mere anger; this is cold rage. Lucy walks to the door.
On the front drive, Daniel is breathing through his teeth. Blood shines on his knuckles. Nick stands a few feet away, the front of his shirt torn, a bruise swelling beneath his eye.
‘Daniel?’ Lucy asks, emerging from the house. ‘What’s going on?’
He turns on her, teeth bared. For a moment she barely recognizes him. ‘You know what I just found out?’
She steps back, shaken. ‘Whatever you’re angry about, it’s Billie’s—’
‘Tell her,’ Daniel snarls, wheeling towards Nick. ‘Tell her what you just told me.’
4
Lucy comes back to herself fully in the rear of Tommo’s car. Five seconds of confusion, a frantic scrabbling for memory. Then her back arches. Her lower legs corkscrew in the footwell.
Noemie touches her arm and it’s too much. Lucy bucks, twists. It takes the strength of both her friends to hold her down. Tommo casts anxious looks behind him. ‘You want me to pull over?’
‘Let’s just get her home,’ Noemie says. ‘Coast road up to Mortis Point.’
‘No,’ Lucy shouts, struggling up. ‘Not home, not yet.’
‘Where else do you want to be?’
‘The beach,’ she says. ‘Penleith Beach.’
‘Thebeach? Hon, I don’t think that’s a great idea.’
‘Please, I just need to—’
‘Luce, you just had a—’
‘PLEASE!’
Pain drills her side. It feels like her ribs have snapped into spearheads. ‘Please,’ she gasps. ‘Not to the house. Listen to me, please listen. I can’t go there, not yet. Penleith Beach – I just need to stand there a while. I just … I just need to say …’
Lucy can’t finish the sentence. Can’t do anything except take shallow sips of air.
Tommo looks round for guidance.
Noemie nods.
5
Penleith Beach lies north of Skentel, separated by the peninsula of Mortis Point. They reach it via a sandy track off the coast road. At the bottom, a tall dune blocks their view of the sea.
‘If you follow it along,’ Bee says, ‘you’ll reach a point where you can drive directly on to the sand.’ Tommo does as he’s instructed. Finally, the beach reveals itself.
This is the place where Fin learned to swim; where Billie learned her love of the ocean; where Daniel set up his business. It’s the beach from the photo on his desk, the light golden and the sea a turquoise calm.