ANA was certain she had made the right decision to move when she and Kevin arrived at the far end of the promenade and settled in a shady café on the edge of the sea. Kevin seemed to have recovered his balance on the walk.

 

“It’s almost midday, shall we have a beer, and some olives and crisps? On a hot day, a beer is more refreshing than a coffee.”

​

“Sarah used to say a beer was good for your health, as long as you didn’t make it two.” 

 

After she had ordered, Kevin talked about Sarah. Since her death, Ana had received several different pictures of her. There was the woman she remembered from the beach party, glamorous and combative, the Hollywood film star; then there was the Sarah who emerged from the readings at the funeral, the woman who had loved India and the children she taught there and learned from. And now Kevin’s descriptions of his outings with Sarah, and the things she said showed another face, and Ana wondered if Sarah had felt more at ease with Kevin than her other friends. Ana wondered why Sarah’s old friends had failed to read the signals of someone in trouble. Kevin had, by the sound of it, been a real comfort to her, and Ana determined to repay him by offering some of the support which he so obviously needed now. 

 

“Sarah is the only one I have told, Ana. I suppose it’s why we were so close. She told me awful things had happened to her too, and so I think she understood why I came here, why I ran away.”
 

“If you can tell me, Kevin, if you think I can understand, although maybe not as much as Sarah, I would feel privileged to listen.”

He took a deep breath and Ana remembered how difficult it could be to tell people how you were feeling. 

 

“Three years ago,” he began, “someone killed my wife and my little boy when a car coming the other way smashed right into them. The driver was drunk, and he was going fast. Ruth and Jake never stood a chance.”

 

It couldn’t, Ana thought, get much worse than that.

 

“I would have gone with them. I wish I had, Ana. I tried to swim out to sea afterwards, and not come back, but I couldn’t do it. I can’t even do that, you see. What a dead loss I am. Can’t save anyone, and can’t even kill myself."  He told her they had been coming back from the school. Jake had a part in a play, and Kevin couldn’t go as he was working evenings that week. Otherwise, he would have been driving

 

“Oh Kevin, what a terrible thing to happen.” She didn’t even try to stop her tears, knowing he was longing to talk to someone who cared about his lost family. She couldn’t imagine how he had managed to carry on at all. “How old was Jake? What was he like? And Ruth, how old was she?” 

 

“He was five, such a bright little chap. He hadn’t been in proper school long, but he joined in everything.” Jake had been so excited to get a part in the play, he said, and he had been learning his lines for weeks. Kevin had tried unsuccessfully to find someone to swap shifts with but he didn’t want to upset his boss. He had been an engineer with British Telecom and at the time the staff knew they were looking to make people redundant. “We couldn’t afford for me to give up that job. He was so understanding, Jake; he kept saying ‘It’s okay, Dad, I will act the play for you at home’.

 

And he was going to, that weekend, Kevin told her. Ruth, who was a teacher at a different school had asked Jake’s teacher for the script. Ruth was a born teacher, Kevin told Ana. “It would have broke your heart, their funeral; you never saw so many children, and so many flowers.  All the kids in school came to the funeral, Ana; they was all crying, they all loved Ruth, she was so good with kids.” Even knowing of the pain and tragedy in Sarah’s life, Ana thought she had never heard a sadder story than the one Kevin was telling her. And he told it without drama and without self-pity.  She was full of admiration for him, and she was glad that Sarah had obviously found comfort with him. How petty and spiteful the suspicions of Sarah’s friends seemed now she had heard the truth.

 

She ordered another beer for Kevin, water for her, and a plate of chips and, gradually, Kevin finished his story. The driver had been found guilty of manslaughter and was imprisoned for a long spell. He was, by all accounts, completely broken by the awful consequences of his act, but no amount of remorse could give back a wife and son, and soon Kevin too broke apart.

 

Ana realised that Kevin must have suffered a complete mental collapse, and he told her he had spent two months recuperating in a mental hospital. The only bright spot was that his employers, encouraged by the intervention of his union representative, had been understanding. He was granted six months’ sick leave and had then taken early retirement on health grounds. The pension package they gave him, together with the insurance pay-out he reluctantly accepted, enabled him to rent out his house in south-east England, and move to Spain. “I had to get away, Ana, I just couldn’t stand it there. I couldn’t bear the pity in everyone’s eyes, even my Mum’s. You see, my Dad died a long time ago. My Mum worshipped Jake, she thought the sun shined from his you-know-what, and she cried every time she saw me."

 

And so he decided on a clean break, where he knew no one, no one felt sorry for him. And as he began to feel better, he told Sarah what had happened, and he thought it a miracle that the only person he had told had perfectly understood. She had told him she too knew what it was like to have people feel sorry for her. “She said I should start thinking about looking for a job. I’m really good with my hands, always have been, and she was going to help me get started, looking for little jobs, but now she has gone too. It must be me, I’m a jinx on anyone I like.” 

 

He became tearful and Ana felt at a loss. How could she comfort him, she, whose greatest sadness in her life so far was finding out that Diego had been consistently unfaithful to her?

 

“Oh Kevin, I can see it must feel like that, but of course it’s not true. Bad things happen, and sometimes they happen several times to the same person. It’s awful for you, but it’s not your fault. I think you have done wonderfully well. I can’t imagine how difficult it was to come to a completely strange place, like you have. And you have made a place for yourself here, Kevin; you have joined groups, made friends. It’s not easy, and not everyone can do it. And you made a really good friend in Sarah. She was so unhappy, and you were the one person who comforted her. That must have meant such a lot to her. And the work, that’s such a good idea, Kevin.”

 

An idea came to her, not to speak about now, it was too soon. She would tell Holly about Kevin’s plan to look for small building jobs. Perhaps the agency she and Lynette were planning could use someone reliable to work with them. She would have to find a way to encourage Kevin to share his story with them and then he could begin to move on from this second tragedy in his life.

 

And surely Lynette could no longer harbour any suspicions about Kevin once she had heard his sad story and understood how that had forged a link with Sarah, two sad people who understood each other. Maybe, just maybe, we can all start to move on, Sarah’s death must have been an accident, and none of us could have harmed her. 

 

It was, she realised, us, now.

​

 

HOLLY, Jeff, Jonathan and Lynette were sitting together in a restaurant overlooking the harbour when Daniel and Ana arrived. Holly’s invitation to join the group was a surprise and symbolised, Ana thought, a positive change in the dynamics of their relationship with Daniel’s friends. She wondered if she and Holly might become friends and was easier with Lynette since the visit of Tony and Dominic.  

 

Although Spanish schools had already closed for their long summer break, British schools still had another couple of weeks of term left and the Port was pleasantly busy, the main holiday crowds yet to arrive. The breeze had encouraged some of the sailing boats to come out and the blue and white picture soothed Ana. She was conscious how little time she’d had to think, for weeks now, and there were things to talk over with Daniel. But, still, it was a beautiful evening and it was not until they had ordered the meal, and the first glasses of wine poured, that conversation turned to Sarah’s death and the lack of any progress in the police investigation.

 

“Do you know,” Jonathan said, “I keep thinking back to my police statement, I wasn’t untruthful, but I didn’t tell the whole truth. I don’t know what the rest of you said to them, but I didn’t tell them all the things Sarah said to me when we were swimming out to the island that evening. To be honest, I was ashamed to repeat it, both for me and for Sarah. After all, it was all true, but I was shocked that she wanted to dig up all that dirt about me. It wasn’t exactly the stuff of friendship.” 

 

“Oh Jonathan,” said Holly, “I am so glad you said that. I have been feeling awful, although I suppose it’s the opposite problem in a way. I wish I hadn’t told the police all the things Sarah said about Ivan; I feel I may have made trouble for him. I felt even worse after Mark asked me to read all the other awful things that Sarah had dug up, about lots of us, actually.” She looked at Ana and Daniel, uncertain now about who knew what. “Oh, my God,” Lynette said, “do you think someone killed her because of what she found out about them? Honestly, Jon,  I reaise the things she said to you must have hurt,  especially the way she said them, but they aren’t a secret. You told me about them a long time ago, so you would hardly push her off the cliff to stop her repeating them. I suppose there could be worse things about other people, though, really secret things…” She seemed to realise that Holly was looking uncomfortable. “You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, Holly, it must be really awkward for you knowing stuff, and not knowing whether to say anything. What did Mark say; did he ask you not to tell?” 

 

 

“Well, he didn’t really say anything. I think he was too shocked, like me. The thing is, there were different things. What was strange is there wasn’t much about Ivan. I think Sarah had only heard a story the day before about him, just before the beach party, so she didn’t have time to do much checking. Most of the things she said on the beach came straight from Barbara Jones, and you know what Barbara is like; she is always repeating stories someone told her, and she often gets half of it wrong. I think Sarah found Ivan’s biography on the old boys’ web page of his school but to be honest, that was hardly going to say whether or not he is working for the Russian mafia, and it would certainly not say if he is a spy. At the very least, the fact that someone’s a spy is supposed to be secret, isn’t it?”

 

They all laughed at this, relaxing a little as the first courses arrived and wine glasses were refilled. The view of the sea was so beautiful.  Ana wondered why this paradise had attracted so many people with sad secrets, and why Daniel had told her that Mark had not looked at all Sarah's files about her friends. 

 

 

“Actually,” Holly said suddenly, “Sarah found out something about my past too. I haven’t told Jeff about it yet, as it shocked me, and I really wanted time to think it through but, well, we are all in the same boat, I suppose.”

 

Seeing the look on Jeff’ face, she put her arm around his shoulder. “It’s nothing awful, darling, it’s just that she found out I had an abortion, when we were at university. I was 21, we hadn’t been together that long, and I knew I couldn’t give a child of ours what I wanted then. I was so lucky. Jeff supported me, my family supported me. I was able to get advice, and a bit of counselling from BPAS. That’s not the point, really, though. I think for Sarah, it was so awful to discover that I had an abortion, but was then able to go on and have two children later, when we were ready and able to look after them. So different to her story; it must have made her feel very sad.”

 

“But sweetie,” asked Lynette, “how on earth could Sarah have found that out? Don’t tell me she hacked into the BPAS computer.”

“They wouldn’t have had computers in those days,” Jonathan said, “and a good thing too; much more private, so how did Sarah get the information?”

 

“It wasn’t hard at all, actually.”

 

She told them she had been a speaker at a sixth-form conference, about fifteen years previously. It had been a gathering of sixth-formers and their teachers, from several schools in Winchester. The discussion got around to abortion, and one of the female teachers from a Roman Catholic sixth-form college had given a lecture about how terrible abortion was; she claimed that it was murder to a foetus and that to have an abortion would ruin a life.

 

“I thought it was only fair to put the other side of the argument” Holly said “so I used my personal experience to tell the kids that it was possible to have an abortion, and then to go on to lead a normal life, have a career, children who are wanted, and for whom you can provide a decent life.” She had received loud applause from the sixth-formers, which must have annoyed the first speaker, because she sent a report of the conference to a local newspaper. She had accused Holly of corrupting the youth of the town.

 

“Thankfully my headmaster was very supportive, as were most of the parents in my school and there was little more local publicity. But, surprise, surprise, the Daily Mail tried to make a story of it. But sadly for them, everyone behaved very calmly, and I refused to comment, so it never really took off in the national papers but of course, if you search for my name long enough online, you can find the story.”

 

“Poor old you, sweetie,” said Lynette. “I am sure it was tough at the time, for both you and Jeff. Did Sarah ever ask you about the story?”
 

“No, that’s the really weird thing, she never did, and that’s why it was such a shock to come across it on Sarah’s computer. I think Mark saw I was upset, because he gave my hand a squeeze, and told me he hadn’t ever quite realised how much Sarah’s life had hurt her.”

They were silent for a while, each, Ana thought, lost in their own separate thoughts of Sarah.

 

“Charles Trenet singing La Mer was her number one all-time favourite,” Jeff said. “Do you remember she used to play it over and over again, and sing along when she was a bit tipsy?” Lynette’s eyes filled with tears “I  remember the times we all got drunk together. I don’t suppose we will ever have fun like that again. It’s as if we have all grown old suddenly, and seen the world for what it is. I realised the other day why I had my fling,” and she shot Daniel a quick look, “ I felt young again. It didn’t last long, but while it did it was just the most marvellous feeling; to feel young and beautiful, and desirable again.” 

 

Ana began to fear Lynette was becoming maudlin and that she would say something that would really upset Daniel; she saw he was looking at Lynette with an expression she couldn’t read. It certainly wasn’t disapproval or disgust. Was he remembering that time? Did he regret that he hadn’t done more to make Lynette feel young and special? She was relieved when Jonathan broke in. “I think we have all grown up these last few weeks, probably a bit overdue in my case. I have thought a lot about my life, and how I have excused things I have done in the past, things I don’t like, by imagining life is more difficult because I am gay. What happened to Sarah has put back some perspective. I couldn’t sleep well while we were staying in Mark’s house, so I spent a lot of time thinking.”