The Survivors, стр. 38

‘Really? Nothing at all?’

‘Nope. No headstone, no plaque –’ Olivia nodded as they passed a memorial bench. ‘Not one of those. We never talk about Gabby anymore.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know exactly. I thought we should, but then I’ve also read that rehashing the past can do more harm than good for some people. Breaks down their protective defences or something. Depends on the person, I guess.’

‘Right.’ Kieran hadn’t heard that specifically, but unexpectedly he thought of Verity. The way she was always doing something with her therapy books and online support groups and self-improvement homework. The brittle face of her constant, unceasing, grinding strive for inner serenity.

‘So now I just let Mum lead the way,’ Olivia was saying. ‘It’s not great, though. She still really struggles to accept what happened.’

‘Even now?’

‘I think mainly because Gabby was never found.’

‘Yeah.’ Kieran hesitated. ‘But –’

‘No, I know,’ Olivia said as they took a left turn, past some of the newer headstones. ‘It’s ridiculous. I’m not saying she thinks Gabby is in her twenties and walking around some city on the mainland or anything –’ There was the tiniest pause in which Kieran wondered if deep down that was exactly what Trish Birch occasionally let herself think. ‘But Mum used to worry about Gabby even before the storm. Because she always looked older, you know, so she’d get a bit of attention. People would forget she was only fourteen.’

They turned into the next row, reading the names as they went.

‘It probably doesn’t help that they weren’t on great terms at the end either,’ Olivia said, fiddling with the sleeve of her borrowed jumper. ‘That whole thing with Mum confiscating Gabby’s phone. Gabby was really upset. And then Mum’s stuck knowing that her daughter didn’t have a phone with her when she went missing. It’s the kind of thing that haunts you, I suppose. Oh, hey –’ Olivia pointed at a simple grey headstone near the end of the line. ‘Is that it?’

Yep, Kieran thought as he stepped closer to read the engraving. That was it. Finn Elliott, twenty-six years old, beloved son and brother. Gone too soon.

There were no flowers or footy scarves on this plot, but it did look like someone – Ash, probably, or perhaps Verity – kept it weeded and trimmed. Kieran stood there, looking down at the earth where his brother lay buried. He had loved Finn. He still missed him. He looked up at Finn’s headstone and waited to feel something. Something more, at least, than what he felt every day.

‘Don’t worry about it. My mum would agree,’ Olivia said, when it felt like they’d been waiting a while. She was sitting on a nearby memorial bench, watching him. ‘Visiting a grave doesn’t do it for everyone.’

He stepped away and sat down next to her, their clothes flapping in the wind. Kieran reached into his bag and mixed up a bottle of formula for Audrey.

‘She tried to kill herself, actually.’ Olivia’s voice was quiet.

‘Your mum did?’ Kieran looked over. ‘Shit, Liv. I’m sorry. That’s hard.’

‘Yeah. That’s why I had to move back. Don’t spread it around.’ She sighed as Kieran shook his head. ‘I think a few people suspect anyway, though. Mum reckons it was a mistake. She said she messed up her dose, but she’s been on sleeping pills for twelve years and always managed to keep track before.’

‘When was this?’

‘A few months after the ten-year anniversary. I think it was too much of a reminder – the date coming and going and nothing having changed.’

Kieran had found the ten-year mark difficult himself, and he suspected Verity had also struggled, although she hadn’t admitted it. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to come back to Evelyn Bay that year, or at all since, in fact.

‘Bronte’s parents are due to arrive today,’ Olivia said suddenly. She’d been staring at the headstones. ‘They were stuck on a cruise so have had to fly back.’

‘Have you met them before?’

‘Once, when she first moved in. They’re both civil servants in Canberra. Quite high up, I think. Her mum was involved in that committee that tightened all the restrictions around seafood export, do you remember that? It caused a backlog and a lot of the fishermen couldn’t get rid of their catches for a while?’

Kieran shook his head. ‘Not really.’

‘Well, anyway. I told Bronte not to mention that too loudly around here,’ Olivia said. ‘Her parents seemed nice, though. Very … efficient. God knows how they must be feeling now.’

‘Any more from the cops?’

‘No.’ Olivia shifted uneasily. ‘But they were back at the house early this morning.’

‘Did they tell you why?’

She shook her head. ‘I heard they were checking the neighbours’ gardens. Going through their bins.’

‘Looking for something?’

‘Must be, but I don’t know what. I asked Renn straight out when he called last night to check how many sets of keys we had. He wouldn’t tell me. Just danced around it. Said it was procedure.’

‘Maybe it is.’

‘Maybe.’ Olivia picked at her thumbnail. ‘Ash says I should be careful. He reckons they think I know something I’m not telling them.’ She looked over. ‘I don’t. For the record.’

‘I didn’t think any differently.’

In the silence, Kieran could hear the seagulls calling.

‘If I did,’ Olivia said, ‘I would tell them. Bronte reminded me of Gabby a bit.’

‘Did she really?’ Kieran was surprised.

‘Yeah. Not physically, obviously, and not even in her mannerisms so much. More –’ Olivia thought for a minute. ‘They were both the kind of girl who felt they had to please people. It’s like this whole thing with Liam.’

‘What about it?’

‘I mean, Sean’s right –’ Olivia shrugged. ‘Liam and Bronte did get along okay. She never complained about him or anything. But she was quite sensitive to people’s feelings, and Liam can be … intense. Other girls might have told him to get lost, but Bronte would have worried about embarrassing him. She would’ve let him know she wasn’t interested, but it might