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Lucy Bell was a particularly heartrending case. She’d been taken from a squat in the northwest because her mother had been too spaced out on drugs to care for her most of the time. Left to fend for herself, she’d had little communication with others, and according to her social workers, she’d lived off scraps and leftovers and was rarely washed or dressed properly. Kat worked with her most days, just trying to get her to communicate, and this morning Lucy had smiled for the first time ever when Kat walked into the room. It felt like a breakthrough.
“Hey, Lucy,” Kat called. “Want to play a question game with me and Aaron?”
Lucy looked up from the pile of colored blocks she was playing with and nodded, her big blue eyes shining. “I like Aaron,” she said.
“And he likes you, too, Lucy,” Kat told her. “We all do. Now, who wants to be first?” Aaron put up his hand. “Okay, Aaron, what’s your first question?”
Aaron looked at Lucy for a moment; he knew this game well. “Which toy do you like best?” he asked.
“I like my dolly,” Lucy said, cuddling her lifelike baby doll close against her chest.
“Your turn, Lucy,” Kat said.
Lucy frowned. “Where’s your mummy?” she asked Aaron.
“She’s in heaven with the angels,” he replied, unfazed.
“My mummy’s sick,” Lucy told him. “That’s why they’re looking after me here.”
“Let’s play building,” Aaron suggested.
“We’ll use the blocks,” Lucy responded. “Come on. We could make dolly a house.”
Watching the children interact and develop confidence and positive social skills made everything worthwhile for Kat and reconfirmed why she loved her job so much. Spending time with the kids—talking to them, playing games and encouraging them to engage in the world around them—was how she spent most of her sessions. Her goal was to get to know each of them: what they liked, what made them laugh...and what made them cry. That was the hard part. Some of the kids had had such a hard time in their short lives that it made her mess of a childhood seem almost charmed.
When the session finished and the children went off to their classroom, Kat spent a few minutes tidying up the toys. Later this afternoon she was taking the six-to-ten group, and colored blocks weren’t as useful in getting them to open up.
Before that session, she wanted to give Ben a book about the sea she’d been promising to lend him; hopefully the book would capture his imagination and give him something to talk about. In one-on-one counseling he tended to be withdrawn and sulky, which she attributed to him having seen so many well-meaning social workers and therapists over the past few months. On the other hand, he’d been full of energy during the more informal sea sessions, winding up the other kids and causing trouble, but laughing, too.
Kat’s heart ached for him. It was clear to her that Ben just didn’t know who he was. His whole life had been turned on its head, and it probably seemed like everyone he thought he could believe in had let him down. Not to mention his dad’s appearance after nine years of silence. It would be hard for Ben to learn to trust again, and building a relationship with Luke was going to take a lot of forgiveness.
She glanced at her watch; he’d be out of class any minute. Kat grabbed the book and headed over to the new, chalet-style classrooms across the grounds, arriving just as the doors burst open. A stream of children came running out, but she couldn’t see Ben. When the crowd of kids had thinned and he still hadn’t appeared, she walked up the steps and in through the half-open door. Mrs. Selby, the math teacher, was standing by her desk, her cheeks flushed with anger, while Ben glared up at her. Kat noted his closed expression, which was more concerning than a tantrum or display of anger.
“What’s the matter, Mrs. Selby?” she asked.
Chris Selby turned her attention away from the boy, bristling with indignation. “It appears that Ben does not like math and he’s flatly refused to do any work at all today. All he has done is scribble all over his textbook. I’ve told him to take his workbook with him and finish his arithmetic questions before tomorrow. You can go now, Ben.”
Ben stood still, staring into space. “I said you can go,” she repeated.
When Ben ignored her, Kat stepped in. “I can deal with this if you like, Chris. I’ve brought him a book he wanted to borrow. I’ll make sure that he does his math—don’t worry.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. You get off to your next lesson.”
After Chris left, Kat turned to Ben. “Now, what was all that about?”
“I hate math and I hate her,” he mumbled without looking up.
“Mrs. Selby just wants you to do well, Ben. And if you’re really struggling with math then perhaps I can have a chat with Mr. Ellison about getting you some extra help.”
“Don’t want extra help. Don’t want to do it at all.”
“Well, if you grow up not even knowing how to multiply and divide, you’re not going to get very far. Anyway, let’s not worry about that right now. Come on—it’s a lovely day and you have a break now, so why don’t we go out into the garden and I’ll show you the book I’ve brought.”
Ben followed Kat outside, dragging his feet.
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, gesturing at the smooth green lawn spread out before them like a large patch of velvet surrounded by a vivid splash of colorful blooms carefully nurtured by Ned, the groundskeeper. “Don’t you think it’s a beautiful garden?” she asked Ben.
“We used to have a nice garden,” he responded quietly.
Ben had never mentioned his life before Flight to her. Kat crafted her response carefully. “If it was as nice as this one, you must have been very lucky.”
“Granddad used to do it.” Ben’s voice sounded wobbly. “He loved gardens. I helped him.”
“Your granddad must be a very nice and very clever man.”
“He used to be,” muttered Ben, grabbing the heads of some big red flowers and ripping them off.
“Ben!” cried Kat as he threw them onto the lawn. “Don’t do that.”
Ben looked at her then took off at a run, trampling the flower beds and darting in and out of the trees. Kat followed at a distance, keeping an eye on him but letting the boy let off steam.
Kat had never heard him mention his granddad’s illness before, and his condition obviously bothered Ben much more than she’d realized. She knew Mollie had to spend all her time caring for her husband, but it was more than a lack of attention from his grandmother that seemed to be at the root of Ben’s problems.
Like a lot of troubled children, Ben was far more sensitive than he let on. He was very susceptible to nature; she’d seen it in the sea sessions and again today when he’d finally let out some of his feelings in the garden. She would have to harness that sensitivity to find out more about his situation and help him regain some kind of balance.
Eventually, Ben made his way into the main house for lunch, so Kat headed to Mike’s office, hoping to get more details about Ben’s past.
“Hi,” Mike said, glancing up from some paperwork. “I could do with a distraction.”
“Not going to give me a hard time today?” she said, smiling.
“Look,” he responded, putting down his pen, “I know you’re totally professional and I believe in you and your methods—that’s why you’re here. You have to see my point of view, though. Luke is, understandably, in a strange place right now. The son no one knew about has turned up on his doorstep and he doesn’t quite know how to deal with it. You’ll probably say that he should have been in the boy’s life from the start but—”
“Of course he should,” Kat interrupted.
Mike shook his head. “No one’s perfect. Have you always done everything right in your life?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’ve made lots of mistakes in my life already.”
“Well, there you go, then,” he said. “All I ask is that you and Luke make an effort to get along for Ben’s sake. Or at least make an effort when he’s around.”
“Ben is the one who matters in all this,” she agreed. “By the way, while we’re on the subject, do you know anything about Ben’s background, anything about his granddad’s illness, perhaps, that might help me understand him better?”
“To be honest, our information is much briefer than I’d like,” Mike said. “You know as much as I do. Mollie and Jim Jackson brought him up while his mum, Carly, went back to finish her studies. When she was killed in a car crash a few months ago, I can only presume their grief and loss turned their lives upside down. Grief can change your whole world in an instant, completely uproot your perceptions, priorities and ambitions.
“Ben must have been, or felt, neglected by his grandparents. He’d lost his mother suddenly and then he lost the attention of his grandmother. He reacted by becoming withdrawn and lashing out when he was put under pressure, according to his social worker.”
“But what about Luke?” asked Kat. “Why didn’t he step in when his ex-wife died?”
Mike shrugged. “Who knows... Maybe no one told him he had a son. Or no one told him what had happened to Carly.”
Kat shot him a skeptical look.
Mike raised his hand. “Obviously I’m biased. I’m fond of Luke, I’ve known him a long time and I trust him. What’s important now is that he and his son develop a stable relationship—for Ben’s sake. Our job is to help them.”
“And I want to, but Luke and I have such different opinions on what matters. He seems to think discipline is the key to everything, but he’s wrong. Chris tried to discipline Ben earlier in her math class, and he just retreated even deeper into his shell. Love and stability are what counts.”
“Maybe that’s just what Luke knows, or what he experienced growing up. Perhaps he had a heavily disciplined childhood. I’m not saying his approach is right or wrong, but he’s not a therapist. I’m hoping you’ll be more open to his parenting style, Kat, but you are the expert. And I support you in that. Just keep in mind that Ben is the priority.”
Kat nodded. “Do you know what’s wrong with Ben’s granddad?” she asked, changing the subject. “I have a hunch that his condition has something to do with this.”
“Well, no,” Mike admitted. “I know he’s quite unwell, but I didn’t think the reason why was an issue.”
Kat shrugged. “It may not be... It’s just something Ben said. Perhaps I could meet up with his grandmother, have an informal chat.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Mike said. “If you promise me that you’ll make an effort with Luke.”
CHAPTER SIX
KAT PULLED THE keys for Number Three Cove Cottages from her pocket, her fingers shaking with excitement. The key ring had a metal fish attached to it, and it shone in the sunshine. As she approached the front door, she glanced behind her, sensing someone watching. But she didn’t see a soul and was met with silence. It wasn’t silent at all, though, she realized. Jenny Brown’s Bay was lonely and beautiful and bleak, perhaps, but never, ever silent.
The waves crashed onto the shore, rushing back out into the sparkling sea in a fizz of foam. The wind moaned softly, bringing with it a salty tang that lingered on her lips, and the cry of seagulls rose into the clear blue sky. She turned back to the red door.
Ted, the old man who had given her the keys, had talked a lot about her landlady, Elsa May Malone Evans. He thought very highly of her and Bryn, and of their daughter, Emma, but Kat got the impression that he hadn’t had much to do with Mick, their little boy. The history of the place intrigued her, and she longed to know more about the Evanses and what they’d done in Jenny Brown’s Bay.
She pushed the door open and stepped into her new home, her body alive with excitement. Light filled the whole house, beaming in through the front windows. She liked that; it felt as if the house and the glorious, endless sea and sky were one. In Sandston, she had lived right on the shore, too, but the cottage had been dark and sad, or at least that was how she remembered it.
She placed her bags on the wood floor and walked through to the small but cozy kitchen. It smelled faintly of food and...paint, that was it. Elsa had mentioned that her husband was an artist. She stepped back into the hallway to study a painting she’d passed on her way in; a man throwing a stick for a yellow dog way out on the shore, and a woman with an abundance of wild, gold-streaked hair walking toward him, waving. The sea and the sky looked so real Kat could almost hear the waves. Something about the scene made her heart fill up. It seemed so full of love and yet sad, too.
She looked at the signature in the bottom right corner: Bryn Evans. So this was one of his pieces. That must be him, too, playing with the dog...and was that Elsa? The woman’s hair seemed to glint and glimmer as if it was real.
Smiling, Kat went back and carried her bags to the kitchen and started to unpack them.
Kat spent the morning trying to make the cottage her own by putting up a few pictures and carefully positioning the bright cushions she’d bought online on the well-used leather sofa. She arranged flowers in all the downstairs windows and made up her bed, too, with her pretty new sheets and duvet, and filled the fridge and cupboards with the items she’d bought in the village shop.
With a satisfied sigh, she cut a large piece of the freshly baked cake Alice had given her and sat down at the kitchen table feeling as if she was finally home.
She’d asked for the day off to move in to her new home, but she’d scheduled a sea-therapy course in the early evening. She hoped to run it right here on the shore. Only three children would participate, which was a bonus: Ben, Tammy and Millie, a withdrawn ten-year-old girl who would be attending her first sea session.
After lunch, Kat intended to wander along the shoreline in search of interesting items to inspire and captivate the children, particularly Ben. At least when he’d tried to several days ago, he’d laughed and shown some emotion other than the sulky attitude he so often adopted. And he’d taken hold of her hand; that had felt like a real breakthrough.
After she’d talked to Mike yesterday she’d thought a lot about the way Ben had behaved, ripping the heads off the flowers. That had revealed a deep anger, and she was sure that it stemmed from his relationship with his granddad. Whatever the cause, she had to try to understand what was going on in Ben’s head if she was to help him come to terms with it and move on.
The shingle crunched beneath her feet as she followed the waterline. Higher up the beach was the trail of flotsam and jetsam left by the tide. That would be a good place to start searching for something to spark the children’s imaginations.
Her search proved surprisingly successful as she came across a toy sailboat tangled up in the seaweed, several glass bottles, a shoe and even some pieces of pottery. With a satisfied smile, she headed back to the cottage. She’d enjoy showing the children her new home and she’d give them each a piece of Alice’s cake at the end of the session.
Kat set off for Flight just before five. She was due to collect the children at six, but wanted to catch up with Mike first to see if he’d thought any more about her meeting up with Mollie Jackson. She approached the house with a lingering sadness. She’d enjoyed living here for the last few weeks, right in the hub of things; maybe she should have stayed a bit longer. But she hadn’t wanted to miss the chance to rent the cottage on Cove Road. It was the perfect home.
With her mind full of ideas for the sea session, she ran up the steps and in through the huge front door. Turning right as she entered the hall, she collided with someone, lost her balance and staggered back in confusion, breathing in the spicy scent of a man’s cologne. A strong hand grabbed hold of her arm.
“You!” she gasped, looking up to meet Luke’s warm brown eyes. They sparkled with humor as she tried to pull away.
“You just can’t stay away from me, can you?” He laughed. “Joke,” he added when she stared at him in horror.
Kat put a hand to her face, embarrassed by the heat flooding into it, and he dropped her arm as if it was burning his hand.
“It’s okay,” he told her, stepping back. His tone was brusque and businesslike. “No harm done. Not to me, at least. Tell you what—you can make amends by letting me sit in on your therapy session tonight. I’m prepared to give it another shot if you are.”
“No, I...” How dare he even suggest it after the way he’d acted last time? Nothing had changed; her methods obviously weren’t up to his standards then and they wouldn’t be now.
Noting her reluctance, he smiled awkwardly. “It’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I promise not to interfere, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried. Do what you like. I need to go see Mike first and grab a bite. Then I’m picking the children up.”
“What time?”
She hesitated. “Just after six,” she finally said, feeling guilty about stretching the truth.
The guilt still niggled when she met up with the three children in the dining room at six and Luke hadn’t arrived. It was his own fault, though, she told herself; he was the one who’d caused the problem. And she needed to have Ben to herself if her therapy was to have a chance of success. He’d never let down his guard if his dad was there, watching his every move with his misplaced, overprotective attitude. That day in the sea was the first and only time Kat had seen Ben relaxed and having fun, even if he was trying to wind her up. After Luke had interfered, he’d switched himself right off again.
“Are we really going to the seaside again?” Tammy asked eagerly.
Kat tousled her hair. It was hard not to tousle Tammy’s mass of bright red curls. “Not only that,” she told her, “you’re going to come see my new house and have cake.”
The little girl’s brilliant blue eyes were as wide as saucers. “By the sea? You really live right by the sea?”
Kat nodded. “Nearly on the shore.”
“Are we all having cake?” Ben asked, butting in.
His gruff little voice hid a hint of excitement and Kat felt relieved that Luke wasn’t here to spoil it.
“Come on, then,” she said, eager to get going. Tammy grabbed her hand while Ben tried to appear nonchalant, as if he really didn’t care either way. The new addition, Millie, who was quiet and well behaved with short brown hair and a sweet, sad smile, followed in their wake.
As they rounded the corner, leaving the house behind, Kat glanced back. Flight seemed to smile at her, she thought, as if they shared a secret. She suppressed a smile. Luke Travis would think she was quite irresponsible if he knew what sometimes went on in her head. One thing he definitely did not have was an imagination, though she probably had too much of one, if that was possible. Well, she decided, she needed her overactive imagination. Her career depended on it.
“Come on, kids,” she called. “I’ll race you to the path.”
* * *
LUKE GLANCED AT his watch and grimaced. He’d gotten caught up talking to Mike and lost track of time. Apparently, Kat had been pushing him about the animal therapy and she’d also asked for a meeting with Mollie Jackson. He should be the one talking to Mollie; Ben was his son, and Luke was desperate to make things right between them. Somehow he had to make amends for being missing for nine years...if that was even possible.
Reaching the front hall, he looked around for any sign of Kat or the children. It was only ten past six; surely she would have waited a few minutes. By twenty past, he realized he must have missed them. But he wasn’t giving up that easily. Luke strode out into the evening sunshine, deciding he’d go down into the bay and try to catch up with them. Mike had told him about Kat renting one of the cottages right on the shore, so he guessed they’d be headed in that direction.
He jogged down the narrow cliffside path, scanning the wide expanse of sea and sand. The tide was coming in, rushing round the perimeter of the bay. Prickles of alarm ran along his spine. Jenny Brown’s Bay was renowned for being dangerous, and these were the exact conditions that could cause serious problems. Apart from the undercurrents that were capable of dragging even strong swimmers out to sea, there were also quicksands. Kat had been here for only five minutes; did she even realize what could happen? The smooth stretches of sand might look harmless, but they could set around an unsuspecting wader’s feet and legs like concrete...and if the tide came in, they’d be trapped in rising waters. He increased his pace. Where were they?
* * *
KAT HEADED ALONG the shoreline with the children running ahead. When the tide began to rush in, she settled them safely on the rocks to watch.
“It’s called the bore,” she told them. “It’s a wave that rushes around the outside of the bay just as the tide starts coming in. Unsuspecting people who have gone out too far can get trapped by the water on the sandbank in the center.”
Ben looked up with interest. “Will we get caught?”
She shook her head. “No, because we understand the dangers. Eventually the tide will rise, almost to the edge of the track if it’s a high tide. Today, though, it will probably be lower than the flotsam and jetsam that we’re going to look at in a minute.”
“What’s flotsam and jetsam?” Tammy piped up.
Kat gave what she hoped was a mysterious smile. “It’s things cast off from life,” she said. “Things that people have let drift out to sea.”
“What kind of things?” asked Ben, obviously intrigued by the idea. He looked at her with his father’s eyes and her heart tightened. How come Luke Travis always managed to rattle her, even when he wasn’t here?
“Who knows,” she said. “Bottles, perhaps, from the other side of the world, maybe even with messages in them. Or toys or pottery, just objects from people’s lives. You can depend on the sea. It comes in every day and goes out again right on cue. No matter what’s going on in the world, the tides never change. You can depend on lots of things in nature—trees and animals and plants just do what they do, year after year. Grow, blossom, bear fruit...and have babies if they’re animals, of course.”
“Can we see the flotsam and jetsam now?” Ben asked.
“Of course you can.” Kat smiled. “As long as you promise not to try and go for a swim this time.”
“He’s not here this time, though, is he?” Ben said quietly.
For a moment, Kat felt a flicker of sympathy for Luke. He may have done wrong by Ben, but maybe it wasn’t right of her to judge him too harshly. She didn’t know all the details. He was Ben’s dad, after all, and it must hurt to see that the little boy wanted nothing to do with him. “Come on, then,” she urged. “Let’s go see what treasures we can find.”
She watched in delight as the three children searched for treasure among the rubbish and seaweed that made up the flotsam and jetsam. It was Ben who found a bottle; he picked it up carefully, holding it out to catch the rays of the sun. Despite its time spent being battered by the sea, the glass sparkled.
“Where do you think it came from?” he asked her, turning it to and fro.
“Could be anywhere in the whole wide world,” Kat told him. “Spain, perhaps...or France or Scotland.”
They all peered at it with excitement in their eyes, as if expecting the bottle to suddenly reveal its secrets.
“No message,” Ben announced sadly.
“Maybe not,” Kat said. “But it does have a picture on it.”
The sailing ship embossed in the glass immediately caught the imagination of all three children.
“What if it came from a pirate ship?” Ben suggested with awe.
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