Sea of Lies Read online

  “Where should I go?” he asked. His voice echoed in the empty space. Water lapped at the boat and reflected green and blue off the roof.

  Harry shrugged. “Back to your mates, if I were you.”

  “They won’t take me back. You saw what happened.”

  Harry tensed. “I was at the beach, helping the women. The women you took. I saw nothing.”

  “I helped Sarah. I helped her escape. They came after us, tied me up with twine.”

  “If you say so.”

  “It’s true. Honest.”

  “Don’t waste your breath. It’s Ted you need to convince.”

  “I want to talk to Sarah first.”

  Harry let out a low laugh. “Fat chance, mate.”

  Martin hardened his jaw and put a hand on the side of the boat. He heaved himself out, half expecting one of the other men to jump him. They didn’t.

  “I’m going to find her.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  He slid past them to the boathouse door and eased it open. Outside, the air was cold and still, the only sound a flock of gulls above his head. A path led to the left. To the village.

  He clenched his fists and started walking. The sea thrummed to his left and a bird cawed in the hedge to his other side. Clouds scudded overhead, pushed southward by the wind.

  It was a climb up to the village, but he could see houses ahead, facing out to sea like a rebuke to the elements. Which one was Sarah’s?

  He tried to remember what Bill had said, the night after the abduction. She walked right out of that bloody great house, looking for a cat or something.

  Sarah lived in a large house, then. Probably near the sea, if taking her had been so easy.

  The houses were close now. He couldn’t go knocking on all of them. Maybe he’d find the pharmacy. Would Ruth help him?

  “Oi, you little fucker!”

  Ted appeared out of nowhere, his left shoulder in a sling. Blood seeped through it. Martin let himself be distracted by it; it gave Ted the chance to swing at him with his good arm.

  Ted grabbed Martin’s neck with his hand and dug his fingers in. Martin cried out.

  He brought his hands up and prised Ted’s fingers off his flesh. The older man’s hand was shaking but his grip was firm. He was panting.

  “I helped her!” Martin grunted. Ted shrieked and pulled his hand free. He dug his fingers into the flesh of Martin’s cheek.

  Martin was ready this time. After his experiences on the road as a younger man, he’d learned to defend himself. He was taller than Ted, and uninjured. He shifted his weight back and sideways, sending Ted tumbling to the ground. Ted’s grip loosened. Martin grunted and caught Ted as he fell. Don’t hurt him, he told himself. However much he wants to hurt you. This was Sarah’s father, after all.

  Ted pushed himself up, arm flailing. He threw Martin a look of pure fury and launched himself again.

  Martin side-stepped. Ted threw his good arm out to grab Martin’s waist but it wasn’t enough to stop him crashing to the ground. He landed on his shoulder, screeching in pain. He turned and heaved himself up, prodding at his bandage with a tentative finger.

  Martin turned to him, waiting. His breathing was shallow and his senses on fire. Above him, a gull cried out.

  Ted stood up. “You bastard. What did you do to my girl?”

  “I helped her escape.”

  “You were with them. The distress call, that trawler you had. The one that weren’t in distress at all.”

  “I had nothing to do with that.”

  Ted leaned in. His eyes were dark green with flecks of yellow. His breath was sharp and pungent. “Don’t lie to me!”

  “What’s going on?”

  Martin turned at the sound of the voice. Sarah?

  It was Jess, hurrying towards them from the village. She’d led the rescue party the village had sent to find the women. She’d told Martin he could come back with them.

  Martin relaxed for a moment, giving Ted an opening to swing at him, catching his chin with his fist.

  “Aay!” Martin threw his hand up to his chin. It was bleeding.

  “Ted!” Jess shouted. “Stop it. We have ways of dealing with this sort of thing.”

  Ted stood between them, his chest rising and falling. He looked like a man possessed. “You’re not dealing with me, you bitch.”

  “I don’t mean that. I mean Martin here.” Jess glanced at Martin then approached Ted. “He was involved in the abductions. Just because I let him come back with us doesn’t mean I don’t recognise that.”

  “So what you going to do about it? Set an example, I hope.”

  Martin watched her. How much was she going to tell the village, about what had happened? “The village council will have to meet,” she said. “Come to a decision.”

  “You’re not going to call the police?” said Martin.

  She eyed him. “If you know anything about this community, you’ll know that we don’t trust the authorities. They haven’t helped us in the past, and I don’t expect them to now. But surely you knew that, or why else would you have come here?”

  He shrugged. “I just did what I was told.”

  “Seriously? That’s your defence?”

  “I’m no—”

  She threw up a hand. “Save it. You’re badly cut. You need to come to the pharmacy. I’ll take you. And Ted, you need Ruth to take another look at that shoulder.”

  “Bugger that,” said Ted.

  “Thanks,” said Martin.

  Jess stared at Martin for a moment, as if sizing him up. She nodded and turned to Ted. “I can’t force you to get treatment. But please, keep the law out of your own hands for a while eh?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because that’s the way we do things round here. If you want to stay in this village, you stick to the rules.”

  “Fat lot of bloody good the rules have done so far.”

  “Save it, Ted. There’ll be a council meeting tonight. You’ll have plenty of chance to raise objections there. And go and see Ruth. Please. At least ask Dawn to get you clean bandages.”

  She turned for the village, throwing a come with me over her shoulder to Martin. He followed, half wishing for and half dreading the prospect of finding Sarah at the pharmacy.

  Chapter Three

  Sarah watched as Ruth helped Roisin out of her blood-stained skirt. The girl was shivering, her teeth chattering despite the relative warmth of the pharmacy. Her mother Flo stood next to her, a hand on her shoulder. She took the skirt off Ruth and slid it over her arm.

  The door burst open and two small boys ran in in a jumble of voices, limbs and tangled blond heads. Ruth’s mouth widened.

  “Sean! Ollie!” She bent to clasp them in a tight hug. She planted a kiss on each boy’s cheek.

  The boys huddled into their mother. One of them started to cry while the other stared at his mum, unblinking. Ruth smiled back at them through tears.

  “I’m sorry, my loves. But Mummy has to work for a bit. You know how I help people who are poorly?”

  The boy who’d been staring into his mother’s eyes nodded. His brother burrowed further into Ruth, whimpering.

  Ruth’s eyes were gleaming. Sarah stepped forward. “I’ll watch them, if you want.”

  Ruth looked up. “Just into the shop, please. Wait out there till I’m ready for you.”

  “I’m fine. I promise.”

  “I just want to check you over.”

  “Isn’t it more important for you to be with your boys?”

  “Sarah. Please, just let me do my job.”

  Ruth wiped a hand across her face. Her hands were scrubbed clean now, free of the blood that had stained them on the journey back.

  Sarah shrugged. “Come on, boys. Let’s play in the square.”

  “Sarah.”

  “We’ll be just outside, Ruth. Promise.”

  Ruth frowned at her but didn’t object. Sarah bundled the boys through the village shop that fronted th
e pharmacy, then into the cold air outside. She was glad to be away from the claustrophobia of the Murray family’s worry over Roisin, the smell of blood and stale urine.

  Outside, the air was fresh and salt-tanged, but dry. She could hear the sea beyond the village hall and smell cooking from a house just across the road. Her mouth watered. When was the last time she ate?

  “How about a game of tag?” she said to the boys. They jumped up and down, each clamouring to be ‘it’.

  “You go first, Ollie,” she said.

  “I’m Sean.”

  “Sorry. You go first, Sean. This bench is den.”

  She lowered herself to the bench, glad to be off her feet. She hadn’t slept for over eighteen hours and that had been on a filthy mattress in a dingy cell.

  “That’s cheating.”

  “Not for grown-ups, it isn’t. Look, your brother’s started running. Go after him. And don’t leave my sight!”

  She looked past them to see a door open in one of the houses. Her own house. She stiffened.

  A figure appeared in the door. Sarah stood and started running.

  “Mum!”

  Dawn’s face broke into a smile. She looked around the square then started to run. They collided not far from where Sean and Ollie had fallen into a squabbling heap on the tarmac.

  Dawn held Sarah so tight she almost lifted her off the ground. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “I know, Mum. I’m sorry.”

  Dawn stood back. She wiped her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. Those men. They should never have gone out to that distress call.”

  “I know, Mum. But it’s not as simple as that.”

  Dawn clasped her again. “Why isn’t it as simple, love? What happened?” She pulled back and her voice darkened. “They didn’t – do anything to you, did they?”

  Sarah swallowed. “No.” She tried to push out the thought of the man who’d visited her cell on the second night. He’d been young, and enthusiastic. But she’d held him off, upturning the table next to her mattress and using it as a shield.

  “You’re home,” Dawn said. “That’s what counts. Come inside. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

  “Sarah! I need you in here! Oh.”

  Sarah turned to see Ruth at the door of the shop. Flo Murray, Roisin’s mother, was leading the girl away. Roisin wore a clean blue dress and looked older than she had at the farm. Sarah watched her, wishing she could ask her if the men had visited her, if they’d threatened her too.

  “I’m taking Sarah home,” said Dawn, her voice so quiet the breeze almost carried it away.

  “I only need her for a moment,” said Ruth. “Check on that wound. Boys, come into the shop for a minute.”

  The twins groaned before righting themselves and sprinting over to their mother. She hugged them again before bundling them inside.

  Sarah clutched Dawn’s arm and looked into her eyes. “It’ll be alright, Mum.”

  Her mother seemed to have aged ten years since she’d last seen her. She wondered how her father had reacted to her disappearance; would he have taken his anger out on his wife?

  Dawn nodded and let go.

  “Have you told her about Martin?” Ruth asked as Sarah reached the doorway.

  “Not yet.”

  “He’ll be back soon, with Ben. God knows what’ll happen.”

  “I know.”

  Ruth motioned for Sarah to sit on the pharmacy’s solitary chair. She took a thermometer out of a metal container and shook it. She put it into Sarah’s mouth.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  So do I, thought Sarah. So do I.

  Chapter Four

  “Wait there.”

  Jess pushed the pharmacy door open and Martin hung behind, doing as he was told.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d been here; Ruth had brought him to the village pharmacy on the night he’d first arrived. He’d fallen off the trawler, the boat that Robert, Bill and he had convinced the villagers was in trouble. Jess and some others had saved him then Ruth had brought him here to treat him for hypothermia. That was before they had taken Ruth and Sarah, and the other two he’d never met. Before Ruth had let him stay in her and Ben’s house, where he’d taken advantage of her hospitality by drugging her and taking her away in the villagers’ own boat.

  The pharmacy was in a room off the village shop. Behind the counter of the shop, a large woman with a prominent mole above her lip and a disapproving frown watched him.

  “Ruth, I’ve got Martin,” said Jess, out of sight. “Ted’s split his chin open.”

  “He did what?”

  “It was going to happen sooner or later. Better sooner.”

  The frowning woman pulled some vegetables out of a box and placed them on a shelf, but Martin knew her attention was on him. He listened to Jess and Ruth’s conversation, wishing he could disappear.

  Jess emerged. “She’s busy. Wait here.”

  He shrugged and bent his head. His shoes were torn and full of wet sand and his clothes were stained with grass and mud. He thought of Ben’s trousers that Ruth had given him when he’d fallen overboard, his first night here. He’d still been wearing them when he drugged Ruth and dragged her from her bedroom to the waiting boat.

  He stared at the door, his chest tight. Ruth would have to be some sort of saint to treat him. Regardless of what he’d done for Sarah.

  “I have to go and deal with… never you mind what I have to do. Just wait there,” said Jess.

  He nodded.

  “Don’t move a muscle, OK?”

  He nodded again. She screwed up her mouth, glanced at the woman behind the counter then thought better of speaking. With a sigh she pushed the shop door open and disappeared outside. Martin watched her through the glass, the incongruous ting of the shop bell ringing in his ears.

  He took a deep breath and waited.

  Sarah wanted to be home, to check that her mother was all right, to know if her father had arrived yet. If he’d gone home. If he’d found Martin.

  She fidgeted as Ruth dabbed at the cut on her forehead. The disinfectant stung but it was nothing to what was going on inside her head. She’d asked Jess to let Martin come back with them. She’d convinced them to trust him, recounting the story of how he’d helped her escape. But what she hadn’t told them was how she felt when he’d admitted to being there when she was taken. That he’d been a part of it.

  She’d seen the look in his face after Robert, the ringleader, had fought with her father. She’d heard him shout that he loved her, and listened to him careering across the table towards Robert. He did it for her; at least that was what he believed.

  Robert was dead. There was no way Martin could stay at the farm after that. On impulse, she’d told him to come back here, with her.

  And now they were home. Had she made the right choice?

  The door opened and Jess appeared.

  “I’ve got Martin.”

  Sarah felt like her heart would stop. Don’t bring him in. Not here. Not now.

  Her hands were clammy and her face hot. She stared between Jess and Ruth, listening to their conversation.

  I have to face up to him sometime.

  But not yet. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mother.

  Jess closed the door – what had they decided? – and Ruth smoothed the dressing on Sarah’s forehead.

  “There. Just a surface wound. It’ll be fine. But let me know if you start feeling off-colour.”

  “Off-colour?”

  “I want to be sure you haven’t got an infection. You spent three days in filth. Heaven knows what you’ve come into contact with.”

  Sarah resisted the urge to remind Ruth that she too had spent three days in filth, on the other side of the wall.

  “Is there another way out of here?”

  Ruth frowned. “What?” She looked at the door. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry, you’re going to have to go past him. But he helped you
, didn’t he?”

  Sarah nodded. “He took you,” she said.

  Ruth’s face darkened. “I know. I don’t think it was his fault though.”

  “Really?”

  Ruth’s throat shifted as she swallowed. “Not entirely, anyway. It was Robert Cope. He forced them to do it.”

  “All of them? Even the other older one?”

  “Bill?” Ruth let out a shaky breath. “Who knows. I’m glad he stayed behind, anyway.”

  “He buried Robert’s body. With Martin.”

  Ruth put a hand on Sarah’s arm. “If you need anything, I’m always here.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t mean just physical. It’ll be hard talking to your mum about what’s happened, I imagine.”

  Sarah felt her cheeks warm. She blinked back tears. Ruth squeezed her arm.

  “Come on. I’ll take you out. You can ignore him, if you want. You’re going to have to speak to him at some point though. It was you who wanted him with us.”

  “I know. Thank you.”

  She stood up. As Ruth put a hand on the door, Sarah stopped her.

  “How can you forgive him?”

  “Martin?”

  “Mm.”

  “Like I said,” Ruth replied. “It wasn’t his idea. That was all on Robert. I certainly don’t forgive him.”

  Sarah dropped her gaze to the floor.

  “Come on then, let’s get you out of here.” Ruth pushed the door open. “Wait there, Martin. Sarah is just leaving.”

  Martin stood up. Sarah could smell him; sea and sand mixed with the mud they’d crawled through together. She clenched her eyes shut.

  “Sarah?”

  She ignored him and bustled past, letting Ruth guide her to the door.

  “Hello, Dawn,” said Ruth.

  Sarah opened her eyes to see her mother entering the shop. She looked worried.

  “Is she going to be alright? That cut?”

  Sarah’s fingers went to the dressing on her forehead. She could feel Martin’s stare behind her. Did her mother know who he was?

  “She’ll be fine,” said Ruth. “Just a surface wound.”

  “Are you coming home then, love?”

  Sarah nodded. She felt the air shift behind her. Martin cleared his throat.