No Escape: The most addictive, gripping thriller with a shocking twist. Lucy Clarke

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СКАЧАТЬ against the biting wind. At her centre was a hollow, raw feeling, as if her insides had been carved out. Kitty had opened the door, taken one look at Lana and tugged her indoors, saying, ‘Jesus! What the fuck’s happened?’

      At the time, Kitty had been renting a poky studio-flat in Ealing above a florist, and she’d led Lana into the cluttered main room where a double bed heaved with cushions and crochet throws. Kitty’s clothes hung on two rails at the side of the room and her shoes were thrown in a trunk at the end of the bed. Her dressing table was covered with make-up, body lotions and bottles of perfume, and the whole place had the feel of a costume department.

      Kitty plucked a fleecy dressing gown from the back of the door and wrapped it around Lana, who was trembling all over. She squeezed Lana’s red hands. ‘You’re freezing. What’s happened? Are you okay?’

      ‘Can I stay?’ Lana asked, her voice edged with tears.

      ‘Of course! What’s going on? Sorry it’s so cold in here. Pissing landlord hasn’t fixed the heating,’ Kitty said, moving a hand to the plug-in radiator where two thongs and a tea towel were drying. ‘I’ll do us a hot-water bottle. And tea.’

      A few minutes later they were sitting in bed with the covers pulled up, a hot-water bottle tucked between their feet. Lana cupped a mug of steaming tea to her chest, feeling her heart pounding against it. A tension headache pulsed at her temples as she began to talk. She told Kitty everything – about discovering the envelope hidden in her father’s room, about the truth it contained, about how her father had no words to deny what he’d done.

      Kitty listened with her eyes fixed on Lana’s, her lips pressed together. Neither of them drank their tea.

      By the time Lana finished talking, her face was streaked with tears. ‘I’ll never forgive him.’

      ‘No!’ Kitty had said suddenly, sitting forward. ‘Don’t say that. He made a mistake. A terrible mistake. But you mustn’t hate him. You mustn’t!’ She spoke with such vehemence that her hands shook, a dribble of cold tea spilling onto the duvet.

      Lana pushed the memory away now. She couldn’t think about that day. Not out here. When she looked up, she realized everyone was watching her, still waiting for an answer.

      ‘Spin of a globe,’ Kitty said, coming to Lana’s rescue. ‘That’s how we chose the Philippines, wasn’t it?’

      Lana nodded.

      ‘I spun it – and Lana closed her eyes and pointed.’

      Heinrich laughed. ‘Really? That’s brilliant.’

      It was true – at least in part. It might not have been why they’d left, but it was how they’d chosen to come here. Lana had been sitting cross-legged on Kitty’s bed with the globe in front of her. She’d closed her eyes and felt the lightest breath of air move against her fingertips as the globe spun. Then, as it slowed, she pressed her forefinger against its cool surface.

      When she opened her eyes, her fingertip was placed in the centre of a mass of islands near the equator. She lifted her hand and read the name aloud: ‘The Philippines.’

      *

      ‘More drinks?’ the waitress asked, a tray propped against her hip.

      The bar was crammed now, voices clamouring to be heard above the thudding music.

      Aaron glanced at the watch on his thick wrist, then pushed back his chair and stood. ‘I think we’re done here, thank you.’

      When the waitress left, Aaron turned to Lana and Kitty and said, ‘We’ve got some rum back at ours that needs drinking. Gonna join us?’

      *

      Lana and Kitty wove behind the others with their arms linked, Lana trying to put little weight on her injured ankle. She’d tugged her hairband free, and her hair fell loose over one shoulder in thick waves of amber.

      Ahead of them the group came to a stop by the shoreline. Lana could feel the effect of the beers she’d drunk – had it been five, or perhaps six? In the darkness she watched as Aaron untied a rope from a wooden post. The other end was attached to a small metal dinghy with an outboard engine, which he walked out into the shallows.

      ‘What are you doing?’ Kitty asked, a light slur to her question.

      ‘Preparing your taxi.’

      Shell, Heinrich and Denny kicked off their flip-flops and waded into the harbour. They climbed into the dinghy, which rocked from side to side, sending small waves rippling to shore.

      ‘Where are we going?’ Kitty asked, a grin spreading across her face.

      ‘Back to our place,’ Aaron told her.

      ‘Your place is … a boat?’

      In the moonlight, Lana caught Aaron’s smile.

      ‘Come on,’ Denny called from the dinghy. ‘You’ll like it, we promise.’

      Lana shrugged, then slipped off her sandals. The seabed was slimy beneath her soles and she tried not to think about what could be lurking in the dark, silent water.

      It was a squeeze on board and Lana sat on a damp plank of wood, squashed between Shell and Kitty with her satchel and sketchbook on her lap.

      Aaron yanked at the start cord and the motor spluttered to life.

      The smell of diesel and fish rose from the harbour as they motored forward, clouds of cooler air brushing their skin. With the weight of them all, the dinghy sank close to the waterline, and Lana thought that if she reached a hand over the side she’d be able to trail her fingers across the surface.

      The night was still and quiet as they passed fishing bangkas, which looked like colourful dugout canoes, drifting on their anchors. The others talked amongst themselves in an easy rhythm, but Lana and Kitty said nothing. They stared ahead as, through layers of darkness, the shadow of a yacht began to emerge, moonlight illuminating the curve of a dark-blue hull.

      Lana widened her gaze to absorb it more fully. The yacht was elegant and long, with two masts standing guard. In the moonlight the name of the yacht, painted in a curling white script, came into focus. The Blue.

      Lana turned those two words over on her tongue and, as she did so, a surge of something she couldn’t quite define – excitement, anticipation, fear – pushed through her heart.

      *

      They were sitting towards the back of the yacht – the cockpit, someone called it, which had made Kitty giggle – drinking tall glasses of rum and Coke. Lana held a joint between her fingers that she couldn’t remember being passed, and music played from a speaker somewhere on deck. The yacht rocked gently, like a lullaby from the sea, and Lana felt her body relaxing into its rhythm.

      Shell had given them a tour below deck, showing them the main living area, which she called the saloon, and the narrow galley kitchen that was neatly kept except for a stack of empty beer bottles on the side. There were three cramped cabins at the front of the yacht, which contained bunks, and then two slightly larger cabins at the rear with double beds where Aaron and Denny slept.

      Lana СКАЧАТЬ