The Island

by Mary Grand

  Suddenly she felt and heard a cold, whistling breeze from the corrugated roof. In her head she knew it was just one of the many draughts in this place, but she shivered nonetheless and looked around nervously. She couldn’t help remembering Maddie’s words about ghosts whispering. She wondered what the ghosts would be saying now.

  She walked around the building but there was nothing to see here, and once outside she was glad to lock the door and walk away. Out here the sun shone, warming her face, and the ghosts were silent.

  7

  Saturday 20 August

  Juliet woke early on the Saturday of Rosalind’s coming home meal. Today’s wasn’t a pleasant heat; it clawed at her, and even at this time, the air was too thick. Despite having all the windows open and sleeping on top of her duvet, she’d been too hot, and she was relieved to get up and have a shower. Today was too warm even for her to wear jeans and she reluctantly found a plain cotton skirt, knowing Rosalind was going to tease about her white legs.

  She went downstairs to find her mother already up.

  ‘Oh, Lola’s here,’ said Juliet, spotting the dog in her basket.

  ‘Yes, Mira dropped her off first thing. Rhys has meetings and she’s meant to be visiting people. I have to say she looked done in, and I wanted her to go back and rest. I’m glad she’s staying here tonight after the meal. I hope she’ll have a lie-in in the morning.’

  ‘Is Rhys staying as well?’

  ‘Mira wasn’t sure. He doesn’t have any services tomorrow, but he has this routine of praying up at the church at midnight on a Saturday night. If he decides to keep to that he will probably go back to the vicarage after to sleep so as not to disturb us. By the way, I have invited Anwen to stay as well seeing as she is cooking for us.’

  ‘Oh right, does she want to sleep in the spare bed in my room?’ Juliet offered.

  ‘Thank you, but Cassie has already offered for her to sleep in her room as they are quite good friends now. There is that fold up bed in there which is very comfy, Cassie said she could use that.’

  ‘Oh, okay, if you’re sure?’

  ‘Yes, I think that should work out. Now, I wonder, could you walk Lola for me? I’m going to the supermarket in Newport with Cassie. Anwen has given me a very comprehensive list.’

  ‘You’re lucky she’s free on a Saturday night. Where does she work?’

  ‘In a pub in Newport. She’s working from early this morning until teatime. Lots of lunch covers apparently, but she wangled tonight off. Oh, I forgot, we’re dropping some things off at the charity shops as well, so we’ll be a while.’

  ‘I’ll get out now with Lola before it gets too hot.’

  ‘Good, and then I’ve made a list of things that need doing…’

  Juliet glanced down at the list. ‘Good grief, Mum, it’s only family!’

  ‘I know, but I want the house to look perfect.’

  Juliet smiled at her mother, pleased she was able to get lost in something for a few hours at least. ‘Of course, it’ll be lovely. Right, I’m off.’

  Lola came running over, tail wagging madly.

  To Juliet’s surprise, Rosalind was up early and offered to go with her.

  Only a few other dog walkers were on the beach at that time in the morning. Lola had a wonderful time running, rolling in seaweed.

  On the way back, Juliet’s phone alerted her to a text. She felt her heart beat faster when she saw that it was from Gabriel.

  If you are free, can you come to meet me this evening?

  * * *

  I have the family meal for Rosalind.

  * * *

  After? Please. Nothing heavy.

  * * *

  Okay I’ll text you when the meal is over.

  * * *

  Bring my heart…

  She smiled.

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked Rosalind.

  ‘Nobody.’

  ‘You’re blushing… is it Gabriel? He’s not bad-looking, and that hint of a French accent is very sexy. They must be minted owning the vineyard and the lodges up there, all very posh. I’m surprised he hasn’t been snapped up. How old is he?’

  ‘Thirty-nine, same as Cassie.’

  ‘So, is he asking you out then?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a date, no, he just wants a chat.’

  Rosalind grabbed the phone. ‘Tonight… eek! Bring my heart!’

  Juliet laughed, opened her bag and unzipped the inner pocket. ‘That’s the heart he means. It was a little gift.’

  ‘A heart and it means nothing? Sorry, I don’t buy that!’

  Juliet zipped the set of car keys carefully back in her bag, saying, ‘Let’s get back, Mum has a load of things to be done.’

  When they arrived back home, Juliet found her mother had returned and started to work her way through the list of housework. Rosalind, she noticed, quietly disappeared, and so did Cassie.

  Soon, she heard the sound of the piano drifting from the music room and realised Cassie had escaped into the music room. Usually, she would be frustrated at her sister not helping, but today there was something about her sister’s playing that grabbed hold of Juliet and made her listen.

  Juliet walked quietly to the music room, stood in the doorway and listened to her sister’s playing, transfixed. Cassie was sat at the piano, her eyes closed, at one with her music. Cassie’s first instrument was the violin, but her piano playing was just as beautiful. Maybe for the first time in her life, Juliet stood truly in awe at her sister’s ability. She felt a wave of guilt, how had she missed this? Was it the case that in the eyes of family you could remain a caterpillar and only the world saw the butterfly?

  Suddenly, Juliet saw Cassie’s face crease with pain, and she snatched hands away from the piano. The room for a second was silent and then with a violent crash as Cassie slammed down the lid.

  She looked over at Juliet and their eyes met. Juliet was shocked at the pain and sadness she saw in her sister’s eyes, but there was something else there that stopped her going over to her. There was anger at being exposed and it felt voyeuristic rather than empathetic to stay. Juliet turned away.

  Her mother’s voice cut through the awkwardness telling them lunch was ready.

  Rosalind was already there, and they sat together at the kitchen table in an awkward silence.

  Juliet picked up a cheese sandwich. ‘You know, the day you came home from the maternity hospital, Dad made these for everyone,’ Juliet said to Rosalind to try to lift the mood. ‘Mira and I drew a huge a banner and coloured it in. I guess it kept us out of Dad’s hair for the morning. People from the village kept coming round with cards and food.’

  Her mum smiled. ‘I remember coming back, gosh, we were so tired, weren’t we, Cassie? But it was so exciting to see everyone.’

  Juliet glanced over at Cassie, but she made no attempt to respond. Instead, Cassie had pushed her chair slightly back from the table and was staring down at her sandwich as if she’d, mentally at least, stepped away from the conversation.

  ‘It felt like you’d been away a long time,’ said Juliet said.

  ‘Well, I’m sure it did.’

  ‘Do you know where the photos of the day are?’ asked Rosalind. ‘I don’t think we’ve looked at them for years.’

  ‘Yes, they’re upstairs, but I’d need to move the cases on top of the wardrobe,’ said her mother, sounding weary.

  ‘I can do that, just show me where they are,’ said Juliet.

  They went into her mother’s bedroom; Juliet noticed a kind of woody, sweet smell.

  ‘Have you got a new perfume?’ she asked.

  Her mother shook her head and picked up a small bottle of oil. ‘It’s frankincense.’

  ‘Like the three kings.’

  ‘Well, sort of, but it’s helpful for all kinds of things. I use it for my arthritis – it’s so good, I’ve recommended it to a few people. I mentioned it to Cassie, I think she gets a few aches and pains, and she has told Anwen about it for her hands. I should have
shares in it! Now, I put some of the older albums behind there, you’ll need to stand on a chair.’

  Juliet got up and handed her mother the cases. There were two large cardboard boxes with lids, which she handed down next.

  Her mother took the lid off one. ‘Oh, this is all your father’s bits; you know how he was for collecting things.’

  Juliet picked up a small pile of photographs held together in an elastic band.

  ‘Your father never got round to putting those in the albums. They’re mainly of the barbeques we had on the beach.’

  ‘Oh, Maddie was talking about those after the funeral.’ Juliet took the band off and flicked through. ‘That must be Gabriel and Harry playing football with Cassie, and who is that good-looking chap giving you a glass of wine?’

  Her mother smiled. ‘That’s Clarence, Maddie’s husband. He was very good-looking wasn’t he and very charming.’

  Juliet grinned. ‘You look so happy, Mum, and look at your hair, it’s gorgeous.’

  Her mother put the photographs back in the box, laughing. ‘That was a long time ago.’ She took out some old, yellowed albums. ‘These are cigarette cards; Dad has a whole set of kings and queens.’

  ‘Do you think they’re valuable?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so.’ Her mother opened a stamp album. ‘Do you remember these? They’re your dad’s collection of first day covers.’

  ‘I do. He collected them for a few years, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he started a few years before Rosalind was born. He would buy every set. Actually, the year she was born was a good year, look, January was cats, then these were my favourite, the pictures of the Globe theatre in London, weren’t they beautiful?’

  Juliet looked down and laughed at the stamps that featured a group of grey haired older men. ‘I remember saying to Dad how boring these ones were, and he told me that the men had all been very important. One had invented the wireless and I remember he said that this chap, Rowland someone, had started up the post office. Dad was interested in so many things, wasn’t he? Now these I did like.’ Juliet pointed to the row of Christmas robins. ‘They are so pretty. How long did he keep collecting?’ She turned over the pages.

  ‘Another, what, five or so years?’

  ‘That’s impressive. Can I look at the cigarette cards again?’

  ‘Of course. Take the box and you can look at them all properly. Now, this is the box we need, so we might as well take them all down. Can you put everything back on top of the wardrobe for me?’

  Juliet took the box to her room, put the cases back on top of the wardrobe, then followed her mother downstairs.

  ‘Here we are,’ her mother said breathlessly, holding out a pile of albums. ‘I found a few that I’ve always meant to put on the computer, but never got round to it. This album is your actual coming home party.’

  Juliet sat next to Rosalind as she went through the album. It showed them all sitting in the garden, chairs arranged in a horseshoe. Her father was stood at the front, and her mother stood holding Rosalind.

  ‘I’d arranged for someone to make a cake, and you girls all gave Rosalind little presents to welcome her to the family.’

  ‘Who is that holding me?’ asked Rosalind as she picked through the photographs.

  Juliet took the photo. ‘That’s Gabriel.’

  Rosalind laughed. ‘Sorry, but he looks awful in that backwards cap and baggy T-shirt! Glad he’s sorted a few things out since then.’

  ‘He was very clever, but I think I was the only girl he spoke to back then,’ said Cassie. ‘He went round with a group of boys like him who pretended to be into heavy rock music and played on Game Boys.’

  ‘Game Boys?’

  ‘Old-fashioned, handheld games things – this was before games consoles and even computers took off.’

  ‘Sounds lame!’ Rosalind picked out another photo. ‘And who is this holding me?’

  ‘That’s Harry, Gabriel’s brother,’ said their mother.

  ‘Wow, he was hot.’

  Juliet took the photo for a closer look. Harry was holding Rosalind, Maddie was stood next to him, looking slightly away, her face serious.

  ‘Maddie looks unhappy,’ Juliet said. ‘I suppose it wasn’t long since she’d lost her husband.’

  ‘No, only a matter of months. It must have made family things hard for her. I remember feeling sorry for her that day. She stood apart, never held Rosalind, but she brought a very special gift. A white French lace dress, Rosalind looked so beautiful in it.’

  ‘And to think that evening she was going to lose her son as well,’ said Rosalind. ‘That’s terrible.’ She paused. ‘Oh look, here’s one of you holding me, Mum. You were so pretty, how old were you there?’

  Her mother laughed. ‘Thirty-nine years young but thank you. I was so tired that day, well, for weeks after that, new babies are exhausting. I was glad I’d stopped my full-time work at the school. Supply work was more than enough for me those first few years when you came to us. Still, Cassie was very good, weren’t you, when Rosalind first arrived. Do you remember that you used help me out with the night feeds sometimes before you went away, and even came home for weekends when you could? And you two younger girls were great as well.’

  Juliet saw photos of herself with Mira on the garden seat. Rosalind had been carefully placed into her arms. She thought what very young ten- and eight-year-olds they looked in simple cotton shorts and T-shirts.

  ‘So how old were you here, Cassie?’ asked Rosalind, looking at a different photograph.

  ‘Eighteen.’

  ‘What on earth’s going on with your hair?’ asked Rosalind, laughing.

  ‘Oh, I wanted it shorter than that… We all wanted to look like Rachel in Friends. I managed to persuade Mum to let me have the front layered, but to do the look properly I’d have had to have it cut much shorter and she said no. We had a few rows about that… hard to imagine it mattered so much now.’

  ‘You do look older.’

  ‘I guess I was mixing a lot with older people at orchestra or at work up on the vineyard, not just mucking about like some people,’ she glanced at Juliet.

  ‘When I got to sixteen, I worked at the pub in the food area,’ said Juliet, glaring at Cassie. ‘And I did a lot with Mira and Rosalind. I even took Mira to some of her hospital appointments… you never did any of that.’

  ‘But you never played in London concert halls. I couldn’t just turn up for them. It was one long round of exams, auditions, concerts…’

  ‘But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?’ There was a pleading edge to her mother’s voice.

  ‘Of course, I am defending myself against the charge of opting out that’s all.’

  ‘Right, that’s enough,’ said their mother firmly. ‘You were all wonderful children; your dad and I were very proud of you all. And that reminds me, Rosalind, your musical box. We forgot it on your birthday. It’s in the workshop.’

  ‘Oh, but Dad said…’ Juliet paused, not wanting to finish the sentence. On her actual birthday Rosalind had been out most of the day and it had been easy to shelve the problem of whether to give her the musical box, but now she had to confront it. One part of her felt, like her mother, that Rosalind had a right to it. On the other hand, her father had seemed very insistent that Rosalind wasn’t given the box and maybe she should respect his wishes.

  ‘I know what your dad said, but he was unwell. I am sure he would want Rosalind to have it,’ said her mother.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it later,’ said Rosalind and then looked back at their mother. ‘I was thinking about the age gap between me and my sisters, I must have been a bit of a shock. You must have thought you’d finished having children.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Her mother smiled. ‘You were a wonderful gift. Now, I think we should get on, come on, let’s finish tidying up. Get this kitchen fit for Anwen.’

  ‘She’s cooking this evening?’

  ‘She is, and I asked her to do duck as I know
that’s your favourite.’

  Rosalind grinned. ‘Good stuff. She’s a very good chef, bit wasted in pubs, isn’t she?’

  ‘She’d like her own place one day,’ said Cassie.

  ‘It’s a risky business opening up a restaurant.’

  ‘You need to know what you’re doing, that’s all,’ said Cassie.

  ‘Now, girls, I know it’s going to be difficult tonight,’ said their mother, ‘but I hope we can have some family time, celebrate Rosalind’s home coming – that’s what Dad would have wanted. No drama, just a quiet evening together.’

  8

  By the end of the day, the house was shining. The heat had eased and there was a slight breeze. It was an idyllic evening to eat outside. They had decided to find the old garden furniture and had covered the shabby table with a beautiful lace cloth which they decorated with candles and flowers from the garden.

  ‘It looks perfect,’ said Juliet and her mum smiled. ‘Are those new earrings?’

  Her mother fingered one of the small, silver, moon-shaped earrings. ‘Mira gave them to me.’ Her mother paused, looked Juliet up and down and smiled. ‘It makes a change to see you in a skirt.’

  ‘Yup, it’s too hot for jeans. I’ve even put my best top on and, look, Rosalind has done my nails.’

  Before her mother could answer, however, they were both distracted by the sight of Cassie. She was wearing a long red cotton dress, her hair hung loose and on her feet were flat brown sandals – very ‘boho’ and very different to her normal, formal black and white attire.

  ‘You look great,’ Juliet said to Cassie.

  ‘Oh, um, thanks.’

  ‘Very pretty,’ said their mother. ‘I’ve not seen that dress before, it suits you.’