Blood Tracks Read online

  “That’s not fair. You two have got longer legs than me,” Danny called out indignantly.

  Declan scrambled back up the sliding sand and released him.

  “Let’s get you to the bottom,” Declan said, rolling the boy down the hill.

  Danny reached the beach, spitting sand out of his mouth. “Brilliant!” he said giddily. “Do it again!”

  “Leave Declan alone and go and chase some sticks or something,” Gina said.

  “Just because you want to be alone so you can snog him,” Danny sang.

  Gina lunged at her brother. Danny sprang up and ran off along the massive expanse of beach. He held the ends of his coat out behind him, hoping that the fierce wind would lift him up like a human kite.

  Gina shook her head in protest. “Ignore him. Danny’s off his head. You do know that I’m so over that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know,” Declan muttered.

  They walked along the beach, the wind blowing away the grime of the city.

  “Why do you think Tom invited me today?” Declan asked.

  Gina shrugged. “I suppose he’s just trying to get in with me. He probably thinks I’d want you here. He’s desperate to play happy families with us and Mum is letting him; she won’t listen to me.”

  “What do you mean? You haven’t told her anything, have you?” Declan sounded worried.

  Gina clammed up. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her confession to Mum. She knew he’d never trust her again if she did.

  “No!” Gina said, as if she was insulted by his question. “Anyway, do you still think it’s drugs?”

  “Well, what was it Sissouma told Kylie? ‘It induces great happiness but costs much, much more.’ Doesn’t that sound like drugs to you? He’s talking about getting high.”

  “Kylie reckons Sissouma’s full of bull and she doesn’t think Tom would be involved in drug trafficking.”

  “Well then he must be making a fortune from cocoa beans. Just look where he lives. Must feel like he’s on holiday all the time here,” Declan mused.

  Gina knew what Declan meant. When stepping out of Tom’s luxurious home they were greeted by alpine-scented woods, not the grey narrow streets outside their own houses. And a short walk through the trees brought them to these undulating sand dunes with views from the top that laid the whole horizon bare. The massive expanse of sand, the foaming waves crashing onto the shore, the huge skies, with the dazzling sun playing hide and seek behind the racing clouds. This place had always seemed to Gina like a different world from her neighbourhood, with its harsh docks, diesel-filled air and constant cacophony.

  “If he takes us back to his house again we might get a chance to look around,” Gina said.

  “I wouldn’t count on it. I felt his eyes on me all the time. Even when I went to the loo I found him loitering outside.”

  “You’re being paranoid,” Gina said uneasily.

  “Hey, you two!” Tom’s voiced boomed behind them. “Keep walking straight on. We’re heading to the marina. I want to show Declan something.”

  Declan pulled a face. “What’s that about?” he asked Gina.

  “Don’t know,” she replied, turning round and scowling as she saw her mum and Tom strolling shoulder to shoulder along the beach.

  “It’s wonderful here, Tom,” Clare said, inhaling the sea air. “Look at Danny – he’s in his element.” She pointed to him, flapping his arms and running around in the distance.

  “You need to come here more often; a lot more often,” Tom said. “I’m rattling around in that big house. It gets lonely. You and the kids should stay over at weekends. Danny could learn how to surf, Gina could run for miles along the beach instead of that stinking canal, and you…well, there’s a lovely spa down the road, I could book you treatments. You deserve to be pampered for once.”

  Clare gave a bittersweet smile. “You make everything sound so tempting. I wish things were as straightforward as that.”

  “Don’t worry, Gina won’t be like this for ever. We’ll get her better,” Tom said, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

  They all reached the marina and stood on the jetty, where Tom’s Mirror dinghy was tethered. The steely grey water was jumping up at them and slapping against the jetty’s wooden slats.

  “I thought you might fancy a quick sail,” Tom said to Declan, holding the mooring rope in an effort to steady the rocking boat. “In you go.”

  “You’re joking, aren’t you? It’s a bit rough out there,” Declan said.

  “Perfect sailing conditions,” Tom chirped.

  “Thanks for the offer, Mr. Cotter, but I’m not much of a sailor. The ferry over to Ireland is the extent of my seafaring experience.”

  “Well, then, that settles it. You definitely need a lesson.” Tom gripped Declan’s arm and pushed him down into the bobbing boat.

  Gina saw the look of trepidation on Declan’s face. “Can I come too?” she asked hurriedly.

  “Yes,” Declan said relieved, reaching up and taking her hand, but Tom pulled them apart.

  “Sorry, but there’s only room in the boat for two. Let Declan learn the ropes, we don’t want him distracted by you, Gina.”

  “Go on, Declan, don’t be a baby.” Danny grinned.

  Tom stepped down into the boat and told Danny to untie the rope.

  “Where are the life jackets?” Gina asked.

  “Under the seat,” Tom answered.

  “Then put them on,” she demanded.

  “And don’t stay out too long. It looks wild out there,” her mum added.

  “Stop fussing. Anyone would think we were off on a round-the-world voyage,” Tom laughed.

  Gina, Clare and Danny watched from the jetty as the fragile-looking boat grew smaller and smaller. Even in the distance they could still see that the turbulent waters were tossing the little boat around.

  Inside the dinghy, Declan’s face had turned a sickly shade of green. He reached underneath for the yellow life jacket.

  “Don’t bother with those,” Tom said with a sly smile. “They’re useless; punctured. I’ve been meaning to replace them for weeks.”

  Declan looked petrified, gripping onto the side of the boat with white knuckles.

  Tom laughed, slapping the boy hard on the shoulder. “Come on, shipmate, this is meant to be a sailing lesson. Get the jib up.”

  “What the hell is the jib?” Declan whimpered, feeling his stomach heave.

  “Here.” Tom handed him ropes. “Get the sail up. I’ll stay at the helm and sort the mainsail.”

  Declan regretted pulling the ropes. As soon as the wind caught the red sails the boat was propelled forward as if someone had lit the fuse on a rocket.

  “Lovely work.” Tom grinned, delighting in the boy’s discomfort. “Now we tack.”

  Without warning, Tom slackened the ropes and the boom swung across the boat, skimming Declan’s hair. “Move to the other side of the boat, quickly!” Tom ordered as Declan floundered in the middle in confusion. The boat rocked and rolled. Tom grabbed him by his hoodie and plonked him down on the bench next to him.

  “That thing could have knocked me out,” Declan protested, pointing to the boom.

  “You have to be quick on your feet. When I say ‘move’ you shift to the opposite side asap, do you understand?”

  “Listen, Mr. Cotter, this is really nice of you but I’m better on dry land. Can we go back now?”

  “No, you’ll soon get the hang of it. Look how we’re powered up. Isn’t it exhilarating?”

  Declan didn’t answer. His head was hanging over the side of the boat, the contents of his stomach emptying into the waters.

  “Ready for another one?” Tom said, releasing the boom again. “Hike out!” he shouted to the dribbling young man as he nimbly ducked and stepped to the opposite side, leaning, straight-backed, over the side of the boat. The sails billowed, the boat changed direction sharply and Declan clung onto the seat opposite for dear life. Tom slid his feet into the toe
straps screwed to the deck and chose his moment carefully. He waited until Declan had struggled onto the bench, then he leaned in and eased the ropes, taking the wind out of the sail. This caused the dinghy to list so violently on Declan’s side that it catapulted him out of the boat, heels over head, into the wild waters. Tom worked quickly to rectify the vessel. His eyes scanned the churning waters, but there was no sign of the young man.

  Declan was lost under the dark, paralyzing water. The shock of the cold felt like a vice around his chest. He was so disorientated that his brain couldn’t work out whether he was thrashing up to the surface or down to the depths. He tried to open his eyes, but the stinging saltwater forced them shut. The longer it took to see daylight the more he was panicking. He found himself praying, something he hadn’t done for years, despite his mum’s best efforts.

  Please, God, get me out of here. Please let me be heading in the right direction. I’ll try and be good. I’ll start going to Mass again, I promise.

  The tension fell from Tom’s face as he saw the hand appear above the water, quickly followed by Declan’s head, his mouth open and gasping. Declan was frantically treading water as the sea tossed him about.

  He spluttered, waiting for Tom to sail towards him, but instead he watched in disbelief as Tom started to circle the boat around him like a shark eyeing up a shipwrecked sailor.

  Declan strained to wave with one arm, battling against the water with the other to keep him afloat.

  Gina narrowed her eyes. What was going on out there? They were too far to be sure but, from the jetty, it looked like the boat was circling. She thought she could only see one figure on the dinghy. What had happened? Was one of them lying on the deck? Had one of them fallen overboard?

  “Get me out of here,” Declan spluttered through chattering teeth.

  “Don’t be so impatient. A few more minutes will clear the cobwebs away.”

  “I’m freezing…please!”

  “Have you been spying on me, Declan?” Tom shouted to him.

  Declan felt like his heart had stopped pumping.

  Oh my God, what does he know? What do I say?

  The boat continued to circle the flailing boy.

  “NO!” Declan called.

  “What have you seen at the warehouse? Come on, Declan. I’m dying to know.”

  “Nothing, I don’t know what you’re on about,” he said breathlessly.

  “Clare says you’ve been spying for Gina. Trying to dig up some dirt on me,” Tom shouted.

  Declan’s frozen mind crunched into action. He’d been given a lifeline. How could he use it?

  “No…well yes…but not really,” he spluttered, the saltwater slapping his face. “I…I…I told Gina I’d keep an eye out but I haven’t been and I haven’t seen anything, honest.”

  “But you have been spying, Declan. You’re always taking an unhealthy interest in my business.”

  “Yeah…but not because I’m s-s-spying,” he chattered through blue lips. “I…I want to learn the business. I like it, I think I could be good at it.”

  “So you want to import cocoa beans for a living?” Tom sneered, unconvinced.

  “I…I…want to be rich, like you. That’s all, Mr. Cotter. I just want to be like you.” He gulped in the biting air, unable to catch his breath.

  Tom’s eyebrows arched in amusement. “Well, it seems I have a fan. I like the idea of that. What do you want to be, Declan? A mini-me? I hope you’re not going to turn into a stalker, are you?” he laughed.

  Another wave engulfed Declan, crashing over his head.

  He bobbed up again. “P-p-please, Mr. Cotter, get me out of here. I can’t feel my legs, I’m sinking,” he pleaded.

  Tom steered the dinghy towards the floundering boy. Declan grabbed the side, clinging on like a limpet. Tom looked down at him.

  “I’m a very private person, Declan. I don’t like anyone knowing my business. And I don’t like you trying to dig up dirt on me in the hope of getting into Gina’s knickers. Do you understand?”

  Declan nodded, his face quivering.

  Tom reached over, took hold of the waterlogged hoodie and pulled Declan into the boat like a fisherman hauling in a catch. Declan lay, coughing and shaking, on the wooden floor. Tom calmly took the helm, heading for shore.

  “Let’s get you back and out of those wet things before you catch your death.” He smiled benevolently.

  “But…but you could have drowned me.” Declan stared up at Tom in shocked anger.

  “What are you on about?” Tom said darkly. “It was your own fault that you fell out of the boat. You didn’t listen to my instructions. You’re not used to sailing.” He glared at the boy, daring him to disagree.

  Declan sat up and wrapped his arms around his trembling body. “You did it on purpose,” he whispered into his knees.

  Tom pointed. “Can you see them waiting anxiously on the jetty? You’ve given them a real scare.”

  Declan looked over at the figures; Gina was jumping up and down, waving frantically at the boat, her shouts lost on the wind.

  “I look forward to hearing you telling them how it happened, okay?”

  Declan’s blue lips quivered with cold and impotent rage. He nodded meekly.

  Tom leaned over and gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Good boy. Now let me just make myself clear; I like young men with ambition, they remind me of myself, but if I ever even suspect that you’re spying on me, we’ll go for another boat trip and next time I’ll dump you a mile out at sea and I won’t be so quick to fish you out. You understand, don’t you, Declan?”

  Declan looked into his boss’s cold blue eyes. Yes, now he understood what kind of man Tom Cotter really was and he felt sick with fear.

  Gina held out her hand to Declan as the dinghy came in to land, bumping against the side of the jetty. “God, Declan, you gave us a fright.”

  Declan didn’t respond as he stepped unsteadily out of the boat.

  “He’s had a shock; he’s freezing. Come here, love, let’s get you back to Tom’s house,” her mum said, drawing her coat around the silent boy.

  “How did you fall out?” Danny asked.

  Tom answered for him. “He stood up. He didn’t listen to me.”

  “You’re a right divvy,” Danny laughed.

  Declan’s face remained grim.

  Danny suddenly realized it wasn’t a laughing matter. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he added.

  “He’s fine. He just needs to find his sea legs,” Tom said encouragingly.

  Back at the house Tom was an attentive host. Fussing over Declan, insisting that he kept the change of clothes he gave him and trying to coax him to stay for dinner, but all Declan wanted to do was to get as far away from his boss as possible.

  “I really need to get home.” He smiled at Tom through gritted teeth.

  “We’ll all go,” Gina’s mum said.

  “No, please don’t. I’ll get the train, it’s no bother.” His voice was blank.

  “Well, I really enjoyed our little sailing lesson, Declan. Anytime you want another one, just let me know,” Tom offered, generously.

  Declan shot him a cutting look.

  Gina followed Declan out of the front door and onto the sweeping driveway.

  “Are you sure you feel well enough to go home alone?”

  “Stop fussing, Gina, it was only a dip in the sea.” He gave a weak smile and began to walk away but suddenly rushed back to her, throwing his arms around her and squeezing.

  She tapped three times like a submitting judo opponent. “Declan,” her muffled voice called out from his chest. “I can’t breathe.”

  He released her.

  She saw his crumpled face, his eyes watery. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just all that sea water, still stinging my eyes.” He backed away and strode down the path. “Please, take care, Gina,” he shouted without turning round.

  By the time Declan stood on the railway platform his fear and shock had
turned to anger. He waited impatiently for his call to be answered.

  “Hello, Declan,” the thick voice said.

  “He’s on to me!”

  “What are you on about?” Stevie asked.

  “Cotter, he’s just nearly drowned me in the sea. He knows I’ve been spying on him. He threatened me. He’ll let me drown next time.”

  “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?” the man asked anxiously.

  “Of course I didn’t! I’m not stupid.”

  “Good lad. You’ve done well. We’ve got him on the run.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it. It’s not safe. I can’t do this any more.” Declan’s voice wavered.

  “We can’t stop now. You’ll be fine. Cotter was testing you out and you held your nerve. People make mistakes when they’re rattled and Tom Cotter is obviously a nervous man. You’ve got nothing to worry about; I’ve got your back!”

  “Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”

  Danny opened the door to their bathroom and found Tom in a haze of steam and scents, a towel wrapped around his waist, his toned torso stretched as he vigorously rubbed another towel over his wet hair.

  “Sorry,” Danny said in sleepy surprise. “I didn’t know you were here. I’ll wait outside.”

  “No, come on in, I’ve finished. I stayed over last night, downstairs.” He beckoned Danny in and then spun him round, tutting playfully. “Let me have a look at that bedhead. You need some serious attention.”

  “You can talk. You look like you’ve got a hangover,” Danny retorted, looking at Tom’s bloodshot eyes.

  It was true that Tom wasn’t looking his best. Yesterday evening he’d come round to see the family after work, determined to stay the night. Before Clare knew it, it was late and he’d drunk too much whisky to drive home. He’d quietly suggested to Clare that he might sleep over, on the sofa bed in the living room. At first she’d seemed unsure. “But what about Gina?”

  “Be strong, Clare,” Tom had replied. “Remember, ‘tough love’, you’re the one in charge, not Gina. And I’m only sleeping on the sofa, for God’s sake.”

  Clare had taken his advice and refused to listen to Gina’s protests.