Soul Beach by Kate Harrison Read Free Book Online Page B

date with a personal trainer, and I’m eating nothing in sympathy.
    Despite the sun, I can’t stop shivering. On Soul Beach, the virtual rays are so strong they make my face tingle.
    ‘Amazing weather, isn’t it? Like being on holiday,’ she says.
    I nod half-heartedly.
    ‘What’s up, chick?’
    I shrug. ‘The usual.’
    ‘You know . . . maybe your mum’s right, yeah? About giving the counselling a go. Because this is not getting any better on its own, is it?’
    I stare at her. How dare she? But before I can say it, she holds up her hand.
    ‘Sorry, sorry. Forget it. None of my business. I couldn’t possibly understand, etcetera, etcetera. Pretend I never mentioned it.’
    It’s not like Cara to back down. ‘Am I that bad?’
    She tries to smile. ‘I don’t have any other mates with murdered sisters to compare you to, and I’d be a crap friend if I got the hump because you’re snappy. But I do miss the old you. The one that never stopped taking the piss.’
    I try to take in what she’s said. ‘I miss the old me, too.’
    She puts down her Coke and puts her arms around me. Usually that would be enough to make me cry, but worse than that, I feel nothing. Well, I feel her patting my back like you’d pat a baby to soothe it, but I’m separate somehow, like someone in a gallery looking at a painting of a girl comforting her grieving friend.
    Eventually she pulls back. There are tears in her eyes.’ ‘Better?’ she asks.
    ‘Yes,’ I lie.
    ‘It’ll get easier. We’re young, Alice. Things can’t stay like this for ever. One day something wonderful will happen that’ll make you forget about everything else, and then you’ll know you’re getting better.’ She smiles at me.
    I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m not looking for something wonderful in this world any more. Because I already sense that I’ve found all that I need on the shore at Soul Beach . . .

18
    After school, I sneak in through the back door, hoping to find something in the fridge to fuel my next walk along the sand.
    My parents are lying in wait in the kitchen. Uh oh.
    Dad hasn’t changed out of his suit, and is sitting at the breakfast bar with a pile of paperwork. Mum has that ‘fresh from the gym’ glow, even though I know she’s been at group most of the afternoon. Mental workouts are so much more stimulating.
    ‘Hi,’ I say, trying to sound rushed. ‘You wouldn’t believe how much homework I’ve got for tonight, so I’ll get on with—’
    ‘We need to talk about Meggie,’ Dad says. I freeze.
    How did they find out? I log out of my account every time I leave my room, even if it’s only to use the loo, and I’ve adjusted my chair so it’s impossible to see what’s on the screen if you peer through the crack in the doorway, as my mother often does before she goes to bed.
    ‘Oh?’ I say.
    Mum pulls out one of the stools and I climb onto it. I haven’t sat here since I was nine and she used to make me proper breakfasts, with toast fingers and boiled eggs. I went through a skinny phase and she wanted to feed me up. It worked a bit too well, to be honest.
    ‘They’ve got him, finally,’ Mum says.
    ‘He hasn’t been charged, Bea. They’re just—’
    I interrupt him. ‘They’ve arrested Tim?’
    I feel the blood drain from my head. It’s a good job I am sitting down, or I’d be on the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
    My parents are nodding, my mother more enthusiastically than my father, even though Mum is all about human rights: marching against the war, against extraordinary rendition, against the Burmese government. Yet she’s the one who decided Tim was guilty straight away.
    I can’t believe it. There is nothing in the world I want more than for Meggie’s killer to be brought to justice. But this isn’t justice.
    ‘Fran from Family Liaison called,’ Mum says.
    ‘She said not to read too much into it,’ Dad adds hastily
    ‘Come on, Glen. Why else would she call if they don’t