Authors: James Dawson
Ryan tried to focus on the task in hand. He realised that the hardy built-in barbecue on the top terrace would be the ideal place to burn Rox’s stuff. He tipped the bag upside down and
shook the contents onto the paving slabs. Roxanne had been travelling pretty light: one pair of jeans, two pairs of jean shorts, sandals, a light cotton dress and some very skimpy underwear. On a
positive note, it was a surprise she’d bothered with underwear at all. A heavy toiletry bag hit the ground with a thud and that was it.
Ryan rifled through the numerous pockets. He found headphones, a purse, a collection of weird and wonderful-looking currency and then he hit the jackpot: his old mobile handset. Clearly it had
travelled from him to Janey and then on to Roxanne. He guessed Janey must have been feeling charitable when she upgraded; Roxanne had always had less money than the rest of them. That explained one
mystery.
Ryan wondered if Janey had ever gone through the videos on the phone. He allowed himself to smile. As bad as it was for Greg, he wished he could have been a fly on the wall when Rox had first
seen him and Greg on tape in the Cole family caravan.
He could almost hear Roxanne’s screech of horror, followed by her cackle of delight. It made him sad. He was never going to hear that filthy laugh ever again. And there it was! The sadness
had finally found him.
Wait a second. Little Tetris pieces fell into place to form a grim picture. Janey and Roxanne. The thing they had in common was this phone. One phone with one incriminating video. Had Greg known
about it the whole time? A whole flock of
what ifs
screeched around like ravens.
What if
Greg had killed Janey to get at the phone?
What if
he’d come away empty
handed and then killed Rox to finish the job? Ryan closed his eyes.
I’m in love with a serial killer.
He had to forget the idea.
Remember it’s all a plotline. None of
it’s real,
he told himself. Because if that were the case, there was only one person left in the whole world who knew about the affair: Ryan himself. That put him on the endangered list,
to say the least.
A message on the wall from Shakespeare, though? That so wasn’t Greg’s style. Ryan would be amazed if Greg could even spell ‘Shakespeare’ correctly. That didn’t mean
he hadn’t hurt the girls, though. He’d hurt Katie last night.
He banished the thoughts. Greg had never hurt him and never would. With a sigh, Ryan switched the handset on. The battery was almost gone, but there was enough juice to discover it was password
locked. He tried Rox’s year of birth with no luck. He tried her birthday with similar lack of success. In a last-ditch attempt he even tried four zeros, one, two, three, four and his old
password, but it was no use.
The only record of the good times he’d shared with Greg Cole had died with Roxanne Dent.
A
sumptuous wind rolled in off the sea, kissing Alisha’s face. Good thing, too. In the moments when the breeze died, it was too hot to bear,
like being under a grill. She allowed herself only minute sips of water, knowing she and Ben had an immense trek ahead.
They walked away from the jetty. Katie and Greg were headed south towards Zahara de los Atunes, so they chose to head north towards Barbate. The sand was too hot to walk on, so she and Ben stuck
to the cool, hard-packed wet sand, allowing the fizzing surf to run over their toes.
In other circumstances a walk through the surf with Ben Murdoch would be desirable, even romantic. You see it all the time on the TV adverts for travel companies – a gorgeous couple
walking hand in hand through the white foam while some cheesy love song plays. But Alisha didn’t dare appreciate it for a second; it would seem totally wrong. Still, she was secretly thrilled
she’d been paired with Ben.
It was weird to think this was the same sea that now concealed Roxanne’s body. In the light of day it looked so innocent, so safe.
‘Do you think we’ll find her?’ Ben spoke first and Alisha was glad. For some reason, after their search of the cellar, she felt awkward around him. It was as though, now
she’d noticed how hot Ben was, she couldn’t
stop
noticing it.
‘I hope so,’ she replied, realising she was so tense her throat hurt a little. ‘I really hope so. I mean, why Erin? She wouldn’t say boo to a goose.’
‘Exactly. She had nothing to do with anything,’ Ben said. ‘At least, I don’t think she did.’
‘Maybe she just got in someone’s way,’ Alisha suggested. Man, that was a bleak thought. ‘Or maybe she just did a runner. She was having a full-scale meltdown last night.
After what my darling brother did, I can’t say I blame her really.’
‘There’s no one up ahead for miles, Lish.’
Alisha used her hand as a visor. ‘I know, but we have to look. Maybe she went for a swim.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘No,’ Alisha admitted sadly.
‘I think she’s dead.’ He wasn’t trying to be sensational, he was just being real. That was Ben Murdoch. Alisha stopped and looked up at him. There was nothing she could
say so she took his hand instead and said nothing. She didn’t need to. He understood and pulled her in tight, sealing her inside his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head and she
felt at peace for the first time in a year.
All of a sudden, things didn’t seem very fair. She hadn’t asked for any of this and she certainly hadn’t killed anyone. After a year of purgatory in Telscombe Cliffs, all
she’d wanted was a bit of fun in the sun with her old school friends. ‘Come with me.’ She dragged Ben diagonally across the sand.
‘What are you doing?’ Ben trotted to keep up.
‘Wait and see!’ They ran the way children run – all arms and legs. Alisha led him to the top of the hill at the end of the beach. Then she threw her arms out as if presenting
the view. The other side of the slope opened out into sand dunes like craters on the moon. She and Ryan had discovered them on the first day while hunting for a location for their photoshoot.
‘Come on!’ Alisha cried. ‘It’s fun.’
She charged down the first hill, the momentum propelling her straight up the next incline. Wind rushed around her, transporting her back in time. She was twelve again – on a family holiday
to Tunisia, playing hide and seek with Greg in the dunes.
‘We’re meant to be looking for Erin!’ Ben called after her.
‘Bet you can’t catch me!’ was Alisha’s response. She felt alive. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so lightweight and free. Not since
she was about twelve – before all the high-school drama had kicked in, before Callum, before she’d first tasted whisky or vodka. She’d spent so much time trying to prove to the
world how grown-up she was, she’d forgotten how much fun it was to be young.
Roxanne, Janey, Erin. For the next hour, she wanted nothing more to do with any of them.
A smile broke out on Ben’s face and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. ‘Bet I can.’ He set off after her. Alisha screamed and followed the curve of the next
dune. Behind her, Ben’s feet skidded in the sand and he slid all the way down the slope on his bottom. Alisha doubled up with laughter. The look on his face was priceless.
‘Oh, now you’re in trouble,’ he yelled. He landed back on his feet and pursued her.
With a whoop, Alisha powered up the next hill and looked for a hiding place. Marram grass swayed with the wind and would make for good cover. The brow of the next dune was particularly grassy so
she sprinted for that. She almost didn’t notice Ben reach out and grab for her back. Squealing, she ducked out of the way and rolled down the dune, the sand talcum-powder-soft and warm on her
bare arms and legs. She had just about made it to her feet again when Ben slid right alongside her, seemingly riding the sand.
He barrelled into her and wrestled her off her feet. Alisha could hardly breathe for laughing. His arms were around her waist and he snuck in a tickle to the ribs for good measure.
‘Get off me!’ she laughed, tears running down her face.
‘No! Got ya!’ He grinned. He pushed the hair off her face and she felt the weight of his body on top of hers. It felt
right
somehow.
Their lips were so close together it seemed inevitable. Like magnets pulling each other together. He leaned in to kiss her and she felt nervous. It had been a while. What if she couldn’t
remember how to do it? What if there was some cool new way of doing it that no one had told her about? For the first time in a really long time,
this
kiss mattered.
She needn’t have worried. Ben’s lips were soft, warm and perfect against hers and suddenly she knew just what to do. She hooked her hands around the back of his head, pulling him in
closer. Hip to hip. He kissed her harder and something dormant awoke inside her.
Desire.
She’d almost forgotten how it felt. It was like a carnival running through her veins.
Alisha felt intensely aware of every inch of her skin, of Ben’s hands on her sides, of the fact that she was wearing only a bikini top and shorts. Instead of feeling vulnerable and
exposed, though, she felt safe and calm in Ben’s arms and, when his fingers traced the soft skin of her waist, she shivered, and in a totally good way.
The sun beat down on her and it was so, so easy to imagine that this was heaven.
Only then the voices started to bleed into her head, reminding her of everything she’d been trying to forget and draining the electricity from Ben’s fingers. ‘Ben, stop,’
she whispered.
‘Are you OK?’ He stopped at once, rearing back to look down at her. His legs were entwined with hers in the powdery sand.
‘I’m fine.’ She brushed sand from his cheek. ‘But this is really bad . . . I mean, we’re meant to be looking for Erin, and what about Katie? She would kill me if
she knew . . .’ She pushed him back and Ben rolled off her, sitting upright in the sand.
He nodded, ruffling his hair. ‘God, Lish, I’m sorry. I got carried away.’
‘No.’ She sat close alongside him. ‘Don’t apologise.
That
was perfect. It felt like I’d been waiting a really long time for that.’
‘Worth the wait?’
‘Oh, yes!’ Alisha announced way too loudly. She blushed. So uncool.
‘I knew you’d be a good kisser. It’s all about the lips.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been thinking about my lips?’
Ben beamed. ‘I’m a guy with eyes. Of
course
I’ve been thinking about you. You must know you’re insanely hot, Alisha.’
The sun got about a hundred degrees hotter and her face blazed. ‘Shut up.’
‘It’s true.’
Alisha rubbed her eyes, making vivid mauve clouds swim under her eyelids. ‘But what about Katie? And Janey?’ She looked him in the eye. ‘Are you just the biggest manwhore
ever?’
He laughed. ‘Oh, God, how do I answer that? I guess I didn’t really
see
you until it was too late. By the time Katie and I broke up, you were with Callum. And I didn’t
think you . . . saw
me
like that. I had a hunch you thought I was just Greg’s massively nerdy mate.’
‘Well, I did!’ Alisha giggled. ‘It took me a while to realise there was more to you than that.’
A moment of silence followed. Gulls squawked and the waves sighed beyond the dunes. ‘Katie and I are over,’ Ben said at last. ‘We were over a long time ago. It’s why we
broke up. We realised we were best friends and nothing more.’
‘But the other night . . . on the beach?’
‘Oh, what, that? We needed to talk. We had a lot to catch up on and she needed a friend. I will always love Katie; she was my first girlfriend, but I’m not in love with
her.’
‘Childhood sweethearts . . .’ Alisha mused.
‘. . . don’t always wind up together,’ Ben finished for her. ‘Real life isn’t like TV.’
Alisha’s head spun. She had just kissed Ben Murdoch. She didn’t keep a diary, but if she did, tonight’s entry would be a bumper edition, featuring a lengthy and highly florid
account of every minute detail, from the feel of his lips against hers to the ecstasy of his touch. ‘OK, but why did you get with Janey?’ she asked.
And the temperature dropped as quickly as it had risen. Ben’s gaze fell and he looked awkwardly into the sand. ‘You were
still
with Callum,’ he said quietly.
Alisha was confused. Did he really like her, or was she just the last one of the gang left? Her gut told her that Ben Murdoch was about as far away from being a ‘player’ as you could
get. Maybe it really had been just a case of bad timing.
Either way, this was more bad timing. Alisha clambered to her feet. ‘Come on. We need to look for Erin.’
Ben rose. ‘Are you sure we’re cool, Alisha? I don’t wanna give you the wrong idea. I really do—’
Alisha cut him off. ‘Ben, it’s fine. We were both caught in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything.’ She always had been a bull in a china shop, and saying those lies
smashed her heart to smithereens, but she couldn’t and
wouldn’t
do to Katie what Rox had done to her.
From the look on Ben’s face, she’d just drop-kicked his heart all the way down the beach. She led the way out of the crater. This was for the best.
A
black, toxic column of smoke curled away from the villa into the sky. Ryan coughed back the noxious fumes and hurled Roxanne’s towel onto
the fire. The idea to barbecue the dead girl’s belongings had seemed like a good one at first, but he was starting to suspect he could well be sending a smoke signal to the police.
He couldn’t bring himself to burn the phone. He didn’t want to let go of the video even if he couldn’t watch it.
Tyres crunched down the drive at the top of the villa. Ryan frowned – he hadn’t been expecting anyone back so soon. He heard voices drift around the side of the building, but
couldn’t tell if there were two or three people. He hoped for three. The front door slammed shut as he headed through the terrace doors. A few moments later, Greg plodded down the stairs,
shoulders hunched, with Katie close behind. Erin’s absence spoke for itself.