Thirteen Days By Sunset Beach Read online

  "I was just about to look," Ray said, peeling open his hip pocket to take out the phone. He shook every drop of water off it before wakening the screen and touching the flashlight icon. While he took care not to swing around too fast the beam trailed across the water. It barely reached the limit of the cave, but he was able to make out a gap several feet wide in the rear wall. No doubt the movement he'd glimpsed there earlier had been a stray reflection that had outlined the gap, appearing to fill it. The light grew more concentrated as it glided towards him over the wall, so that by the time it reached the bobbing object it was a white glare. For just a moment Ray was loath to aim the beam directly at the object—he thought he'd already seen too much and then the light caught it. "Good God," Julian said, and in case this failed to convey his shock "Good God."

  The shape had once been much more human, but now it seemed to sum up age and decay. It looked as withered and contorted as the husk of a spider's victim. The man's head was thrown back as if it had been paralysed in the act of uttering a final cry, which had shrunk the lips back from the teeth in a tortured grimace. The hands might have been lifted to fend off or deny his fate, unless a convulsion had raised them. Although Ray had no means of judging how long the corpse had been in the water, perhaps the immersion went some way towards explaining its state, because the flesh that dangled from its bones resembled perished rubber. He was staring at it in helpless dismay—he felt unable to move the light until he or Julian managed to deduce what had happened to the man—when the corpse winked at him.

  He saw it take a breath as well. No, the reflections of the ripples that were wagging its hands and nodding its withered head were at play among the shadows of its ribs, enlivening the collapsed bare chest as the beam shook in Ray's hand. But the drooping eyelid had certainly stirred, although only because a crab had emerged, bearing off a prize. "Come away, Raymond," Julian said as though rebuking a child. "We've seen quite enough. We need to make sure nobody sees who oughtn't to."

  It took Ray some moments and a good deal of resolution to turn his back on the restless corpse, though he'd looked away quickly from the sight of the crab crawling askew down the ravaged pallid face. Julian was treading water where the cave narrowed. "Will you be all right to make your way out," he said, "while I go and deal with the others?"

  Ray saw this was scarcely a question. As he mumbled a reluctant assent Julian struck out for the sea, and in seconds only his wake remained. Ray kept the flashlight on as far as the exit from the inner cavern, but he didn't want to run the battery down. He switched off the phone and stowed it in his pocket, and was leaving the darkness behind as swiftly as he dared to shuffle through the water when a cluster of ripples caught up with him.

  The corpse hadn't made them. The pallid husk wasn't creeping after him in the dark, teeth bared, hands raised to seize him. In fact, he had a sense that the ripples were coming from the far end of the cavern. Those Julian had sent back must have rebounded there, and they would be the source of the shrill echoes Ray could hear, however much those resembled senile mirth. Just the same, he was glad when the activity subsided, and even more relieved to be able at last to clamber onto the ridge above the water.

  He limped along it, clutching at the wall with both hands, until he could see out of the cave. Julian was standing guard in the waves outside the entrance, and glanced back at him. "Here he is now. As I told you, he's fine."

  Sandra stood up, shading her eyes, though the sun was still behind the clouds. "Be careful on the rocks," she called. "Ray, are you going to tell us what's wrong?"

  "At I've said, the place isn't safe." Julian turned his back on her, perhaps only to face Ray, and waited until he didn't need to raise his voice. "Will you call the authorities, Raymond?"

  "The police, you mean." When Julian frowned and pinched his lips together, Ray said even lower "Do we know their number here?"

  "Look it up," Julian barely pronounced.

  Perhaps the cave had amplified their voices. "Why do you need the police?" Sandra called.

  Julian threw up his hands as if he was flinging all responsibility to her and Ray. "Somebody's drowned," Ray mouthed at her.

  All the family gazed at him, and Sandra's puzzlement overcame her silence. "Down..."

  "Drowned," Even more vigorously Ray mouthed "Dead."

  "Drowned dead, grandad's saying," William informed her.

  "Well, now you know it all, William," his father said, though not only to him, "and I hope you're the better for knowing."

  As the boy looked abashed Ray tried to divert attention away from him. "Does anyone have the number?"

  "One one two will get them," Jonquil said. "It's the number you can call from anywhere."

  "Thank you, Jonquil," Julian said. "That's a good point, Raymond. There's no need to call from here."

  Ray had left the cave by now and was watching his unsteady step on the rocks. "Why, where do you think I should call from?"

  "Not until we're on our way back to the accommodation. It's not as if there can be any urgency. Go and dry yourself and get dressed, William. Jonquil too, please,"

  "It's gran's day," the boy protested. "It's her beach."

  "That's very thoughtful, but your grandmother didn't know what was here. Quickly now, please. I'm sure everybody will be coming with you."

  As William tramped splashily towards the beach, miming enough frustration for several people, Ray said "I wonder if the police mightn't want us to wait here."

  "They certainly aren't going to want William. I'm not disparaging you, son. Who do you suppose they would want, Raymond?"

  "Me, since I found what I found. Maybe you as well, since you saw," Ray said and took out his phone, on which a single bar warned of the barest connection. As the swimmers waded to the beach he typed the emergency number. Listening seemed to draw a shrill whisper out of the cave—the secret chatter of the ripples—and then a woman's voice said something he didn't understand. "Police?" he hoped aloud.

  "This is emergency. Where is it, please?"

  "Vasilema, do you mean?"

  "Stay there." Presumably she was telling him to hold on, which he did for several breaths before a man said "Police."

  "I want to report—" Ray faltered as Julian not merely held up a hand but thrust it at him. "What is it, Julian?"

  Julian kept that to himself until he was close enough to mutter "What made you say the fellow was drowned?"

  "I didn't want to speculate in front of William. Besides, what else—"

  As Julian opened his mouth, the phone provided a voice. "You say someone is drowned."

  "He looked as if he'd been underwater for some time," Ray said and was overtaken by a shudder.

  "Say where that to."

  "He's in a cave by a beach. It's near the only bus stop with a shrine by it, I believe.

  Jonquil's tousled head emerged from the dress she was pulling on. "It's stop number eleven."

  "Well spotted, Jonquil," Ray said and told the phone "Eleven is the closest stop."

  "You are there. At the beach."

  "We're still there, but—What is it now, Julian?"

  "I'll speak," Julian said and leaned towards the phone. "We've a five-year-old boy in our party. You won't want us to loiter, I suppose."

  "What is your name?"

  Ray had to assume this was addressed to him. "Ray Thornton."

  Julian took this to indicate that he could shepherd everybody off the beach. "You can talk while you're walking, Raymond."

  Ray felt as if the official voice had seized him by the ear. "Did you find the victim?"

  "I did, yes," Ray said and tried not to remember the incomplete face.

  "Who else has seen him?"

  "Just the gentleman you were hearing from before."

  As Julian turned the foot of the slope up the cliff to stare at Ray the policeman said "His name."

  "Julian Bank."

  Perhaps just the stare made Ray feel he might regret having said so. "Where do y
ou stay?" the policeman was asking.

  "We're going back there now." When he heard no interdiction Ray said "The Sunny View in Teleftaiafos."

  "How long?"

  "A fortnight." As Ray trudged uphill after Julian he said "Ten days, I mean."

  "Ten days." After a pause that Ray couldn't help finding ominous the man said "What is your number there?"

  "It's my number anywhere." Perhaps he shouldn't have risked a quip, but Ray was distracted by the sight of Tim and Jonquil helping Sandra up the slope, where he could almost have thought they were sharing her energy rather than lending her theirs. "It's a mobile," he said and gave the number.

  "You will be at your apartments if we want you."

  "We'll be out most days. I'll take the phone with me."

  "There are places it will not work."

  Ray waited to be told where, only to realise that the call had been cut off. Presumably this was no fault of the coverage, since the onscreen symbol had turned into three upright stakes. Sandra and the teenagers had reached the cliff top and were putting on speed towards the nearest tree, though they could no longer walk abreast. "That's the spirit," Julian said. "Best foot forward, everyone."

  "I think we've left it far enough behind," Doug said, "what you two saw."

  Ray wondered if his son resented the exclusion, and Pris seemed to think he did. "I shouldn't think anyone would have wanted to see it," she murmured.

  "I'm simply trying to make sure," Julian said, "that nobody misses the bus."

  William dashed through the grass beside the path and was first to the tree. He barely waited for Sandra and the cousins to join him before he sprinted to the next tree while they guzzled water. "Don't go on the road, William," Julian shouted.

  "But if the bus is coming," Doug called, "wave it down."

  Natalie turned on him. "Didn't you hear what his father just said?"

  "No need for the nerves, Nat. All right, I'll catch up with him."

  Ray examined the trees as he passed them. He'd overlooked carvings on those nearest the road, which didn't give the saint's foe any more of a shape. As he waited for Sandra and the teenagers under the last tree but one he saw headlights jittering between the twigs of a hedge beside the road. He thought the police had arrived until a higher stretch of road let him see the bus. William waved a frantic semaphore with both arms while his uncle kept hold of his shoulder, and then the boy jumped on board to detain the bus as the family hurried or trotted or limped along the path. "Thank you, William," Julian said but frowned at Doug for letting go of him.

  As the bus left the stop Ray saw headlamps flash in the driver's mirror beneath yet another icon of St Titus. He looked back to see a police car swing off the road and speed past the shrine, widening the path. He had to admit he was grateful that Julian had saved the family from any need to meet the police. The car had halted at the top of the slope to the beach when William said "I know what he was killing."

  "What are you talking about, William?" Natalie demanded. "Who?"

  The man on all the trees."

  Ray wasn't sure that he wanted to ask, and saw the boy's parents weren't anxious to. It was Sandra who said "Tell us then, William."

  "Spiders."

  Julian gave a laugh or at any rate a summary of one. "I don't think so, son."

  "I think they were. Like the ones that were eating his spear in the shrine. They were in a bag like that," William said with untypical defiance, and Ray tried not to recall how shrivelled the husk of the man in the cave had been—how like a spider's victim.

  The Fifth Day: 24 August

  Ray thought that Sandra was standing by the bed, and then he recognised the corpse from the cave. It was leaning towards her, and he took it to be weeping for her until he saw it was blind, not to mention far from tearful. The bulging white eyes were cocoons from which spiders streamed down the loose withered cheeks. At least Ray was able to realise it was a dream, and now he grasped that the visitor wasn't the carcass he'd found but some other creature animated by a parody of life. For some reason this disturbed him more, and it took him far too long to struggle awake.

  The room was grey with dawn. Sandra was lying beside him, resting her head on one arm on the thin pillow. In the dim light he could just distinguish the mark on her upturned neck. Was that how she'd lain in his dream? He didn't know why it seemed important to remember. He slipped an arm around her waist and then inched his hand over her ribs as though groping for her breath. When he felt her chest rise and fall he managed to relax before his embrace could waken her. He ought to let her rest—stay peaceful while she had the chance—though he had to fend off the phrase his thoughts suggested. For a while he watched her shape grow almost imperceptibly brighter as the light in the room became less subdued, and then he edged out of bed.

  When he emerged from the bathroom Sandra still wasn't awake. He needn't rouse her, since over dinner everyone had agreed to spend today on the beach by the Sunny View. He was on the balcony, watching small waves snatch at the sunlight, when he heard William protesting down below. Once the boy raised his voice Ray was able to make out the words "I thought he came to see Jonquil."

  "You were dreaming, William."

  "No call to be so fierce about it, Jonquil," Julian said. "We know it had to be a dream."

  "So long as he does."

  "You're trying to buck him up, aren't you," Natalie said. "Just forget about it now, William."

  "I want to. It was somebody I couldn't see, but I think they came out of that cave."

  Ray was disconcerted by the resemblance to his own dream until he saw that they both must have had the cave on their minds. "Nobody's going to come out of there, William," he called. "We'll have a better time on this beach."

  Sandra hauled the window open and blinked with a wince at the day. "Are we all going down now?"

  "We're nowhere near going," Doug assured her. "Tim isn't even with us yet."

  "I am now," Tim only just pronounced.

  "Well, there's a miracle," Pris said. "You looked like you were sleeping the sleep of the, as if you were very asleep."

  "I know what he was," William informed her. "Like the dead. Like Jonquil."

  "I'd like to know what you mean by that, William."

  "Kindly leave it, Jonquil." Julian said. "You were certainly fast asleep. I hope you're more refreshed than you look."

  Ray might have observed that Sandra didn't seem to have benefitted much from sleeping in, but doing so would have dismayed him. He made coffee and had set out breakfast on the balcony by the time she joined him. She was wearing a sundress together with her hat and sunglasses even though the balcony would be shaded for hours. As she saw off a second glass of orange juice somebody knocked at a door. "Yes, who is it?" Julian called.

  "You aren't supposed to answer first time," Jonquil said in a tone Ray wasn't sure of.

  "Don't talk nonsense, girl. Take no notice, William." Julian's voice was receding through the apartment towards another knock. "I said who's there?" he urged.

  Ray heard the door open, and Evadne in the distance. "The car is here for you," she said.

  "I'm afraid you're mistaken. We've ordered no car."

  "No, it is the police. They will take you and Mr Thornton."

  "Then they should have given us some warning. As you see, I'm hardly even dressed."

  "They say you know."

  "In my case they're misinformed. Please come through." As Julian's voice spilled onto the lower balcony he demanded "Are you hearing what I'm being told, Raymond? Did you know about this?"

  "No more than you did," Ray said less sharply than he might have. Peering at his mobile let him add "Nobody's been in touch that I can see.

  Julian craned out to meet his eyes. "What do you propose doing?"

  "We may as well get it over with, do you think?"

  He was consulting Sandra too, but Julian was gone at once. "Please advise them we'll be along shortly," he said.

  "I'll take them
all down to the beach," Sandra told Ray, who saw her playing her old self. Perhaps so far as the family was concerned, she could. "Honestly," she said and gripped his hand, "you go and I'll be fine."

  He was holding on as if he'd forgotten how to let go of her when Doug called "Jules, you might want to take a bit of care how you talk."

  "I wasn't aware I was rude."

  "Where you're going, I mean. It's not a good idea to get on the wrong side of the authorities in this part of the world. I'm saying don't peeve the police."

  "I really can't imagine what you have in mind."

  "Uncle Doug's saying don't pee off the police."

  "William," Natalie cried, though Ray couldn't judge whether the boy meant to translate or to relish the usage. "Wherever did you learn that? Certainly not from either of your parents."

  "They say it at school."

  "I'm quite sure your teachers don't," Julian said.

  "They do, daddy, and they say—"

  "Never mind, William," Natalie said. "We don't want to hear, and we don't want you ever to say anything like that again. Bad words bring bad things."

  "What do they bring, mummy?"

  "We won't talk about it. I'm positive nobody would use language like that when your grandparents were teaching." As Ray grasped that her pause might have been inviting confirmation she said "And we definitely don't around the children I look after."

  "That's a nursery. They're littler than me."

  "It doesn't matter how old you are, William," his father said. "You should always be careful what you say."

  "You've got it, Jules," Doug said.

  While the silence seemed to grow increasingly expressive, Ray kissed Sandra's hand and released it at last. "I'm coming now, Julian," he called.

  He was waiting outside the Banks apartment—wondering if anyone would respond if he knocked just once—when Julian appeared, buttoning a moderately colourful short-sleeved shirt over his shorts. As the men passed Evadne's office a young woman in a blue police uniform marched across the courtyard. "Banks," she said. "Thornton."

  "I'm Mr Banks," Julian said, "and this is Mr Thornton."