The Survivors, стр. 66
Kieran had woken up in the dark, alerted by the stuttering warning cry from the cot, and had crawled reluctantly out of bed. He had fed Audrey and read to her from a picture book that hinted heavily on its front cover that it would unlock her genius potential. Instead, it had sent her back to sleep, which in that moment seemed like an even better result. They should have put that on the cover. By then, the sky was starting to lighten but the house was still sleeping, so Kieran had wrapped her up, grabbed his towel and taken them both out into the crisp morning cold.
His head was still full of the community meeting as he swam. Renn had moved fast after Bronte’s mother’s speech, Kieran had to give him that. Her words had barely landed before the sergeant had taken two swift strides across the stage and, hands firmly on their backs, shepherded Andrea and Nick through the crowd and out of the door.
It had taken everyone else a little longer to react, the response swelling from a rumble to a low roar. Mia had been quick off the mark, darting out with Audrey to reclaim the pram, leaving Kieran and George pressed closer than was comfortable as they and several hundred of their neighbours attempted to squeeze through the bottleneck at the door. A pair of uniformed officers were passing out fistfuls of fliers as they spilled out through the main library and into the cool night air. When there was space to stop, Kieran craned his neck back over the crowd, trying to see Verity and Brian.
‘Well, I have to admit, I did not expect that.’ George examined his leaflet with the printed images of Bronte’s camera and laptop. He frowned. ‘These have to be long gone, surely?’
‘I would think so.’
‘I wonder if the police know what was on them. I mean, stuff gets backed up, doesn’t it? It seems to happen to me whether I like it or not, sometimes.’
‘I suppose,’ Kieran said. ‘Depends what kind of set-up she had in place.’
Kieran spied the top of Brian’s head and could see him being steered by Verity, who was holding his arm. Pendlebury had slowed to help and was subtly clearing a path through. As they passed an officer handing out fliers, Pendlebury took a couple. She folded one in half lengthwise, creating a crisp edge which she presented to Verity. Take this. It was an unremarkable gesture, but there was something insistent about it that put Kieran on edge.
‘Well, either the police don’t know what was on them –’ George looked up from the flier and over to Pendlebury. ‘Or they do know and haven’t managed to work out the significance yet.’
Perhaps sensing the scrutiny, Pendlebury turned her head their way. Her eyes moved between Kieran and George, and something passed across her face. It was gone almost immediately as she was forced to bring her attention back to Brian. Pendlebury had barely helped him down the last step when she was accosted by an angry woman in a pink fleece.
‘I’m going to head off,’ George said, then hesitated. He turned back to Kieran. ‘Listen, mate, now’s not the time or place, but there was something –’
He was stopped short by movement over Kieran’s shoulder, and Kieran turned to see Ash approaching, dog lead in hand, his large frame backlit by the glow from the library. George made to leave.
‘Catch you another time,’ he said, raising a hand.
‘You seen Sean anywhere?’ Ash said, lightly shoulder-barging the writer as he passed but otherwise ignoring him completely.
‘No. Think he and Julian must have made a quick exit.’
‘Don’t blame them, that was bloody intense.’ Ash shook his head. ‘I’d better go too then, Liv’s waiting. She’s pretty upset.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Not going to be the only one, I reckon. People look freaked out, don’t you think? All that stuff Bronte’s mum was saying about things coming out?’
‘Yeah.’ Kieran could see people snatching glances at each other. The atmosphere outside the library felt loaded. ‘They do.’
‘Makes you wonder, hey?’
‘It does.’
Kieran finished swimming his lap in the sea now and lifted his head, wiping the water from his eyes. He could tell Audrey was still asleep, snug in her blanket beneath the red-gold morning sky. Kieran plunged under the surface once more, feeling the burn of the cold. He swam several fast strokes, his muscles loosening as he found his rhythm. He stayed under longer this time, and when he lifted his head again, he almost breathed in a lungful of water. Audrey was where he had left her, but the beach was no longer empty. Kieran could see a figure on the sand, their shadow falling over his daughter as she slept.
Kieran had found his feet in seconds, driving his way through the water to the shore, ignoring the frigid air stinging his wet skin.
‘Oi!’
The figure turned at his shout. Kieran swiped the salt water from his eyes, blinking as the face took shape. Trish Birch.
He slowed, just a little. Trish straightened and raised her hand. She took a step away from his daughter, and Kieran stopped running and started wading instead. It’s okay, he told himself, while his heart still pounded.
‘Hello,’ she called as he hit the sand. ‘I’m so sorry. I was –’
‘No, I’m sorry.’ Kieran reached them and bent down for his towel, a little unsure why he still felt the urge to position himself between Trish and his baby as he dried off. Audrey was asleep, peaceful and oblivious. ‘I just got a surprise.’
‘Of course,’ Trish said. ‘I was only –’ She faltered, a tiny frown on her face as she glanced around. ‘I mean, do you think