Becky
Kent, UK
6 July 2018
Becky stands outside the cave waiting to meet Solar’s grandmother, Donna. It’s strange being back in the UK, back in the town where she grew up. Everything seemed otherworldly in Russia with its vast icy caves and strange language. But here it’s achingly familiar. She peers inside towards where her mum had died … and possibly where her sister was born all those years before.
What happened to that baby?
She looks at her watch. It’s past ten now, the time she’s due to meet Donna. Becky had called her from Russia and the conversation had been brief, Donna insisting they meet so they could talk face-to-face.
So here she is.
Becky pulls her cardigan off. The clouds are grey above, but the air is cloyingly warm, filled with electricity.
As she thinks that, a woman approaches. She’s short, walks briskly, her greying hair lifting in the sea breeze. She’s wearing a navy blue raincoat and wellies, a coffee in each hand.
‘I brought provisions,’ she says when she gets to Becky. ‘I presume you’re Becky?’
Becky nods. ‘Thanks for meeting me, Donna.’
‘You look like your mum,’ Donna says briskly. She hands Becky a cup before reaching into her bag and pulling out two chocolate muffins. ‘Fresh out of the oven this morning.’
‘Thank you,’ Becky says with a smile, taking her muffin. ‘They look delicious.’
‘Shall we go into the cave?’ Donna asks. ‘Might be a bit more private in there.’
Becky hesitates. She’s not sure how she feels about returning to the place her mum died. Then she feels raindrops on her head.
‘Well, that decides it,’ Donna says in her matter-of-fact voice. ‘Come on.’
They walk into the cave, the same cave Becky walked into with her mum over a month ago. She feels like a different person now, but she’s not sure who that person is. She’s still trying to figure it out.
‘Shall we sit here?’ Donna asks, gesturing to two chalk boulders that sit side by side, one painted red, another blue. ‘This is where your mum and I sometimes used to sit, looking out to sea and drinking tea.’ She smiles as they sit down. ‘Or often it was gin in your mum’s case. She loved her gin.’
‘Yes, she did, didn’t she?’
‘So,’ Donna says, taking a sip of her coffee and peering sideways at Becky, a nervous look on her face. ‘You’re looking for your sister?’
Becky nods. ‘I thought it was Solar, your Solar.’
Donna sighs. ‘I didn’t know myself I had a granddaughter until a few years ago. Oceane didn’t want me knowing she was pregnant, not with Idris’s child. She didn’t even tell Idris at first. In her sweet little way, she wanted the best for your mum and Idris.’ Donna shakes her head. ‘Always so naive, like I once was. Anyway, she stayed with a friend in France, gave birth just before your mum did. She was planning to put Solar up for adoption but then Idris turned up after finding out and she agreed he could take their baby. Years later, she regretted her decision and tracked them down in Russia. They lived there together for many years. Then Idris did his disappearing act again.’
‘Where’s Idris now?’ Becky asks.
‘Nobody knows. He just left one day when Solar was twelve. But you’re not here to hear all that, are you? You’re here to find your lost sister.’
Becky leans forward, eager for information. ‘I am.’
‘What have you found out so far?’ Donna asks, examining Becky’s face.
‘Nothing. Just that Mum had a baby and you might know what happened.’
Donna nods then reaches into her bag. ‘Part of me didn’t want to have to do this, but I think I have no choice.’
She pulls out a book, handing it to Becky with a deep shaky breath. ‘I think it’s time your mum took over from here.’
Becky looks at the book. It’s The Cave by Thomas Delaney, the book she’d spotted at the little bookshop she’d seen across from her mum’s hospital room.
She frowns, looking up at Donna. ‘This isn’t one of my mum’s books.’
‘No, but it’s her story. She told it to my son Tom a few months before she died.’ She smiles with pride. ‘He’s an author now. He was so inspired by your mum’s success, he decided to have a go himself.’ Becky thinks of the photo she saw of the man holding the cane at the bookshop.
She turns the novel around, reading the blurb.
In THE CAVE, a gripping novel from author Thomas Delaney, we delve into the world of cults and caves as we follow one woman’s journey into a life that spirals quickly out of control.
‘I’m still confused,’ Becky says. ‘It’s a novel, a work of fiction.’
‘To anyone else, it is,’ Donna says. ‘But to those in the know, all you’ll find in there are facts. Read that and you’ll get your mum’s full uncensored story, from the day she first laid eyes on Idris to the weeks after she gave birth.’ Donna smiles sadly. ‘No more lies.’
‘How do you know there aren’t any more lies?’ Becky asks, gripping the book so hard her knuckles turn white.
‘I could see it in your mum’s eyes when I saw her a few months ago. She gave me an advance copy to read. And when I did, there was one truth I thought she’d never tell in there, confirming every line was fact. The only fabrications are the main characters’ names, see?’ she adds, pointing to the name on the first page. ‘Tom renamed your mum as Selma, instead of her real name, Samantha. Plus she charged the name of this town to Queensbay. That was one of the four things she insisted on.’
‘What else did she insist on?’ Becky asks.
‘That Tom make no reference in his bio or press interviews to his time with Idris and the Children of the Current. She needed to be sure no connection was made to her. She also asked that she write the dedication at the front of the book.’
Becky flicks back through the pages to see the dedication.
To B. No more lies.
‘That’s you, Becky,’ Donna says softly. ‘Samantha knew she was dying when I saw her, that it might not be long. She feared you might never get to learn the truth if you refused to see her. This was her way of delivering that truth to you.’
Becky feels tears flood her eyes.
‘Shall I leave you to it then?’ Donna asks, standing up.
Becky nods, unable to get her words out.
‘I’ll be in the café if you need me.’
‘You don’t need to stay,’ Becky says.
‘You might need me to,’ Donna says, looking at the book sadly.
As she walks away, Becky opens the novel and begins to read.
Chapter One
It all started when the boy nearly drowned.
Queensbay was experiencing one of those summer evenings where strangers smile at each other as they pass on the street, everyone in awe that the temperature could be that warm in grey old Britain …