‘We used to live on the seventh floor of a tower block in Dagenham. The lift was always broken, and the Babylon might as well have moved in, they were cruising around so often.’
‘So . . .’ Seren nods towards The Shore.
‘Mum wanted to get me away from London.’
‘What’s so bad about London?’
‘If you listen to Mum, it’s full of crack dens and gangs who go around knifing people and mugging old ladies.’
‘Yeah, but what about the bad stuff?’
Caleb laughs, and Seren feels all warm inside. He’s staring at her, as if he’s trying to decide something, and then he reaches down and pulls up the leg of his trackpants. Around his ankle is a piece of grey plastic on a black band.
‘You’re tagged.’
He nods. He’s nervous, Seren realises.
‘What for?’
‘Stuff.’
Stuff could be anything. It could be stealing, or drug-running, or beating people up. Seren’s pulse races. It could be taking girls into the middle of nowhere and—
‘Mum hates my mates. She reckons they’re a bad influence on me. It’s just me and her at home, so it’s a bit fucking intense, you know?’
‘What happened to your dad?’
‘He became a woman.’
‘I did not expect that.’
Caleb gives a wry laugh. ‘Neither did we.’
‘Do you still see him?’
‘Yeah, of course. I mean, it’s a bit weird, but . . . he’s still my dad, you know?’
‘Mine died.’ It comes out a bit fast, and Seren realises she’s never needed to tell anyone before. Not in sixteen years. Everyone knows everything in Cwm Coed.
‘Fuck.’
‘Yeah. I never met him. He had cancer, and then my mum got pregnant. He died two weeks before I was born.’ Seren doesn’t look at Caleb while she’s talking, in case it makes her cry. Seren doesn’t miss her dad – how can you miss someone you’ve never met? – but when she misses the idea of him so much it hurts.
‘My sister’s loads older than me, so I think I was, like, Dad’s final present to Mam.’ Seren pretends to stick her fingers down her throat, and Caleb laughs.
‘How old’s your sister?’
‘Thirty. She’s a p—’ Seren remembers Caleb’s comment about the Babylon. ‘Proper bitch,’ she says instead, which is unfair. Ffion’s a mardy cow, and she pokes her nose where it’s not wanted, but that’s just because she’s old.
Caleb puts his hand on the grass in front of him, his fingers touching Seren’s. ‘So it’s you and your mum, then? Like me.’
Seren’s breathing’s gone shallow and her blood feels all fizzy. If he kisses her, she decides, she’ll kiss him back. Maybe.
‘Come on.’ Caleb jumps up and stretches down a hand. ‘I’ll show you around The Shore. You can hang out with me and the twins.’
Seren feels a buzz of excitement.
Something big is going to happen this year – she can feel it.
THIRTY-ONE
JANUARY 7TH | FFION
As a kid, Ffion went to the lake all the time. What else was there to do, in a town the size of Cwm Coed? She remembers wondering why the grown-ups never swam, then reaching adulthood herself and realising she’d gone weeks without getting her feet wet.
Now, the lake is where she comes to think. Where she comes to de-stress, or untangle a knotty problem; at work, or at home. She has an office – a cupboard-sized room at the top of a community police station – but she rarely uses it. Instead, she works in her car, parked looking down on a valley, or here, by the side of Llyn Drych.
The lake was where Ffion came when she realised she was going to leave Huw. She walked along the water’s edge, the pebbles slipping beneath her feet, as she grappled with how to tell her husband their marriage was over.
She needs the lake today.
This morning, Leo had sent her a message.
I know Lloyd called you the day he died.
Ffion had switched off her phone. She’d driven into the mountains, blind with panic and unable to think what to do. All morning she’d fought with her conscience, with the past, with what would happen if she were to tell the truth.
At noon, Ffion drove back down to the lake. Now, she stands next to the Triumph and shrugs off her coat. With the exception of the annual New Year’s Day swim – which hardly counts, they’re in and out so fast – she hasn’t swum in the winter for years. She remembers the sting of the cold, but – more than that – she remembers the high. The sharp mental clarity. That’s what she needs.