‘I’m not involved.’

‘This is such a mess.’ He sighed. ‘Let me tell you what I think. After he stabbed me, Sam left in a panic. You found him somewhere, upset, he told you what he thought he saw and what he’d done. You came to the house to see for yourself, then you left when Alison came home. You know where he is now, and you’re trying to work out what to do.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘Am I close?’

She said nothing.

‘I’m close,’ Jack said.

‘You said, “what he thought he saw”, about Sam.’

Jack lifted a hand, palm up. ‘It was all a stupid misunderstanding.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you weren’t raping your daughter?’

Jack’s eyes widened. ‘Of course not, I love Lib.’

‘What were you doing, then?’

‘She was upset about something in school. I was just comforting her. I’m allowed to hug my own daughter.’

‘So Sam got the wrong end of the stick and stabbed you.’

Jack sighed. ‘I don’t want him to get in any trouble over this.’

‘It’s you who’s in trouble,’ Ellie said. She was trying to keep her voice level.

‘It escalated out of control. I don’t know what he thought he saw, but it was totally innocent. Honestly.’

‘He said your trousers were at your ankles.’

‘He’s been very difficult recently, big mood swings, struggling with mental illness.’

‘Really.’

Jack shook his head. ‘We’ve been to see a psychologist, and he’s taking different medication, but he’s tried to overdose twice. Talks about seeing and hearing things, hallucinations, maybe that’s what happened the other day.’

Ellie remembered Sam standing on the bridge, in a trance.

‘I don’t believe you for a second,’ she said.

Jack narrowed his eyes. ‘You’ve been speaking to him. Has he seemed rational the whole time?’

Ellie thought about that. ‘Yes.’

‘I know you’re covering for him and I know why. Because of Logan.’

Ellie didn’t say anything.

‘But Sam isn’t Logan,’ Jack said. ‘He’s my son.’

Ellie shook her head. ‘You’ve been abusing Libby for years.’

Jack looked shocked. ‘Sam made that up.’

‘Libby told me, not Sam.’

Jack stared at her. ‘When did you speak to Libby?’

Ellie shook her head.

‘She’s lying,’ Jack said. ‘I don’t know why, but she’s lying. Maybe she’s covering for Sam, maybe she thinks if she says that, Sam won’t get in trouble for stabbing me. Maybe she wants to hurt me and her mum. I don’t know. She can be a very difficult girl.’

‘I don’t believe a word you say,’ Ellie said.

‘It’s the most hurtful thing a kid can do, accuse their parent of something like this. She doesn’t realise, she’s only young, but it breaks my heart. You must know how it would feel. Imagine if Logan had said that about you, or Ben.’

‘How do you know my husband’s name?’

Jack shrugged. ‘I’m a police officer.’

She pictured herself at her kitchen table, Logan coming in, sheepish look on his face, avoiding eye contact. She asks if something is wrong, he skirts around it, not wanting to tell but yes, wanting to tell, confronting something horrible, then blurting out that his dad has been doing things to him, terrible things, touching him, making him do things he didn’t like. Ellie felt her stomach flip and the muscles in her shoulders tighten.

What if it was all made up? What if Sam was struggling with medication, with mental illness, what if Libby was covering for him? What if this was an innocent man sitting next to her – imagine what she or Ben would feel like if false accusations were made against them, if Logan had written something in a suicide note that said he’d killed himself because of them, because of abuse?

No, this is what abusers do, they manipulate people. It’s all about power, being in control, and Jack didn’t like it because for once he wasn’t in control, things were spiralling away from him and he couldn’t contain them any longer.

‘I need to get some air,’ Ellie said.

She opened the door and felt a hand on her arm. Her fingers tightened around the key in her pocket.

‘Wait,’ Jack said.

Ellie looked at him. He was worried. If she was honest, he didn’t look dangerous, sweating from the pain, he looked nervous and downtrodden, an underdog.

‘You have to believe me,’ he said. ‘I’ve never done anything to Libby. I would never harm her, I swear on my mother’s grave. The same goes for Sam.’

Ellie pressed her mouth into a thin line. ‘I need to go.’

‘I just want my family back,’ Jack said. ‘Things back the way they were. You of all people must understand that.’

Ellie shook her head and looked at his hand on her sleeve. He followed her gaze then lifted his hand away, letting her go.

‘Please help me get my family back,’ Jack said. ‘That’s all I want.’

‘I have to think.’

Jack nodded like a puppy. ‘Of course.’

Ellie undid her seatbelt. ‘I’m getting out.’

Jack frowned. ‘I’ll give you a lift back.’

Ellie got out the car.

‘It’s miles back to town,’ Jack said. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘I want to walk.’

She shut the door. She didn’t want any more words, she needed space and time. She looked up and down the road. Several miles of nothing, scrub grass on the verge, the Forth over the other side of the road, hedges and fields behind her.

The BMW sat next to her for a long moment, the engine turning over. Then she heard revs and it swept round in a U-turn towards town. The crunch of gravel and the throb of the engine receded until there was nothing, just the gentle shush of waves lapping at the shore.

Ellie waited until the car was out of sight then began walking back to the Ferry. She pulled out her phone. It rang three times then she heard Sam’s voice.

‘Your dad’s out of hospital,’ she said.

28

Ellie strode fast, the Forth to her side as she cut along Society Road, past the old house and the handful of new-builds by the water. She wondered if more developments would spring up in the shadow of the new bridge, or if people would stay away, put off by traffic and noise.

She cut down the back way on to Shore Road and came to the marina from the west end. The disused lane was blocked to traffic, old concrete tank-defences placed across it, but still accessible on foot.

She emerged at the harbour still thinking of Jack. She put herself in his shoes, what would it be like to be accused of something like that by your own kid?

It came down to trust. Did she trust Jack? Why should she? But he hadn’t seemed like a man who would do something like that, he’d seemed like one of life’s losers, just like her, struggling to get by, trying to keep his family together. He was right, she could relate to that. But what about Libby and Sam, she trusted them, didn’t she? Libby had been visibly upset, in tears when she spoke about her dad. And where did Alison fit into all this – did she suspect and cover up for her husband, or was she really in the dark? Maybe there was nothing to know, maybe Jack was telling the truth.

She walked past the warehouse where Sam had decamped, turned towards the pier. The wind was up, the rigging clattering away on the boats rocking in their berths. She took the stairs three at a time down to the pontoon then along to the Porpoise.

She scanned the horizon as she clambered on board, but there was no one in sight, the place shutting down for the day.

She went below deck. Sam and Libby were sitting either side of the table. Strewn across the surface were a half-finished loaf of bread, empty crisp packets and chocolate wrappers, juice bottles. Ellie realised that she yearned for Sam, her arms ached to hold him. Her heart swelled at the sight of him, still wearing Logan’s clothes, flicking his hair out of his face. Libby was slouched on the opposite bench, shoving the last of a crisp sandwich into her mouth. Ellie was overwhelmed with something, the ordinariness of this, kids being kids, the three of them on a boat, snacking and chatting, normal, boring family shit. Except it wasn’t her family.