Page 65 of Take Me Away

I watch this interaction with a tightness in my chest. This village. These people. The way they wrap around Kit’s daughter like a protective embrace.

‘He’s done this hundreds of times,’ Nina says quietly, misreading my expression. ‘Kit’s the best coxswain they’ve got. If anyone can make it back safely in this weather, it’s him.’

‘But it’s not always safe, is it?’ The words slip out before I can stop them. ‘Even for the best.’

Nina glances at Maisie, who’s busy arranging coloured pencils from her small backpack, seemingly oblivious to our conversation.

‘He’s calmer now, not so angry,’ Nina murmurs, leaning closer. ‘After Jess died, he was wild with fury. Wouldn’t talk to anyone, wouldn’t come near any of us. That’s how Jude’s accident happened.’

I blink. ‘Jude’s accident?’

‘You’ve seen his limp?’

I nod, but my heart is pounding unevenly in my chest.

‘It was right after Jessica’s funeral. Kit was … not himself. Wanted to check on some equipment at the oyster beds but there was a storm warning. Jude tried to stop him going alone and ended up going with him. They capsized and Jude’s leg was crushed between the boat and the rocks.’

My throat tightens. Kit, grieving and angry. Kit, getting his brother hurt.

‘Does Jude blame him?’

‘Jude says there’s nothing to blame. But Kit…’ Nina shakes her head. ‘Kit blames himself enough for everyone.’

Before I can respond, Tilly returns with our drinks. Maisie looks up from her colouring, examining me with that too-perceptive gaze again.

‘Are you drawing with me?’ she asks, pushing paper and a pencil towards me. ‘I’m doing a picture for Dad. For when he gets back.’

When he gets back. Not if. The certainty in her voice nearly breaks me.

‘I’d love to,’ I say, taking the pencil.

In the end, I sketch the cottage, with its newly repaired roof. A simple thank you. A reminder of solid ground.

Time stretches like saltwater taffy, sticky and slow. More people arrive, soaked and worried. Dot from the post office. Bill and Frankie from the fish shack. Reuben, Kit’s father, who gives me a long, inscrutable look before nodding briefly and taking a seat at the bar.

Nina occasionally checks her phone. ‘They’ll call when they’re close,’ she explains, catching my glance.

Maisie colours steadily, focused and determined.

My ankle throbs beneath the table, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

Chapter Fifteen

KIT

The sea is a bastard tonight.

But maybe that’s me who’s a bastard, because I kissed someone who’s not my wife. Worse, I kissed the woman I loved before her.

The wind howls like it’s got something to prove, driving the rain sideways in sheets that sting the skin and blur every horizon. The lifeboat bucks beneath us, each swell hammering the hull like a grudge. I keep one hand tight on the wheel, the other steady on the throttle, eyes narrowed against the salt spray.

Pencarrow Point looms somewhere dead ahead – rocks jagged enough to gut a hull and leave nothing but splinters and grief. Visibility’s shot to hell. Radar’s glitching from the interference. The coordinates we’ve got are rough, but it’s the last ping from the capsized boat. That’s enough to go on. It has to be.

Behind me, Jude braces himself against the cabin rail.

‘Coming up fast on the break,’ he shouts.

‘I see it.’