Now That You've Gone (A Beatrice Barrington Thriller Book 2) by Fiona Gartland

Author:Fiona Gartland [Gartland, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: suspense, Detective, mystery, thriller, police procedural, Kindle unlimited, bestselling Author
ISBN: 9781781997956
Publisher: Poolbeg Press
Published: 2019-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

“I can hear you.”

“Can you talk to me, just for a while?” Her voice sounded slurred.

“Of course, are you all right? Where are you?”

“I’m on the beach.”

“What? Where?”

“Just near the cottage, you know, Seafield Cottage.”

“Where are the children?” I was aware of a slight, anxious sensation in my stomach. What was she doing there? What was she about to do?

“In the house, Emma’s there.”

“Okay, and you’re on the beach. Is it raining?”

“A bit.”

I thought I could hear waves crashing now against rocks. I wondered how close Georgina was to the water’s edge.

“Would you not go inside? It must be very cold.”

There was no response.

“Georgina?”

We’d arrived at my house. I handed over the fare, fished my car key out of my bag and stepped out of the taxi.

“Thanks.”

“What?”

“Not you, the driver. Never mind. You said you wanted to talk to me.”

“No one understands.”

“What? What don’t they understand?”

“It was all a mess anyway.”

“What was?” I got into my car and threw my bag into the passenger footwell.

“Before, it was a mess before he got himself dead, Beatrice.” She began to sob. “He – we – it wasn’t right anymore. I couldn’t trust him.”

“What do you mean, Georgina?” I started the engine, put the phone on speaker and turned the car toward the city.

“Did you ever see an apple? And it’s all red and shiny and you bite in and it tastes great. Did you?”

“An apple? Yes.” I signalled right to head for the East-Link Bridge. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“And then you take another bite and there’s a little brown maggot in there. That’s what it was like. There was rot hidden in it.”

It seemed to me that the sound of the waves on the phone had got closer.

“Where are you now, Georgina?”

“The sea is lovely, isn’t it? Have you ever seen it at night? It goes on forever.”

“It’s very cold, though.” There was silence for a few moments. “Georgina?”

“They say you don’t notice the cold after a while.”

I was on Strand Road. The traffic was light and the rain had stopped. To my left, I could see the tide was in and the waves were white-topped. Killiney Hill was spotted with lights and beyond that I could see the shape of Bray Head. It would take at least an hour to get to Ballymoney.

“I’d love a cup of tea, Georgina.”

“What?”

“I’m cold. I’d love a cup of tea. Do you mind if I call in?”

“But you’re in Dublin.”

“No, no, I’m not far from you now, I’m on my way. Would you put the kettle on?” I could hear breathing on the other end of the line.

“I don’t want to go back inside.”

I tried to picture the little beach in my head, the curve of rocks around it, the path leading back to the road and Georgina’s house. Wasn’t there a bench somewhere, set back a little from the beach?

“Don’t so, don’t go back. I’ll meet you on the bench – you know, the green bench. Turn around – can you see it there?”

“Yes.

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