day before hadn’t been a dream though. The day before, it had been real. She knew because she could still smell his blood, the sickly metallic tang of it. Still see the way his eyes had looked into nothingness as he took his last shuddering breath. It wasn’t as bad as when she’d seen her father dead, his long body twisted on the rocks, the sea a violent thunder of grey behind. But it came close. The schoolboy was sprawled on the ground, blue eyes staring up, comb glistening with his blood as it lay by his side.
Anna hardly remembered what happened after that, it came in a flash of images, sounds and tastes. Shrill sirens getting closer and closer. People appearing on the beach like ants from the village and The Docks, news already spreading so fast. Then police officers running along the pebbles from all directions, the whine of a distant helicopter. Anna’s own desperate screams when a female police officer tried to take Joni away. The feel of the handcuffs against her wrists, a police officer softly grasping her elbow. She found comfort in that, the gentle way he’d handled her. Did that mean they understood she had only been protecting herself, most of all her daughter?
They weren’t so gentle when she was questioned in the stiflingly hot police station later, the storm that had been threatening earlier was now in full force outside, thunder and lightning making Anna jump. Anna could even hear the sea, the waves were so ferocious, despite the police station being one of the most inland buildings of the village.
Detective Morgan, a middle-aged man with a bulbous red nose and piercing blue eyes, was assigned to her case. He sat with his arms crossed, eyes hard, skin glistening with sweat from the unbearable heat. Next to Anna was the only solicitor she knew, a small bald man called Jeremy from the firm of local solicitors in the village she’d been using for the house move.
Did she know the boy, the detective asked? Did she carry the comb in self-defence? Had she intended to kill him?
No, no, no, she answered before asking over and over when she could see her daughter. The detective had reassured her she was in the safe hands of Anna’s gran now, that she’d had a check-up and was fine. But that didn’t stop Anna needing to see Joni.
Then she was left alone in the room with her solicitor for what seemed like an eternity. She remembered putting her hand to her own cheek, feeling the large gauze over it and not even remembering how the gauze had got there, how the stitches in her cheek had been etched into her skin either.
After a while, the detective returned.
‘I’m sorry I was hard on you, Anna,’ he said, sitting across from her, face softer now, eyes kinder. ‘But you need to understand the position we’re in.’
‘I just want to see my daughter,’ she said.
‘What’s the charge, Detective Morgan?’ her solicitor asked him, the only fan in the room lifting the few strands of hair he had.
The detective looked Anna in the eye. ‘No charge. We’ll be releasing you pending further investigation, Anna.’
‘But I was arrested.’
‘Yes, but we have decided not to charge you. It was clear self-defence, Anna. You said yourself the boy fell against your comb and we have three witnesses to back that up.’
The relief had been immense. ‘So I can leave?’ she’d asked, incredulous.
‘Yes, everything you’ve said matches up with witness statements. But Anna,’ the detective said, looking her in the eye, ‘tensions are high out there. I recommend you leave via the back entrance.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The boy’s family. Your name isn’t out there yet but people saw you at the scene, someone may recognise you and…’ His voice trailed off.
‘But I didn’t mean to kill him,’ Anna said.
‘We know that. But right now, his family will be wanting a target for their grief, especially the brother.’
The brother.
‘We understand,’ her solicitor, Jeremy, said, nodding. He turned to Anna. ‘Maybe you should stay at Florence’s this evening?’ he said, referring to Anna’s gran. ‘Just to be on the safe side.’
Panic fluttered inside Anna’s chest. ‘But no one knows where I live, do they?’
‘Someone may have recognised you from your estate,’ the detective said. ‘You’re a radio presenter, after all.’
Anna shook her head. ‘Nathan’s the public face of the station, people only know my voice.’
‘I still think Jeremy’s right. Your daughter’s with your grandmother anyway, it would certainly be worth you staying there tonight.’
A few moments later, Jeremy drove Anna away from the station to her gran’s house. As they passed the front, she looked out to see a group of people gathered on the marble steps. A thin dark-haired woman was being comforted by a red-haired man. A red-haired woman was leaning against a pillar, smoking as she scowled up at the station. Two other women, one with a child in a pushchair, were sobbing as they clutched onto each other.
Standing apart from them all was a man with tattooed arms, looking out towards the sea, his back to Anna.
Anna looked at the dark-haired woman again. Was that the boy’s mother? The large red-haired man next to her turned towards Anna, his blue eyes – blue eyes just like the boy’s – sinking into hers.
They were filled with fury.
She quickly looked away.
She’d caused that grief, that anger.
‘Oh Christ,’ Anna said, the memories crashing over her now.
The floorboards creaked and her gran Florence appeared at the door.
‘You look predictably exhausted, poppet,’ Florence said, wrapping her soft fleece dressing gown around her plump frame as she sat on the bed, the early morning sun highlighting the creases around her blue eyes.
Anna blinked in disbelief. ‘It really happened, didn’t it?’
‘I’m afraid it did, Anna.’
Anna peered out at the sea through a gap in the curtains. A fisherman wandered down the shore, his nets trailing out behind him, a boat bobbing up and down nearby. Seagulls squawked, a child shrieking in happiness as his mother chased him in and out of the tide, probably one of the many tourists that visited at this time of year. The pebbles were still wet from the storm the day before but the sky was bright blue, promising yet another blisteringly hot day.
Florence followed Anna’s gaze as she watched the mother and son outside. ‘You did what any mother would do,’ she said gently.
Anna looked down at Joni. ‘Like the boy’s mother? Does she want to kill me like I killed her son?’
‘Don’t let guilt eat you up. If you hadn’t done what you did…’ Florence shuddered. ‘I can’t even contemplate it.’
Joni stirred, stretching her tiny arms above her head and yawning. Anna gently lifted Joni, placing her against her shoulder. Anna didn’t usually let Joni sleep
