Secrets of the Tides (33 page)

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Authors: Hannah Richell

BOOK: Secrets of the Tides
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Richard quietly replaced the handset and turned to them both.

‘I don’t know, love. I honestly don’t know. They think they’ve found her on their CCTV footage.’

‘Where? What was she doing?’

Richard carefully explained how the Metropolitan police had found a grainy image of a girl matching Cassie’s description getting off the train at Waterloo around midday. Instead of making her way into the Underground, as intended, she had exited the station by foot. The cameras lost sight of her at the turning for Westminster Bridge, but the evidence was damningly clear: Cassie had left the station of her own free will and the police were no longer invested in the problem: there was nothing more they could do.

‘At least we know she’s OK, right?’ Dora asked, nervously biting at her fingernails. ‘I mean, she’s clearly run away, not been . . . not . . .’ Her words petered out.

Richard sighed. ‘I just don’t know, Dora.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything any more.’

‘But we’ll find her, right? It’s just a matter of time.’

For once Richard couldn’t answer. Instead, he reached for the telephone. He had only one purpose: finding Cassie.

It was the anger that surprised Dora. It welled up inside her like white-hot lava. How dare Cassie run away like that? Wasn’t it enough to be able to leave for university in a blaze of glory? She’d had the perfect excuse to escape and still it hadn’t been enough. She’d had to go one better and disappear without a trace, leaving them all worried and distraught. How dare she be so selfish? It was so pointed, so cruel. Surely her sister would know better than most people how that would bring the anxiety and pain of Alfie’s vanishing flooding back to them all? Didn’t she care how they suffered? Were they not worth one phone call, one email, just to put them out of their misery?

And more to the point, why hadn’t she told Dora about her secret plans? Why hadn’t she treated her as a confidante? For Cassie to have planned her escape and not breathed one word of it to Dora, after all they had experienced together, well, it felt like the ultimate abandonment.

What about all that rubbish Cassie had spouted a few years ago? What had happened to the sister who solemnly told her, ‘it’s you and me against the world . . . we’ve got to stick together, haven’t we . . . it’s what sisters do.’ What a load of crap! Her sister was full of it; the memory of those words made Dora’s blood boil even hotter, for it only served to remind her, once again, how alone she truly was. Dora wasn’t sure she would ever truly be able to forgive her sister for that.

An eerie atmosphere descended on Clifftops, like a thick winter fog rolling in off the sea. Things were painfully tense; Helen closeted herself away in her study while Richard seemed to come and go from the house at odd hours. Neither of them, it seemed, were much concerned with Dora’s whereabouts and with both of them so distracted, she found herself wandering the corridors of Clifftops like some ghostly orphan. She made her own meals, dug around in the washing basket for clothes and went up to bed each night watching her mother’s shadow moving in the gap beneath the closed study door.

As the hours ticked slowly by Dora struggled with the monumental loneliness. She considered calling Steven, wondering if it was too late to take him up on his offer of escape, but she could never quite bring herself to pick up the telephone; a creeping self-doubt paralysed her from contacting him. In the end, it was her mother she reached out to, daring to knock on her study door one morning before school.

‘Is everything OK?’ Helen asked, eyeing her wearily from the door. ‘Did your father ring?’

Dora shook her head. ‘I thought you might want this.’

Helen looked down at the cup of tea Dora held in her outstretched hands as if it were a strange, unidentifiable object. ‘Oh, thanks.’ She took it and placed it carefully behind her, on the edge of her desk.

‘I think the milk’s on the turn, sorry,’ Dora added. Neither of them had thought to go shopping.

Helen nodded. ‘You off to school?’

‘Yes.’

Helen was clearly distracted. ‘Did you find something for your packed lunch?’

Dora nodded. She’d rifled through the cupboards until she’d found some sultanas and an old packet of cereal bars.

‘Good.’

They stared at each other for a moment and Dora could see the pain and worry etched in the violet shadows under her mother’s eyes. It was like looking in the mirror. She wanted to reach out and touch her, to be pulled into her mother’s embrace and feel the warmth of her arms around her, to breathe in the fresh, clean scent of her. At that moment, she realised, she would have given anything to be held by the woman who had comforted and soothed her as a little girl – the woman who had always chased away the nightmares and reassured her that everything would be all right. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes and forced them back.

Helen looked back at her desk. ‘Well, thanks for the tea . . .’

‘Mum . . .’ Dora tried, desperate to keep the chink of communication open for a moment longer. ‘Cassie’ll be OK, won’t she? I mean, she’s eighteen, and tough. She can look out for herself, don’t you think?’

Helen studied Dora for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she agreed finally, ‘I suppose so. She’s not exactly a
baby
, is she?’

Dora didn’t know if Helen had intended to reference Alfie but she recoiled at her mother’s words. Alfie. It was always going to be there, between them. Would they never get past it? Would she never let her in?

Dora turned silently and headed towards the front door, hearing the gentlest of clicks as Helen closed the study door behind her.

It was four o’clock the following afternoon when Richard burst through the back door.

‘Helen! Helen, are you here?’ Then, seeing Dora emerge from the living room, ‘Dora, quick, where’s your mother?’

‘In her study, I think. What is it?’

‘Go and get her. Go!’

Dora was turning on her heel as ordered when Helen appeared in the hall. ‘What is it? Have they found her?’

Richard went straight to his wife and took her hands carefully in his. ‘You need to stay calm, OK?’

‘What is it, Richard? For God’s sake, just tell me.’

‘They’ve found her.’

Dora felt her stomach plunge. It was obvious it wasn’t good news.

‘Tell me, Richard, you’re scaring me.’

‘She . . . she . . .’ Richard seemed to struggle with the words.

Dora noticed his hands were trembling. She swallowed.

‘She . . . she threw herself off a bridge,’ he managed finally, ‘into the Thames.’

‘What?’ Helen looked at him, aghast.

Dora suddenly felt as though she had slipped into some other world; the day had taken on a surreal, shimmering quality.

‘Is she . . .?’

He shook his head. ‘No, she’s alive. She’s in hospital.’

Helen gave a small sigh of relief. Dora thought she looked as though she might collapse.

‘Oh thank God.’

Silence filled the room as they all processed the enormity of Richard’s words.

‘What do you mean “threw herself off”?’ Helen asked finally. ‘You mean . . .’

Richard nodded. ‘Yes . . . she tried to kill herself.’ His face was white and Dora could see how hard it had been for him to even say the words out loud.

Helen shook her head. ‘No, it’s not possible. Cassie would never do that.’ She bit her lip. ‘No. It must have been an accident. Perhaps she fell?’

As the three of them stood in silence once more, an image of Cassie’s ravaged arms swam before Dora’s eyes.

‘No, it’s true,’ Richard continued. ‘Someone saw her jump – thank God – and they were able to fish her out, just in time. They took her to St Thomas’s. She was resuscitated and treated for pneumonia. She picked up a nasty water-borne infection too. They’ve kept her in all this time. Seems she gave a false name. That’s why it’s taken us so long to track her down.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘The investigator I hired just called me with the news. I’m going to head up there right away and meet him.’

‘I’ll come too,’ said Helen immediately.

‘No, love,’ Richard urged gently. ‘I think you should stay here.’ Dora saw the meaningful nod in her direction. ‘Anyway, this chap has suggested we take things slow with Cassie, and for what it’s worth, I think he’s right. We don’t want to overwhelm her. He seems to know what he’s talking about. I’ll try and see her tomorrow, have a gentle chat with her then and convince her to come back with me.’

Helen shook her head. ‘This just doesn’t make any sense.’

‘I know, love.’

‘You’ll bring her home?’

‘Yes,’ said Richard.

‘Good, she should be here with us, at least until she’s feeling well again.’ Helen seemed to think for a moment. ‘I’ll call the university. I’m sure they’ll keep her place on hold. We can bring her home, get her strong again and then take her up there ourselves in a few days. She shouldn’t miss too much of the first term.’

Dora stared in disbelief at her mother. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. It seemed her father couldn’t either.

‘Helen, do you understand what I just told you?’ He seemed visibly shaken. ‘Cassie has tried to commit suicide. I hardly think a place at university is the priority right now, do you?’

‘Well she can’t just throw away her future.’ Dora winced, but Helen was oblivious to the sad irony of her words and carried on. ‘We need to get her back on her feet. This is no time for self-pity or silly stunts. She’s got a future and a career to think of.’

‘Silly stunts?’ The colour was flooding back into Richard’s face. ‘I hardly think throwing yourself off a bridge into the Thames can be classified as a “stunt”, do you?’

‘What else is it?’

‘I’d say it’s a cry for help . . . or worse . . . a sign that she doesn’t think life is worth living any more.’ Richard ran his hands through his hair again. ‘I just don’t understand how we could have missed this. Certainly she’s been quiet . . . more withdrawn since Alfie . . . but I really thought she was doing OK. I just didn’t see what was going on . . .’ He shook his head in anger. ‘How could I have been so blind?’

‘This isn’t about you, Richard,’ Helen spat. ‘This is about Cassie. And I just want her home. I think I should come up to London too. If we caught the evening train—’

But Richard cut her off. ‘No, stay here with Dora. I can handle it.’

Helen shook her head again. ‘What on earth was she thinking? I’ve been going out of my mind with worry . . .’

‘I know,’ said Richard, ‘me too. At least we’ve found her now. I’ll bring her home, I promise. This will all be over by the weekend.’

Dora listened to their conversation with a creeping doubt. Surely they knew by now that nothing that involved Cassie was ever that easy.

Dora was in the living room flicking through the dismal Saturday night television schedules, bouncing haphazardly between an old Bond movie and a wildlife documentary, when her father’s car headlights swung up the driveway. She’d been determined to act offhand about Cassie’s return – she wasn’t going to give her sister the satisfaction of knowing how much upset she’d caused, or how much she’d been missed – but when the moment came, she found herself standing on the top step of the porch, next to Helen, peering anxiously into the darkness for a sign of her sister’s fair head. She had so much she wanted to say to her.

The driver’s door opened, a car light came on and Richard appeared in the darkness. He slunk out of the seat, slammed the car door and stomped wearily up to the front door. Dora craned her head but there was no sign of her sister behind him.

‘Where is she?’ Helen asked, a high note of panic in her voice.

Richard reached the floodlit porch and looked up at them both. Dora could see the dark shadows under his eyes and was surprised to note how old he looked.

‘She wouldn’t come.’

Helen gave a start. ‘What do you mean, “she wouldn’t come”?’

‘Just that. I tried my best, Helen, but she insisted on staying in London. I couldn’t exactly force her.’

‘But I thought she’d been discharged? I thought she was well enough to leave hospital?’

Richard nodded. ‘She is; but it seems she wants to stay in London. It’s not as if I could drag her back to us kicking and screaming, is it?’ he added quietly.

‘Why not? She should be here, with us. Not dossing in London, doing God knows what. Where is she staying? What is she doing for money? You said you’d bring her home. She’s not well, for God’s sake!’ The panic in Helen’s voice had shifted to accusation. Dora slid backwards into the shadows slightly. ‘I knew I should have gone myself.’

‘Helen, I honestly don’t think it would have made any difference if you had been there. In fact, it might have made things worse. Cassie was adamant. She wants to stay in London. She doesn’t want to come home. She wouldn’t say very much, but she did say she couldn’t face . . . well . . . any of us right now. She just wants some time and space.’

‘Space from
what
?’

Richard stared at Helen for a moment; he seemed to be about to say something and then changed his mind. ‘She says she needs to figure out who she is and what she wants from life.’ He ran his hands through his hair.

‘Who she is? What she wants?’ Helen shook her head. ‘So she’s just going to chuck away a perfectly good place at university?’

Richard shrugged.

‘I hope you told her what a mistake she’s making?’

‘Helen, she’s eighteen. I couldn’t force her. I did my best.’

‘Your best? You did your best?’ Helen spat the words. ‘You promised you’d bring her home with you. Cassie’s going to wreck her life, chuck it all away . . . just like I did!’ Helen let out a sob.

Richard eyed his wife carefully. ‘Just what do you mean by
that
?’

‘Oh forget it. You wouldn’t understand.’

Richard gave an irritated shake of his head. ‘You could at least
try
me.’ He paused for a moment. When he next spoke it was with more control. ‘I did what I thought was best. She’s our daughter. I thought I was doing the right thing.’

‘The right thing? You just left her there to fend for herself!’ She shook her head. ‘It’s pathetic, really. You’re weak. Did you even try to change her mind, or did you just roll over and let her do whatever she wants? And how do we know she won’t be jumping off the very next bridge she finds?’ She shook her head again. ‘I
knew
I should have gone with you.’

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