As she joined the queue of waiting tourists, Ness felt bewildered. There was a marked changed in the way people were behaving towards her and she had absolutely no idea why. Take David Brown, for instance. He’d been so friendly before, but this morning there had been a noticeable chilliness about him. It wasn’t simply that he was trying to remain reserved and professional as the family solicitor; instinct told Ness that it was more than that. He’d barely been able to look at her when she’d met him by the causeway – and as soon as the official legalities had been concluded, he’d departed with the very briefest of farewells.
Then there were the women in the tea shop who, despite Lucy’s warm introduction, had barely managed to say more than a civil hello. And the girl with the plaits, Fern, had looked as though she wanted to stab her with a cake fork. Perhaps Ness could have put this antipathy down to worry about the future of the island, but having met Jamie she felt they ought to be thanking their lucky stars he hadn’t got his pudgy hands on the place instead. Surely they could see that if Lucy had inherited the island it would only have been a matter of minutes before her brother would have schemed and bullied his way into taking charge? Ness had only known her cousins a short while, but already it was obvious to her how the dynamic in that family worked. Ness could understand the cold reception and suspicious looks from those closest to the family, but when she’d checked out earlier, even Val Brown had been positively glacial.
Ness frowned. Last night the hotel receptionist had been so welcoming and kind. She’d even upgraded the room free of charge and taken the time to recount a potted history of the island. In contrast, this morning Val had struggled to even go through the formalities of checking out – and Ness had been sure that the two women in the back office were whispering about her. Unless there was something in the water making her have paranoid delusions, the whole town felt hostile. The sun might be out and the sea glittering but the atmosphere in St Pirran was decidedly frosty. Something had changed and she hadn’t a clue what it was or how she could put it right.
Was it her imagination or were the skippers of the tripping boats also glowering in her direction? There was one there now, shooting Ness a black look while he readied his little blue vessel for the journey to the island. As her queue wound its way closer to the pontoon she realised that she was going to end up on his boat.
Great. If she made it back across without being forced to walk the plank then it would be a miracle. For such a handsome guy (a dead ringer for Brad Pitt in his pre-Angelina heyday, but with much blonder hair), he certainly had a face on him that could curdle milk.
She edged her way down the steps and onto the pontoon as, one by one, the holidaymakers were directed into the boats. Sure enough, by the time Ness was at the front of the queue it was Brad Pitt’s turn to accept passengers. Just her luck, she was the first on. Although Brad looked as though he’d like to turn her away, the lure of a couple of pounds was fortunately strong and Ness stepped on board. He didn’t hold his hand out to steady her, though. Ness was used to dive boats and more than able to hop over the gunnel and adjust her balance to the shifting water, but it was interesting to notice that this lack of manners wasn’t repeated with the rest of his customers, male or female.
So it wasn’t her imagination then. Fine. Maybe Lucy would be able to shed some light on all this? If not, then let them carry on until they got used to the fact that she was here and she wasn’t about to run away. Ness raised her chin and fixed her gaze on her island, floating in the sea beyond. She hadn’t come this far to be intimidated by a bunch of stroppy locals.
With the passengers now seated, the skipper cast off. Before long the boat was zipping across the bay towards the island. In spite of the hostility she could sense in the eyes that were now shielded behind his black sunglasses, Ness ignored the skipper and focused instead on the short journey. Her heart lifted as the craft picked up speed and danced across the waves. She loved the space and sense of freedom that came with heading out on the open water. For as long as she could remember she had been drawn to the sea. Maybe it was in her blood? After all, Addy had grown up on the water and boating must have been a huge part of his life. Not that you would ever have known this in his later years, given that he’d avoided the sea almost as if he had an aversion to it, instead preferring the Californian desert or the wilds of Montana.
The ride across the bay to the island’s small and, she now noticed with alarm, crumbling quay only took five minutes – but it was long enough for Ness to enjoy the wind in her hair. It was a shame there wasn’t enough money for her to buy her own boat. Did this mean she’d have to rely on the fishermen and the sullen hunk here when the tide was in? Independent to her last cell, Ness didn’t like this idea at all. She’d rather swim across than be beholden to anyone.
“Here we are, everyone: St Pirran’s Island,” the skipper was saying, as he popped the engine into neutral and hopped out onto the worn quayside. “Home to one of the best tea shops in Cornwall and a huge variety of natural life too, from seals to puffins. Untouched for centuries, this island is a sanctuary – for wildlife and for people. Let’s hope it always stays that way.”
As he said this, the skipper pushed his shades up into his thick blond hair and stared straight at Ness. What on earth had she done to inspire such antipathy? Then he turned away and busied himself mooring up and helping passengers to disembark. Again, no steadying hand was offered to Ness and she made the jump across unassisted and feeling perplexed. Was this guy a good friend of Jamie’s and upset on his behalf? It was an explanation of sorts but Ness wasn’t buying it. She’d only met her cousin once but he didn’t strike her as the kind who’d socialise with fishermen. He’d only just about managed to lower himself sufficiently to speak to the local solicitor.
The sun was still high in the sky and although it was late afternoon Ness grew hot as she trudged up the steep route to the castle. The worn path circled the lower keep and then passed through a ruined gateway, threading across a massive expanse of grass where today people were picnicking and enjoying the sunshine or seated at the café tables tucking into cream teas. It was a stunning spot, Ness decided, and maybe they could do something here? A concert? Or a play? Or glamping?
She laughed. Lord, she’d not even been on the island twenty-four hours and already she was thinking of ways to raise funds! Maybe she should settle in first and get a feel for the place before she started making plans? On the other hand, she’d seen the bleak accounts and the concerned expression on David Brown’s face, and she knew that she wouldn’t have the luxury of waiting to see how everything panned out. Things were probably going to get bumpy. She was bound to ruffle feathers, tread on toes and generally mix lots more metaphors, but if Pirran Island was to escape the developers then Ness would have to act soon.
Ignoring the impressive castle door that didn’t open, Ness made her way around the southern tower and through the back door. Inside, all was dark and cool; for a moment she stood motionless while her eyes adjusted. The longcase clock tick-tucked from the shadows and somewhere a melody was being played on a piano, the haunting notes drifting through the empty hallway like a sigh. Following the music, Ness found herself crossing the Small Hall, where the steady gazes of the portraits seemed to monitor her, and walking into a dark passageway that led deep into the castle. Just as before, she felt as though she was wandering into an intricate labyrinth – and yet the notes drew her deeper until she pushed open a door and stepped into a beautiful room filled with sunshine. A grand piano stood in the centre of a polished floor, like a stately galleon afloat on an oaken sea, and curved shelves lined the walls, weighed down with piles of yellowing sheet music and instruments. Seated on the piano stool, his legs not even long enough to reach the pedals, was a little blond boy whose fingers were flying over the keys. The concentration on his face was matched only by that on Lucy’s as she turned the pages. Ness felt herself sink into the magic of the melody as it rose and fell like the tide, then soared an
d swept in perfect unison with the seabirds outside. It was only when the final notes died away that she realised she’d been holding her breath and that tears were in her eyes.
Lucy looked at Ness and smiled. It was the first smile Ness had seen for a while and the relief of seeing a friendly face was immense.
“Did you like it?”
“Like it?” Ness shook her head. “I loved it. That was beautiful. It matches this place, if that makes sense?”
Her cousin looked pleased. “I’m glad you think so. That was Spring Tide, the first movement of the Island Suite. Uncle Armand wrote it in this very room and at this piano.”
“Wow.” Ness was struck by a sudden sense of legacy and her heart lurched. Was she up to the task of guarding it? There was so much more at stake here than bricks and mortar. “I think I’ve heard it before.”
“I expect you have,” Lucy agreed. “It’s his best-known piece and it’s been used in quite a few adverts – luckily for me, since I’ve inherited the rights! He was still enjoying the success of this when he began his symphony. Or so I’ve been told. Of course, he never finished the symphony, if it even existed.”
She collected up the music and gently shut the piano lid, while the little boy swivelled on the stool and swung his feet.
“Why wasn’t it finished?” Ness asked, struck that – just like her father – Armand had squandered a huge talent.
“Nobody really knows,” Lucy replied sadly. “I asked him, of course, but he never told me. I don’t think he ever told anyone. It’s such a shame because he was poised for great things and the music world was waiting to see what came next. He’s often been described as the greatest lost talent of the twentieth century.”
“But if he started it then it must be somewhere,” Ness said.
“If he started it. Big if, but yes I suppose so. And what a find it would have been! But I can promise you, Ness, there’s nothing left behind. I cleared his rooms and it would break your heart to see how few possessions he actually had.”
“My father was exactly the same.” There was a lump in Ness’s throat. When she’d discovered that the evidence of Addy’s existence amounted to little more than a couple of rucksacks full of empty tobacco pouches, tee shirts and jeans as well as the crumpled heap of his beloved motorbike, it really had broken her heart. It wasn’t a lot to show for the vibrant, infuriating, charismatic man she’d loved so much.
“Well, there you go. Must be a family thing. I can’t say I own much myself,” Lucy remarked. Then she pulled a wry face. “Jamie tries to make up for it though!”
Ness had only met Jamie once but she could see Lucy was right. The way his eyes had lit up when he’d inherited the Steinway said it all. Ness, who’d lived a nomadic life with Addy and had never truly had a home to call her own, found his avarice repellent.
“Until I inherited this place I didn’t have a lot either,” she told Lucy. “You’re right. It must be a Penwellyn thing.”
Saying this gave Ness a glow she’d not experienced before. This was what it was to have family then? Shared traits and history linked her to her cousins, and slowly but surely being here would uncover even more of her past. Her roots were here.
“That was brilliant!” exclaimed the little boy, still swivelling on the stool. His freckled face beamed at Lucy. “Can I come again, please?”
“You can come as much as you like, Josh,” said Lucy, with a wink at Ness, “at least while we still have the piano, anyway.”
“Cool!” The child slipped off the stool. “I’m going to find Merryn now. Dad said I could go back with him. He’ll be at the quay.”
“We’ll come with you,” said Lucy. “I expect he’d like to meet Ness.”
“Merryn lives at Grace Note Bay,” Lucy reminded her as the three of them made their way back through the castle and across the courtyard. “He’s our handyman and water taxi. He’s great fun and I can’t imagine life without him.”
By now they were walking under the gate and out past the ruined tower. The grassy slopes below the crumbling walls were dotted with picnic tables and the last few customers were still enjoying tea and cakes. The tide was high now and boats were busy in the bay or mooring up. Among them was the little blue vessel she’d come over on; stroppy Brad Pitt was sitting on the bow fiddling with a rope, while a girl with long braids helped trippers in.
Lucy waved delightedly at Brad. “There he is! Hey! Merryn! Wait up! There’s one more here!”
As Josh sprinted across the grass and towards the quay, Ness’s heart plummeted. So this was the guy her uncle had wanted to stay on the island? The one who’d looked as though he wanted to throw her overboard. Just her luck.
Lucy turned to Ness. “Come and say hi. I’ll introduce you.”
Ness hesitated. Braids had also glared at her earlier on, as had the elderly gardener and the old woman sitting at the stern. They’d all been in the tea room when Lucy had given her the tour, and their welcome couldn’t have been colder if the freezer door had been left wide open.
“Ness? What is it?” pressed Lucy.
She took a deep breath. “This probably sounds silly, and you’re bound to tell me it’s all in my imagination, but I get the distinct feeling that your friend Merryn isn’t very pleased I’m here. I have no idea what his problem is either, since I’ve never even met him before. And the girl with the plaits – Fern, was it? She was really off when you introduced us earlier. Are they good friends with Jamie? Is that what it is?”
Lucy laughed. “Oh Lord! Hardly!” Then, seeing that Ness was still frowning, she sighed. “Look, I’m not really sure if I should say this, and it’s probably none of my business, but this is a small town and people talk, you know? In a place like this, everyone knows everyone.”
Ness understood. Having lived on a tiny Caribbean island, she knew exactly how gossip spread in a small community.
“So you’re telling me I’m not imagining it then? I really am public enemy number one?” She raised her eyes to the blue sky. She’d only been here two minutes and already she’d upset the town? Seriously? “Go on then. What have I done? Sold the island to Disney?”
“Close,” said Lucy, and now her blue eyes were narrowed. “How about Max Reynard?”
Hearing that name was like a jolt to Ness’s system. She saw again those compelling grey eyes and felt the insistent pressure of his mouth on hers. That kiss had been haunting her, and remembering it now made her pulse race.
“You know Max?”
“Everyone knows him. The question is, how do you know him?”
Ness wasn’t sure how to answer this. I met him in a bar and almost slept with him didn’t sound great and, although she might be misjudging her cousin here, Lucy didn’t exactly look like the type who picked men up for wild nights of sex.
In any case, her answer didn’t matter because Lucy then added, “You were seen on the beach, Ness, so there’s no point denying you know him. It’s obvious you’re more than friends.”
The town spies had been out in force then. Val from the hotel probably.
“I’m not going to deny it,” Ness said. “I met him in the bar, we had a drink and then we went for a walk. I’m a big girl; I can do that. And before you ask, yes I was kissing him. Did I sleep with him? No.”
Lucy turned scarlet. “I wasn’t going to ask that. I wondered if he was a friend.”
Ness shrugged. “He was friendly, he’s attractive and it was fun, but he got called away and I haven’t heard from him since – and probably never will.”
“You really don’t know him?”
What was this? “I really don’t,” Ness replied. “Not that I need to justify myself to anyone.”
Her cousin seemed to turn even redder, which a moment earlier Ness would have thought impossible. “I know. Sorry. It’s just… just… well, we thought…”
“What?”
Lucy looked miserable. “We thought you knew him and that you were planning something together.” She swallow
ed. “The thing is, Max Reynard isn’t a holidaymaker. He’s a property developer and one of the biggest in the country. He owns Reynards. You must have heard of them?”
Max was a property developer? A horrible cold feeling started to spread from her core right to the tips of her fingers and toes as a nasty suspicion took root.
Lucy pushed her hair behind her ears. “He’s got a few properties in the town – second homes mostly, and all far too expensive for locals. He’s been wanting to buy the island for months and I know he was talking to Jamie about it. When he was seen with you yesterday, we all thought…” Her voice tailed off. “Well, you can probably guess.”
“You thought I was planning to sell the island to him,” Ness answered. She could tell from Lucy’s face that this was exactly what her cousin had thought. Now she understood why Merryn and Fern and just about everyone else had been so frosty.
Lucy bit her lip. “I’m so sorry if we’ve jumped to conclusions.”
Ness could see how this must have looked. Almost as bad as it felt to realise that the gorgeous man who’d had you melting in his arms had been playing you for a fool. Max Reynard must have seen her coming, waited for her and then picked his moment. It wasn’t Ness he wanted: it was the castle. How stupid she’d been. He must have been laughing because she’d made it so easy for him, hadn’t she? Thank goodness Val had interrupted them, otherwise Ness knew for sure that she’d have ended up feeling even more foolish.
Max had been using her. He was nothing but a cynical manipulator and she was an idiot. That kiss had meant nothing to him.
The Island Legacy Page 15
