for Daddy, darling,’ she said, breathing in her scent. ‘You’ll see Mummy in three days. I love you so much.’
Joni wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and pressed her nose against her cheek. ‘Mama.’
‘Mama?’ Guy asked, tilting his head.
‘Yes, she said it for the first time the other day.’ She didn’t want to say what day.
‘What a clever girl!’
‘I know, isn’t she?’
They smiled at each other and her heart ached for all that was lost between them. Then Guy broke her gaze.
She handed Joni back to him, trying to stop herself crying. This was unbearable, she didn’t want to lose sight of her daughter for one moment and yet here she was, handing her over for three whole days.
It’s for the best, she reasoned with herself. Joni will be safe with her father.
‘We have lots of plans, little girl,’ he said to Joni. ‘Your Uncle James and Auntie Liz are coming over with Isobel and Anya tomorrow.’
Joni smiled, recognising her little cousins’ names.
‘Then I’m thinking a day at the beach is in order if it’s not too hot.’
‘Sounds fun,’ Anna said, forcing a smile for the sake of her daughter.
Guy looked at Anna. ‘It’ll all work out, Anna.’
Joni reached her chubby hand out for her mother. Anna grasped it.
It had to work out.
The rest of the evening, Anna tried to relax, picking up one of Florence’s magazines and flicking through it. Then she paused. There was an article about the community centre in The Docks that her gran sometimes helped out at, Anna too, on occasion.
Could she have met Elliot Nunn at one of those events? She remembered meeting a few of the kids at some event a few months ago. But there had been so many of them, their faces blurring into one. Except one kid, Ben Miller. His father worked as a caretaker for the building where Guy’s architect company was based. His mother had died when he was just eleven, just as Anna’s father had died when she was eleven.
He worked at the newsagents down the road.
Before she knew what she was doing, she jumped up, grabbing her cardigan and pulling its hood over her head, putting some sunglasses on.
‘Just popping out,’ she shouted up to Florence.
Florence appeared at the landing, a look of alarm on her face. ‘Out? Anna, is that a good idea?’
‘Look at me,’ she said, gesturing to her sunglasses. ‘If I see someone who saw me that day, they won’t recognise me.’
‘I don’t know, poppet…’
‘I need the fresh air. I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.’
She blew her gran a kiss then let herself out. As the door shut behind her, she paused a few moments, blinking up at the setting sun. She hadn’t walked outside alone since what happened and her heart hammered at the thought.
She put her hand back on the door handle. Maybe Florence was right? Anyway, what exactly did she think she’d achieve going to see Ben Miller?
But then her fingers slipped from the handle and she found herself walking to the newsagents. It was just a couple of minutes away, right next to the greengrocers and facing the sea. She saw the headline scream out at her from the placard outside: ‘Dead boy’s father is known criminal.’ Anna shuddered and lowered her head, quickly walking into the newsagents.
She was relieved to see it was empty inside apart from Ben Miller who was bopping along to some music as he filled up the shelves, his dark fringe bouncing in his eyes, the smart red shirt he wore for work creased. A fan behind him lifted the edges of the newspapers nearby, Elliot’s face on every one of them.
Anna took her sunglasses off. ‘Hi, Ben,’ she said, trying to keep her voice normal.
He peered up and smiled. ‘Oh, hello, Mrs Graves. How’s Joni?’
She smiled. ‘Joni’s good.’
He’d always been so polite, so sweet. His father was a good man, trying his best for his two sons by working hard. His eldest son had been in trouble with the police. But Ben had kept on the straight and narrow, working at the shop, keeping his head down with his studies, even helping the community centre out every now and again. He’d once confided in Anna during one of those events that he wanted to leave Ridgmont Waters. That was the way it was with the kids who lived on the coast. While ‘inlanders’, as the villagers referred to people inland, were desperate to flock to the sea in the summer, if you’d lived there all your life, you were desperate to get away. All you saw was the way the salt air rotted the houses, how the harsh winters gobbled up any free time, how if the wind was in the wrong direction, the village could stink of dead fish and seaweed.
Anna hadn’t been like most kids though. Her father used to say the sea ran through her veins. She loved it there and couldn’t imagine leaving.
Until now. Maybe she’d have no choice when her name got out?
‘How are you?’ Anna asked Ben now, grabbing some milk.
His face flickered with sadness. ‘All right, I suppose,’ he said as he walked around the counter
‘Did you know Elliot Nunn?’ she asked softly, her heart thudding in her ears. She knew how strange and maybe wrong this conversation would seem to Ben once news of Anna got out. But this might be her only chance to talk to him.
Ben flinched. ‘Yeah, he was my mate.’
‘I’m really sorry, Ben.’
He shrugged. ‘That’s okay.’
‘Do you think Elliot meant to hurt the woman and her baby?’ Anna asked, trying to be casual as she dug around in her purse for some money.
Ben frowned. ‘No, Elliot wasn’t like that.’
She peered up at Ben. ‘Not violent?’
‘No way! Not until the other day anyway. I mean his family…’ He peered over Anna’s shoulder then lowered his voice. ‘They’re a bit dodgy, everyone’s scared of his brother. But not Elliot.’
‘That event I went to in the spring, the Easter digathon? Was Elliot there?’
‘Yeah, I think he was actually.’
Anna handed her money over. ‘So he did go to some of the community centre events then?’
‘Sometimes, if his dad let him.’
‘Why wouldn’t his dad let him?’
‘Says it’s for Nancy boys.’
Anna
