In the Wake

By Helen Trevorrow

“Absolutely brilliant! . . . Once you start this one you won’t want to put it down . . . Great!” —Amazon reviewer, five stars

When a body is discovered in East London, one woman’s murky past comes to light . . .

When remains are found floating in London’s Royal Albert Dock, successful public relations expert Kay Christie is sent to quiet the media—but things get complicated when it emerges that she knew the victim.

As events spiral out of control, Kay learns that those close to her may be harbouring another secret: the truth about a missing girl. Can Kay crack the mystery before her life unravels and she risks losing everything?

In the Wake questions whether we can ever truly leave our pasts behind and explores the lengths that we will go to protect the people that we love.

Praise for Helen Trevorrow’s New Brighton

“A powerful tale of control, love and family.” —M. Sean Coleman, author of The Cuckoo Wood

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Nov 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781504081894

Book preview

1

LONDON, JANUARY 2018

The body was waiting for Kay Christie. Loosely wrapped in slimy black plastic it lay flaccid, puddling the dockside. Three police officers synchronised a sombre lifting motion and moved it inside a flimsy white tent. London’s Excel Conference Centre was often barren and silent but today the daylight barely rose at all.

They woke Kay very early that morning to summon her. She supposed it might have been five o’clock. It was still as dark as night. Not a noise in the house except for the comforting hum of the boiler. Kay was lying in bed dreaming about a soft black dog. She heard the shrill ring of the phone and searched frantically for it in the dark lest she wake the entire house. She was used to bad news telephoning either early or late in the day.

Kay arrived at the back entrance of Excel. She cleared security, where the guard on duty reminded her very much of her own father, and began to walk the echoey length of the central concourse in high heels. In the distance a woman approached like a nervous little mouse. It was Jacquie, Kay’s deputy, with swollen red eyes and black mascara seeping down her cheekbones.

You’re doing a great job, Jacquie, you really are, Kay said, rubbing her back. Kay prided herself on acting like a mother to her team even though Kay and Jacquie were exactly the same age.

I don’t think I am, Jacquie sniffed, resting her head on Kay’s shoulder.

The two women went up to the press office, in a plain room that was numbered simply S17 and from where they regularly worked. It looked out directly over the Royal Albert Dock. Across the River Thames, the Millennium Dome, now the famous O2, loomed like a mechanical albino turtle. Cranes dotted the landscape with new buildings emerging from the concrete. Excel’s central corridor was eerie. A cleaner’s trolley lay abandoned and a black plastic refuse bag tied to its handle ballooned in an invisible breeze. Everywhere seemed to reek of strong cleaning fluid or delicious ship diesel. Kay couldn’t get the overwhelming stench of bleach out of her nostrils.

Kay took a breath, put down her bag and sat herself down opposite Jacquie at a grey Formica desk. She dropped Jacquie’s traumatised gaze and so Jacquie opened her laptop and began to type. The door of S17 crashed open. Kay and Jacquie jumped. In the doorway stood Simon Bell, their most important client and the Marketing Director of Excel. He was their boss, he paid the bills, and much of Kay’s working life revolved around keeping him happy. He arrived in his cycling shorts. It was the weekend but even so couldn’t he have just pulled on a pair of jeans? The world didn’t have his size; everything he wore was either too big or too tight.

Outside, an ambulance pulled up on the pontoon and it cast a flickering blue light across the back wall of S17. Simon went over to the window to take a closer look and while he stood there, he bent a knee to rearrange himself using his finger and thumb.

It’s a bit late for that! He shouted at the ambulance and then smirked at his own joke. Shuffling back to his seat he saw Jacquie was upset, or horrified, by his remark and so he inappropriately rubbed her back. His thumb lingered on Jacquie’s neck a second too long.

Working for an external agency meant that sometimes you or a member of your team got felt up by a client. There was no real comeback. There was no point complaining and no one to complain to. You could resign a client, but then you’ve only hurt yourself. It was easier just to shrug it off and forget about it. Kay always briefed her team to be streetwise, and to avoid time alone with pervy businessmen.

It was eight o’clock in the morning by then so Kay dialled in to the secure crisis conference line as planned and the automated call system requested their names.

Simon, Kay, Jacquie, Kay said, then there was a long beep followed by a burst of classical music. Kay drifted for a moment, trying to place it but she knew nothing about classical music. Kay was as common as muck really underneath her expensive business suit. The line clicked. The CEO and the Operations Director joined the call. Kay heard the engine of the ambulance power down outside. She was aware of people moving outside, working to process the hideous events unfurling in front of them. Kay shivered. She couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Is everyone alright? The CEO asked. He was at home in Surrey in a large house with an indoor swimming pool. His Sunday usually consisted of poached eggs and the Sunday Times. A terrible business. I’m coming in now. I think I should be there in person.

Kay? the Operations Manager asked, I’ve double checked and your dad wasn’t working last night. Kay hummed with equal parts relief and embarrassment. Kay tried to call her father but there was no answer. The year before she had arranged a job for her father on the perimeter security gate checking car passes. He sat there day after day reading the newspaper and listening to sport on a crackling radio. Occasionally, if they were busy, he was upgraded to an internal office watching rows of CCTV on television screens.

Oh, thank God, I was worried and he’s not answering his phone, Kay said, but she knew he was probably drunk somewhere. If he wasn’t working, he wouldn’t get up until lunchtime.

As it turned out it was the new security guard who found the body on only his third day on the job. He had done a last sweep just after three o’clock in the morning and saw a black arc in the water and knew straight away it wasn’t right.

Jesus Christ, Simon said with his lip curling back. Jacquie held her hand up over her mouth, flashing her neat and efficient engagement ring. She blinked repeatedly to hold back tears. She looked pale as though she might faint. Simon Bell shook his head from side to side in utter disbelief. They were only marketing people and not adept at dealing with dead bodies. He’ll be claiming psychological disability benefits from us for the next fifty years. I wish I’d bloody found the body!

The team discussed the tides and the sudden ferocious weather. As The Operations Director described the way the overnight storm might have brought such a large and heavy package into the dock a gust of wind lashed the window and all three of them, Kay, Simon and Jacquie sprang away from it. A banshee-like whistle of wind swooshed its clawed wings around the building.

Usually, it was extremely mundane and boring working on the PR, marketing and communications for the Excel conference centre, but as you might expect with such a huge site in the middle of London now and again things did get washed up or crimes committed. But there had never been anything of this magnitude.

When the police called me this morning, they let slip that they’ve been looking for a missing nurse, said the CEO. In London. A girl in her early twenties. They think it might be her but they haven’t even looked yet so they don’t know.

Oh, God, no, Kay said instinctively, her spine shivering, her anger brewing. A poor young woman.

Yes, a French nurse working in London. That’s all I know.

They’ve not even opened the bag, or whatever it’s wrapped in.

It’s multiple plastic bin bags apparently, said the Operations Director, a stickler for detail.

We can see them from here, squirmed Simon. It’s right down below us. So, they must think that it’s the nurse for a reason. There’s some fucking psychopaths out there.

I suspect that if it is a young woman, in these circumstances the fallout and interest will be much, much bigger than…

It’s bad whoever it is, Kay said, appalled.

Rather than a homeless person? said Simon.

Or a drunk. Or a gangland thing, I was thinking, said the Operations Director.

I know that’s horrible to say but, yes. There are degrees of awfulness, the CEO said.

The CEO tasked Simon with telephoning the owners of Excel, the office of the Qatari businessman Abdul Bin Harashi, for damage limitation. The owners hated negative publicity. There was an immediate need to explain because, after all, the body was found trussed up underneath their luxury boat, The Lusciousness.

All through Christmas, during the present opening, while she was putting up the decorations and even in fleeting moments during the parties, Kay had a persistent nagging feeling. She put it down to worries about work, about the forthcoming Boat Show and the extensive planning that they had put in place. She was worried that using The Lusciousness as the face of the boat show might have been a bad idea. She was uncomfortable drawing too much attention to the owners and she was about to be proved right.

The white tent was put up outside on the southern embankment, and it was here that the ambulance was parked. The body must be inside. Kay felt for that girl, that missing nurse or whoever it might be in there. She felt their pain. A floating pontoon had been erected temporarily for the boat show and The Lusciousness was moored to it. Blue and white police tape extended from the tent and cordoned off access to the pontoon.

An Alsatian was led around sniffing at a pile of rope and ten or so crates that were piled up. Kay loved dogs and the sight of him raised her spirits for a moment before she realised what he was doing. A diver’s head popped up in the blue-black water between The Lusciousness and the pontoon. The water was as thick and dark as poured ink.

The entire scene was overwhelming, and it sent Kay dizzy. Poor Jacquie started crying again, wiping her nose on a tissue that was worn to the bone. It was a million miles away from the work that Kay was planning that day. She had planned a photocall and invited lots of journalists. The press release was about The Lusciousness being the World’s Most Expensive Boat. It was all so trivial now. Kay would send Jacquie home, get her out of this soiled place.

Christ, Jacquie, this is… Kay started to say but then she suddenly stopped. The wind picked up and rattled the glass again. The side of the tent was sucked completely inside-out revealing solidly planted feet. It was the forensic team examining the body. Kay watched, eyes glued to the tent, unable to pull away.

The wind came again angrier than before, turning the inky water into white tipped waves. In an instant the window violently hoisted up the tent and threw it over onto its side where it bounced against the side of the ambulance. White gloved hands reached out frantically from inside to grab it back. Three police officers sprinted over to secure it.

But it was too late. Kay saw the body. Bloated yes, swollen certainly, but the face with a black curl of hair pressed tightly to the fleshy forehead was clear. A dilute orange froth formed around the mouth, but the face was plain to see. The eyes were fixed open. Kay gasped.

Her knees buckled. A high-pitched tone started up in her ears. She collapsed down into a chair, suddenly burning hot and sweating. Jacquie stopped crying, stood up and ran over.

Are you alright, Kay? Jacquie asked, putting her hand on Kay’s arm. Kay shook her head, trying to make sense. It couldn’t be. What she had seen could not be true. She must have imagined it, put her trauma into what was happening. It must have been a kind of mirage. Kay pulled at the neckline of her shirt, she needed air and waved Jacquie away.

I’m fine, Jacquie, thank you. She was not fine.

I think you’re having a reaction of some kind, possibly a panic attack. I’ll get you some water. Jacquie went out of the door heading for the kitchen.

A vein in Kay’s temple was twitching violently.

The dead body in the water.

Kay recognised the face.

It was not a young woman at all. It was not the missing nurse.

It was a man.

And Kay knew him well.

CONFIDENTIAL

FOR REACTIVE ISSUE ONLY

Sunday 7th January 2018

---

Position Statement

---

A discovery was made this morning at the Royal Albert Dock. We are working closely with the relevant authorities to establish the facts of the situation and provide any assistance required.

Simon Bell, Director, Excel Conference and Exhibition Centre said; The safety of our guests and exhibitors is extremely important to us. As soon as the discovery came to light, we acted promptly in assisting the relevant authorities. We have currently suspended all activity on site.

For further information please contact Kay Christie or Jacquie McCoy at Christie Dean PR on 07940009188 or email [e-mail]

2

Still sweating and agitated, Kay was summoned to liaise with the police to align any external communications. Kay only had to get her statement approved by the police, a straightforward task. But the swollen face of the body swirled around her mind as a grotesque memory she could not put aside. Perhaps they knew that Kay knew him? Perhaps Kay was imagining things, having flashbacks. Could she trust her own mind?

Thank you for coming down. Please take a seat, said the policeman. The Detective Inspector stood up and shook Kay’s hand. She froze. What if they suspected? Why would they want to speak to Kay and not the CEO? The Operations Manager sat alongside her. He turned to look at Kay and winked. Why was he reassuring her? Kay realised that her hands were shaking.

The Detective Inspector was a well-groomed, aged public schoolboy. The hair on the back of his head was shaved short enough to strike a match, with a longer, silver sweep styled from the Hollywood golden age.

He gestured for Kay to squeeze into the tiny gap between the table and the wall. Were they trying to make her feel uncomfortable? There was a second police officer, a woman introduced as Detective Sergeant Harvey. Kay’s foot grazed against DS Harvey’s leg when she sat down. Kay blushed with embarrassment. There was small talk happening that Kay wasn’t following properly. She settled herself in the squeezed seat, forced into a corner.

Could it have washed in from the river? the Operations Director asked, pursuing his line of thought about storms and winds and tides. But Kay instinctively knew that it didn’t wash in from anywhere. She knew that the body had been placed there in the dock.

I can’t comment on any of this at this stage. We don’t know anything yet, the DI said. ‘Stop shaking Kay’, she told herself. Pull yourself together! Then Kay thought she needed the toilet, and then patted around her hairline convinced she must be sweating.

It’s not the missing nurse, is it? Kay blurted out. The two police swivelled their heads in Kay’s direction like a pair of owls. They would both be adept at spotting someone with something to hide and here was Kay sweating and chuntering and asking stupid questions that they had just said they couldn’t answer. She was only here to show them her press release about the Boat Show.

Our priority is to identify the body, inform the family and ascertain whether this is going to be a murder investigation, D.S. Harvey said.

Of course, said the Operations Director. Our goal is to ensure that you are able to go about your investigation as smoothly as possible.

Thank you, said DS Harvey, still looking at Kay.

But to the pressing business at hand. Have you got any idea when we can get the halls open again? The Boat Show exhibitors need to get to their stands and set up. The exhibitors understand obviously that there will be a delay but I’d like to be able to give them an expectation of when they’ll be able to get back in.

Oh, I am so sorry to hold them up, the DI said. Please, on behalf of this poor dead person who had the cheek to wash up in your dock, apologise, won’t you, to the boat lot and the Qatari royal family for the hold up.

We’ll keep you updated, said DS Harvey.

Have you got any idea why he was dumped here? Seems so weird in the middle of London? Kay burst out.

He? We haven’t released information on whether the body is male or female yet, DS Harvey said. Shut up Kay, she kept telling herself.

If preliminary findings suggest we do not need further access to the building, then yes you can get it open. It won’t be today, unlikely tomorrow but we will work as fast as we can to get you back to normal and open. We have to rule out third party involvement first. Is that understood? D.S. Harvey asked.

The Operations Director stood up and turned to a diagram of the venue. He drew the cordon on with a squeaky red marker pen. The DI stood up and pointed out different areas of the building. One hand was in his pocket, he looked relaxed and poised. There was a chance that the eastern section of the building could be opened earlier.

DS Harvey turned to Kay.

I’ll be honest—I don’t like working with PR people and I don’t trust the media, DS Harvey said. Her lips were swollen, bee stung from the cold, and she kneaded her bouncy bottom lip with her teeth. It made her seem pensive and thoughtful. Everything she said was measured, and she scanned Kay as if with a laser beam seeing through Kay’s exterior gloss. DS Harvey wore a camel trench coat, open with a tight black sweater underneath. Far too good a coat for dredging up dead bodies. She started to put on black leather gloves. Just try not to make things worse.

Kay suddenly felt better. It came as a reaction to DS Harvey’s dismissal. Better to be presumed an imbecile rather than to be implicated. Kay was happy to be patronised and ignored. She could tolerate a good talking down. She had been doing it all her working life.

Kay took a deep breath. It could not have been him. She had only caught a glimpse. Her mind was playing tricks. If it was him then he would be much older, but the bloating had somehow regressed him.

I’ve worked with PR people before and they’ve got a tendency to over-complicate things, DS Harvey said. Kay was silent and engrossed, thinking about the face. Perhaps DS Harvey took Kay’s silence to mean that she had offended her with her comment. She suddenly softened and tried to explain herself. I’m not saying you personally, Kay. Can I call you Kay?

Yes, she said, coming back to the conversation.

Don’t take it personally, Kay. I’m just saying from my experience. We usually have a communications manager who deals with this, but she’s in St Lucia so I have to do this as well.

Lovely, Kay said. St Lucia, I mean. If only she could get another look at the body. She had only ever seen one other dead body in her life. Three months ago. Her own mother. But in comparison this one was like a photographic negative. Kay’s mother was hollowed out, not bloated. She couldn’t believe her mother could get so thin, so concave. Kay guessed every corpse was different but his face gargantuan and distended was shocking.

Is it lovely? I’ve never been.

Absolutely beautiful, very green, nice people, Kay said. She had been there with Julia. She had the idea that police usually holidayed on the Costa del Sol, but not these two, far too well dressed. They were not what Kay had been expecting at all. She imagined a pursuit holiday for him, art, Tour de France, or rugby in Paris. As for her, Kay wondered, the ice hotel? If only Kay could get out on to the dockside, by the pontoon, she could sneak another look at the face maybe? Or would the ambulance have taken the body away? Her journalist friend, Belinda Salas might know, if she was working on the news desk today.

I should go there sometime, DS Harvey said.

Kay wondered if the tent was still there. The wind was getting up again. Kay could hear it screeching through the metal fixings of the building.

An image of DS Harvey in a bikini flashed into Kay’s mind, immediately followed by an image of the bloated distended body. Have they taken the body away yet? In the ambulance? Or is it still on, the...? Kay stopped.

Say what you like to media about the Boat Show, but please leave any details about the investigation to us, and divert to me, personally, DS Harvey said giving Kay her business card. And just one more thing,

Sure.

Your dad?

Yes. Kay answered.

He works here, I understand? DS Harvey said, and

Reviews for In the Wake

[nicx27 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I liked the sound of In The Wake as soon as I read the blurb. A psychological thriller set around the media world sounded like something a little bit different.Kay Christie is the media link. She has her own PR company and is undertaking PR for the Excel centre in London and more specifically for a boat show. But a body is found in the water and when Kay catches a glimpse of the victim she realises she knows them, a fact that really scares her. There's also another facet to the story, that of a missing French nurse, who we learn about right at the beginning. Where this strand comes into the storyline isn't clear at first but becomes apparent later on.I did find the early parts of In The Wake a little difficult to get into. I don't know why, I just couldn't initially gel with the style and I found some of the dialogue a little awkward until I read on and got used to the writing. And I have to say that I think all the characters were unlikeable in varying degrees, selfish and sometimes downright unpleasant.But....before you start to think that I didn't like this book, think again. I actually found it quite compelling reading, watching the characters press the self-destruct button over and over. There are numerous twists and turns, sometimes surprising, but not always, more like leading the reader down a winding path towards the truth.It's hard-hitting in places with sexual attacks and alcohol playing a large part, and also the author doesn't hold back when talking about the sexual activity in the book. It surprised me in many ways. The storyline didn't go as I expected and the whole feel of the book was quite unusual. I found myself drawn back to it all the way through and thought it was a really good read.