Cold Grave by Kathryn Fox Read Free Book Online Page A

but spacious and, for once, she was grateful for her thin body and long limbs. Some of the passengers would struggle to fit through the narrow doorway. Space was at a premium, but the stream was hot and strong. The morning’s resuscitation attempt and visit to the morgue didn’t easily wash away. She couldn’t purge the image of Lilly’s grieving family from her mind.
    As water cascaded down her hair and back, her thoughts drifted back to that day in winter at the local football game. The day Miriam disappeared. Despite the weather, her mother decided they should have a picnic during the game. The two sisters were rugged up, in mittens, matching scarves and beanies as they devoured leftover pineapple chicken drumsticks with bread fresh from the bakery. Then a whistle blew and their mother told Anya to look after Miriam. Someone was injured and needed help. With that, the local doctor grabbed her bag and rushed onto the field.
    Miriam quickly became restless and wanted their mother, just like Ben had wanted Anya this morning at the pool. To cheer her up and warm themselves, Anya suggested a race to the goal line. Miriam loved to run and quickly took chase. Anya heard her little sister call her name, but was too focused on reaching the white line to turn around. When she swung around to claim victory, her sister was nowhere in sight.
    Now in the shower, the realisation hit her like a punch to her abdomen. Just like her mother, Anya had left her child to attend an emergency. She had assumed the ship was safe but now she knew anything could have happened. Ben could have been taken. Or worse. The thought made her want to throw up. She slumped against the wall and buckled over. She pictured Lilly’s bruised body. Is that what had happened to Miriam? For the first time in ages, she cried: for her sister, her family, and all the Lilly Chans.
    With wrinkled fingertips, she eventually turned off the taps.
    Stepping out of the shower and towel-drying her hair, she tried to push images of death from her mind. She was here to relax and enjoy some time with Ben. Once dressed, she stood on the balcony with arms stretched across the railing. Dark clouds had collected in the sky, but the wind and patches of the sun injected body into her fine, clean hair. The shorter layers flicked about her face and the breeze massaged the rest. As a child she had always imagined this was what unconditional freedom felt like.
    She heard a sound inside and startled.
    ‘Sorry, ma’am. I knocked but no one answered. My name is Junta; I am your cabin steward. I brought you some more fresh towels and some bottled water.’
    The woman was the same height as her but with wide hips, highlighted by a belt for the navy trousers pulled in tight at the waist. The striped polo shirt stretched over her substantial chest. She smiled, like so many other staff members, with dazzling white teeth. Her skin was dark and her cheeks scarred by past acne.
    ‘Thank you, Junta. I’m Anya.’
    The badge beneath Junta’s name read Jamaica. Judging by the speed with which the cabin had been cleaned, Anya assumed staff worked in pairs, and was curious about who to tip at the end of the cruise. ‘Do you work with anyone else?’
    Junta placed the towels on the bed. ‘No, ma’am, we work alone so we have to work hard. But I have only three weeks to go. Then I return home to my family.’
    ‘How long have you been away?’
    ‘Eight months now. My baby girl turned two last week.’ She busied herself straightening a crease from the corner of the bed. ‘I gonna be home with my baby.’ She beamed.
    Anya knew that could not have been easy. Eight months was a third of the daughter’s life so far.
    Junta quickly glanced around the room, and nodded, satisfied. ‘You have a great day. And if you need anything, you call big old Junta.’
    ‘Thanks again for the towels.’
    Anya admired Junta’s dedication and self-sacrifice and couldn’t help feeling as if she should be more