The Burnout(102)

“I’ll do the same.” His face contorts itself into the same kind of miserable, effortful smile as mine. “I’ll write ‘Sasha’s wellness’ on mine.”

“It’s bound to work.” I force a light tone. “ ‘Manifestation’ is on the 20 Steps app, after all.”

“The app never lies,” affirms Finn.

Somehow we’re edging back into a safe place, where our emotions are tucked away, where we can joke and make eye contact and my heart doesn’t feel shredded.

“Do you want another drink?” says Finn. “I’ll get us both another one.”

He turns away, as though he needs a breather to pull himself together, and I exhale. There. Done. Band-Aid ripped off.

Skin raw.

Heart a mess.

But it’ll heal. I’ll heal. Let’s look at what I have to be grateful for. I have my Tesco order and I have my job offer and I have my beautiful life to make … plants to throw away … I must buy Coco a birthday present—

My thoughts break off as I see Terry’s daughter, Tessa, hovering, a couple of meters away.

“Hi,” I say, and gesture around. “Stunning, isn’t it?”

I wait for her to make some remark in return, but she just keeps on gazing me from behind her curls, in that imploring way she has.

“I hope you didn’t mind,” she says at last, her voice low and anxious.

“Mind?” I echo, baffled. “Mind what?”

“I know it was a bit strange, only I couldn’t just come up and …” She looks warily around, then lowers her voice. “Dad wouldn’t let us talk about it. Ever. Even years later.”

“Tessa …” I stare at her. I’m getting the weirdest feeling. My head is prickling. Everything’s coming together in my mind. Tessa takes a step forward, her big-eyed gaze still on me, biting her lip nervously.

“But then I saw your names.” She seems consumed by some emotion. “You were back in Rilston. Well, I couldn’t do nothing.”

“Tessa …” I swallow several times. “Did you write the messages on the beach?”

“Of course.”

“Right.” I try to stay calm, even though I feel a bit overwhelmed. “I see. It was you.”

“Of course it was me. I thought you knew.”

She seems quite matter-of-fact. But at the same time, she’s got such a twitchy manner, I feel as though she might skitter away at any moment. I need to tread carefully.

“You wrote, ‘To the couple on the beach. Thank you,’ ” I clarify. “Was that addressed to … both of us?”

“You and Finn.” She nods. “Joint.”

I’m feeling an almighty surge of exhilaration. I was right! It wasn’t a Mavis Adler fan. It was a series of messages to Finn and me, exactly as we first suspected, and there’s only one small question remaining.

“But, Tessa … why?”

“Why?” She seems perplexed. “Well … because of what you did. Because you saved Dad.”

“We saved Terry?” I stare at her, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“You told the police what you saw,” she says simply. “Both of you came forward, told the same story. Honest-sounding kids, no reason to lie. It changed their minds. Sasha Worth and Finn Birchall.” She pauses, with a reminiscent smile. “Sandra’s best friend was in the police and told her your names, though she shouldn’t have. Sandra always wanted to find you, say thank you, but you weren’t here the next year.”

“Neither of us have been back for twenty years,” I say slowly, then look up as Finn approaches.

“Finn, let me introduce our sand fairy,” I say, and watch in satisfaction as his jaw sags. “It was to do with the accident, after all. We changed the police’s minds, apparently. You and me!”

“Changed the police’s minds?” Finn looks thunderstruck.

“They thought it was Dad’s faulty kayak at first,” Tessa explains. “Pete tried to stitch him up, good and proper.”

“But I still don’t get how we helped,” I say. “I went to the police with some ridiculous story about a life jacket, when it wasn’t even the life jacket that was faulty. How could that have changed their minds?”

“The life jacket wasn’t the point,” says Tessa. “The fire was the point. You both saw Pete poking a fire, and that got them thinking.”

“So what did Pete do, exactly?” asks Finn. “Do you know?”

“Pretty much,” says Tessa. “First of all, during the accident, everyone was on the beach, looking out to sea, trying to help. No one was minding the Surf Shack. So Pete slipped in and stole Dad’s log book, records, old packaging even, anything he could think of. Went and burned the lot. Because he knew Dad’s records were meticulous, and he needed them not to be available. Then he went to the police and spun his story. You know how Dad and Pete sometimes helped each other out, lent each other boards and equipment? Pete had loaned the kayak to James Reynolds, but he swore blind it was from Dad’s stock. Said Dad had vouched for its safety. Got in there quick. Tried to pin it all on him.”

“Ridiculous,” says Finn shortly. “Terry’s equipment was never anything other than immaculate.”