He feels a sudden surge of adrenaline. When he was a cub crime reporter, his boss told him to always push back at the first opportunity.

‘Who are you, then?’ the barman asks.

‘I write books. Crime thrillers.’

‘Should I have heard of you?’

Jake hesitates before telling him his name. ‘Big in Finland,’ he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

Was it a mistake to reveal his name? He’s carrying a little extra around the middle these days, but he’s more than capable of looking after himself.

The barman wipes the table one final time and looks him in the eye.

‘Then I suggest you fuck off to Finland, Jake.’

15

Kate

When Kate regains consciousness, she’s staring up at the sun, her whole body swaying. Faces peer down at her, kind teenage faces full of fear and worry. Her head hurts. It takes her a few moments to realise that she’s lying on her back on the floating platform in the middle of the harbour.

‘She’s awake,’ one of them announces, as if the kettle’s just boiled. She loves kids, their matter-of-factness.

‘Here’s the lifeboat,’ another says.

The lifeboat? For her? Kate closes her eyes again. Everyone will be watching from the shore, from the café. She likes to observe others, not be the centre of attention herself.

‘I’m alright,’ she says, trying to get up. But her head starts to throb and her legs buckle beneath her so she lies back down again.

‘It’s OK,’ one of the teenage girls says. ‘We’ve called for help.’

‘What happened?’ Kate whispers. All she can remember is swimming out to the platform. Why has she got such a splitting headache?

‘I think you had a cramp attack, almost drowned,’ the girl says, glancing admiringly at a boy standing next to her. ‘Ned dived in, brought you onto the platform. He’s done a life-saving course.’

Good old Ned. Kate will thank him later, when she’s feeling stronger. Rob will kill her when he hears about this. And Bex. She’ll be here in a few hours, telling Kate she’s become a liability. She never used to be accident prone, but the stats aren’t looking good. Two in six months now. At least this was only cramp.

She turns her head towards the harbour, watching as the inshore lifeboat comes alongside the platform. She can’t help feeling she’s wasting good people’s time. She was too tired. Shouldn’t have gone for a swim. Stretch will be beside himself, wondering where she is.

As she feared, there are crowds of rubberneckers on the beach, observing the scene unfold. And a man on his own, up by the café, looking in her direction through a pair of binoculars.

16

Silas

‘This new facial-recognition software is officially shit, sir,’ says DC Strover, sitting back at her desk. ‘I assume it’s not going live anytime soon.’