Four elephants.
Five elephants.
Six elephants.
He had hit the water.
She went online months ago and found out how long it took. Easy enough to get an answer. Falling from a forty-five-metre bridge took approximately 5.6 seconds. Less than six elephants.
What went through his mind? Happy and serene as he plummeted through the air, or full of regret? Panic and terror, or his mind still racing with all the clutter and debris that we each carry around with us? Maybe he passed out, pissed or shat himself, screamed until his throat was torn.
She looked out over the firth and breathed. Put a hand against the railing to steady herself as a gust of wind swept up the walkway.
She looked at her phone, swiped off Videos, opened Facebook, went to his page. Two messages since last time, both girls, just kisses and hearts. Girls were better at that than boys, better at remembering, not caring about looking soft. She didn’t recognise either of the girls who’d posted. That was Logan’s world, not hers. They had the same world to begin with, but we all make our own worlds as we grow up, create our own universes, propagate our way through the madness alone.
She typed quickly:
Miss you more every day. Love you always. Mum xxx
It was pathetic and insignificant and inadequate.
She stared at the words for a few seconds then typed Sam’s name into the search box, clicked through. Checked his page for messages then flicked through his pictures. Zoomed in on a few. He had a cute smile, beautiful eyes that he hid behind that fringe. He would be a handsome man someday soon.
Ellie put her phone away and strode off the bridge. It was time for action.
31
The marina was quiet. After the roar of the bridge Ellie always felt an emptiness, a vacuum in her waiting to be filled. She walked past the Bosun’s Locker, not open yet, then Karinka’s Kitchen, no one inside. The door to the sailing clubhouse was padlocked, and the only place she spied activity was in the coastguard Portakabin where a guy was hanging up his bulky jacket, starting his shift.
She pictured Ben back in bed. She liked being up and about while he slept, enjoyed being awake before the world, something about the isolation gave her power, a subtle authority. She imagined Sam and Libby in the boat, still wrapped in bedcovers, maybe just coming round. She tried to picture Jack and Alison at Inchcolm Terrace. Had Alison believed anything Ellie told her? If so, surely she couldn’t share a bed with him. Or maybe she’d ignored the accusations, put them to the back of her mind. Maybe she’d brought it up but Jack had talked her round. He was persuasive, Ellie knew that from the car yesterday, he could make you feel sorry for him, as if he was the victim. She was glad she went straight to Sam and Libby afterwards. The look on Libby’s face wiped away any sympathy she might’ve had for Jack, any doubt she harboured about what had happened.
She was at the gate to the pier now. Keyed in her number, Logan’s birthday, reminders everywhere. The door clicked open and she walked down the steps. She wasn’t looking forward to today. Libby would have it tough, but Ellie would be there, support her. She wouldn’t let any harm come to Libby or Sam.
She made her way along the pontoon, the ebb of the waves making it rock underfoot. The wind was stronger at sea level, a westerly straight down the Forth into her face as she walked, twenty knots maybe. Decent sailing weather, as long as it didn’t get any stronger.
She got to the Porpoise. No sign of activity on deck. There was one old-timer on his dinghy further up the pontoon, someone Ellie knew to say hello to, and she nodded and raised a hand in reply to his greeting.
She pulled the painter rope attached to the bow, the boat nudged against the pontoon and she stepped on board. Over the secured rigging and round to the door of the cabin. The door was slid back, the two of them must be up and about inside.
Ellie started down the stairs.
‘Morning,’ she said. A flash of memory came to her, shouting into Logan’s room as he lay under his covers, motionless. Time to get up for school and all that.
Ellie reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped.
Three people were staring at her.
Sam, Libby and Jack.
‘Hello, Ellie,’ Jack said. He had his hands out in supplication, almost pleading.
Ellie looked from him to Libby, who was cowering on the edge of the bench. Sam was standing between Jack and Libby. The four of them now in the cabin made it cramped, the air thick.
‘Get out,’ Ellie said.
Jack shook his head. ‘I just want to talk to my kids.’
He put one hand to his stomach, pulled his face into a grimace.
‘They don’t want to talk to you,’ Ellie said. ‘Get off my boat.’
‘They’re my kids,’ Jack said. ‘Of course they want to talk to me. This is all a misunderstanding.’
Sam had his hands tense at his sides. ‘You heard her, get the fuck out of here.’
Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t talk to me like that, please.’ His voice was level, quiet.
‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ Sam said. ‘I can’t believe you have the nerve to look either of us in the eye after what you did.’
‘I haven’t done anything,’ Jack said. ‘Ask Libby.’
He turned to her. She was like a turtle trying to duck inside its shell, her legs pulled up tight, shoulders hunched, head turned to the side.
‘She’s scared to death of you,’ Sam said. ‘Leave us alone.’
‘I can’t do that,’ Jack said. ‘You’re my kids.’
‘We don’t want anything to do with you,’ Sam said.
Jack turned to Ellie, pleading. ‘Can’t you speak to them?’
Ellie took a step forward. ‘Why should I?’
‘This is all a mistake.’ Jack’s voice wavered now, breaking up. It looked like he might start crying. He took a step towards Libby. ‘Lib, come home with your dad, please. It’ll all be fine, I promise.’
Sam moved closer to Jack. ‘Get the hell out of here.’
‘How did you find us?’ Libby said.
The sound of her voice made everyone pause.
Jack looked round the cabin, like a quiz show contestant searching for the right answer.
‘I’m a police officer, honey,’ he said. ‘It’s my job to find out things. I discovered Ellie had a boat. As soon as it was light I came down, on the off chance. I got lucky.’
‘Unlucky for us,’ Sam said.
Jack reached out to him but Sam batted the hand away. ‘Sam, I know you’ve had problems.’
Sam shook his head. ‘Don’t turn this round, this isn’t about me.’
Jack was still talking. ‘I know you’ve heard voices, been depressed, tried to kill yourself.’
Libby sat forward. ‘What?’
‘Three times, Lib, that we know of.’
‘You mean apart from the bridge?’ Libby said.
Jack looked puzzled. ‘What happened on the bridge?’ He turned to Ellie, a look coming across his face. ‘That’s where you met him. He was going to jump. I bet it was the morning he stabbed me.’
‘I can’t believe I didn’t finish the job,’ Sam said through his teeth.
Jack was still staring at Ellie. ‘You see how unstable he is? How he talks?’ He turned to Sam. ‘Son, it’s OK, we can get you help. I haven’t told the police about the stabbing, I said I couldn’t remember.’
Sam shook his head. ‘That’s only so they don’t find out why I did it.’
‘That’s not true, nothing happened.’ Jack looked at his daughter. ‘Tell them, Lib.’
She didn’t speak. She cowered back, trying to squeeze her body into the crevice at the side of the cabin.
Jack took a step forward. He could almost reach out and touch her. Sam intervened, put a hand on his dad’s chest. Jack looked at the hand, then at Sam’s face.
‘Don’t,’ he said.
‘Or what?’
Jack’s eyes were welling up. ‘I just want my family back.’ A crack in his voice.