Page 167 of Pull Me Under

‘Twenty-seven.’ The number comes out automatically. His age. His birthday. The way he takes his coffee. All the details I shouldn’t know, shouldn’t have memorised, shouldn’t be carrying around like stones in my pocket.

Helen’s watching my face. She’s got twenty years of reading between lines, of parsing silences. I see the moment she clocks something.

‘How well do you know them, Brynn?’

Lily snorts. ‘Mum. Seriously. Look at her face.’

‘Shut up,’ I say, but there’s no heat in it.

‘Oh my God.’ Lily sits up straighter, delighted.

‘Lily.’ Helen’s voice sharpens.

‘It’s fine.’ I pull out a chair. Sit down heavily. The cat on the other chair opens both eyes now, offended by the disturbance. ‘It’s Jude. Was Jude. I don’t know what it is anymore.’

The kettle clicks off. Steam rises. Nobody moves to deal with it.

‘And Kit?’ Helen asks. ‘Do you know Kit too?’

‘I haven’t actually met him. He’s been in New York – his girlfriend Isla’s in a Broadway show, so he’s been out there with her. But he’s a fisherman, like his dad. Runs the business with Jude.’ I pause. ‘They’re both RNLI. Volunteer lifeboat crew.’

Something flickers across Helen’s face. Pride, maybe. Or fear. Probably both – the sea gives and the sea takes, and she’d know that better than most.

‘His first wife died,’ I continue. ‘Jess. A few years back. Cancer, I think.’

Helen’s hands clutch and twist together. ‘Oh, my poor boy.’

‘They had a daughter. Before Jess passed.’ I hesitate, not sure if this will break her or heal her. ‘Her name’s Maisie. She’s eight or nine – I haven’t actually met her yet, so I’m not sure exactly.’

Helen goes completely still.

The kitchen is silent except for the tick of a clock somewhere and the distant sound of traffic.

‘A daughter,’ Helen whispers. ‘Kit has a daughter.’

‘Mum.’ Lily reaches across and takes her mother’s hand. ‘Mum, you okay?’

‘I’m a grandmother.’ Helen’s voice cracks on the word. ‘I have a granddaughter. I’ve never – I didn’t even know she⁠—’

The tears come then. Different from before – not grief for Gareth, or the passing of time without her own boys, but something rawer. All those years. First steps, first words, first day of school. Birthday parties and Christmas mornings and scraped knees. Years of a little girl’s life, growing up without knowing her grandmother existed.

‘What happened?’ Helen asks quietly.

And there it is. The question I’ve been dreading since I got in the car and pointed it toward Bristol. The question I don’t know how to answer without unravelling everything.

Your ex-husband had a heart attack. While he was confused, he confessed to forcing you out. Jude heard everything. Then he looked at me like I was the enemy and told me to get out. Because I knew – I’d found your letters the day before – and I hadn’t told him.

And now I’m here, in your kitchen, because I didn’t know what else to do. Because sitting in that empty cottage waiting to see if he’d forgive me was going to drive me mad. Because there’s a girl called Lily who deserves to know she has brothers, and a woman called Helen who deserves to know Reuben’s lies finally caught up with him.

Because doing something is better than doing nothing, even if I’m not sure it’s the right thing.

I take a breath.

‘It’s complicated,’ I say.

Lily rolls her eyes. ‘It’s always complicated. Just tell us.’

‘Lily—’