The Island

by Mary Grand

  Juliet covered her face with her hands; whoever it was, someone she knew had done this. Suddenly she was aware of warm blood seeping through the knees of her trousers. She was desperate for someone to take care of her, someone to put their arm around her and tell her everything would be all right. But who? She would normally go to her mum, her sisters, but one of them could have been the person who did this. Her father had said you never knew anyone, and for the first time she believed it.

  She was getting cold; she couldn’t stay out here all night, and so she dragged herself out of the chair and over to the house.

  There was no one in the kitchen, and Juliet could see they were all still in the living room. No one looked her way and so she crept upstairs to the bathroom.

  She took off her clothes and examined the grazes, some deeper than others. Before attending to them, she got in the shower and stood there, letting the hot water and steam engulf her. Who had done this, who had crept up behind her in the dark? She remembered the voice with a shiver, but she couldn’t identify it, it may have been Anwen or Cassie, she had no idea. She closed her eyes. What about the strange, slightly sweet smell – it was familiar, but where had she smelt it before?

  She had no answers at that moment and so she got out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, before putting antiseptic on the grazes, plasters on her knees and elbows, and then retreating to her room.

  Juliet climbed into her bed and wrapped her duvet around her, still shaking. She was lying in the bed she’d slept in since a child, surrounded by family who’d she known all her life, but she was terrified, frightened by what this person had done, petrified of what they might do to her in the future.

  22

  Juliet woke stiff and exhausted the next morning. Blood had seeped through some of the plasters, bruises were creeping to the surface of her skin. Every part of her ached. She crept around, got dressed, made a strong coffee in the kitchen and went out to the workshop.

  She should have been sketching but she couldn’t even lift her pencil; she sat wrapped in a black blanket of misery.

  ‘What am I going to do, Dad? You told me to look after them all, but I’ve failed, they don’t even want me here any more.’ She allowed herself to cry; she curled up and cuddled herself. She had noticed in films how often someone found a crying person and comforted them, but she also knew it didn’t happen so often in real life. She was alone, no one was going to pick her up.

  Juliet remembered the times she went down to the beach when she felt like this, but that wasn’t for her today, and then she knew what she had to do.

  Grabbing her pad and pencils, Juliet left the workshop and walked out of the garden. Turning left, she headed past the houses and on past the junction that led to the pub. Instead of stopping, she walked straight on until she reached the church.

  There were no signs of the police any more. A blackbird was shuffling in the undergrowth; a robin sang from a branch. It was like at the site of her father’s crash, nature carried on. On one level, it felt wrong – surely places where people had died violently should feel sad, different? And yet, at the same time, it was strangely comforting.

  Juliet quickly reached the place where they’d found Rhys. How long was it since they’d found him? A week ago already. In fact, this time last week, they were cleaning the house ready for the meal. It reminded Juliet of when Maddie talked about being at their house for Rosalind’s coming home party, having no idea of the tragedy that would befall Harry that night. Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t always know what is ahead.

  There were some bunches of flowers, cards of sympathy starting to shrivel and fade in the sunlight. One memorial, however, stood out. It was a large cross of woven sticks which had been pushed into the hard, sun-scorched ground. That had to have taken effort, in the same way the cross itself had taken time and effort to construct; someone had gathered sticks, probably had to soak them after all this dry weather to make them pliable enough to weave. It was a work of art and had clearly been made by someone who cared, but there was no note, nothing to identify who had put it there.

  Juliet walked on and reached her destination, her father’s grave. She saw fresh flowers had been placed, and she recognised them as the roses from their garden and guessed her mother had been quietly coming up here to visit. It was a lovely spot to sit, high up, looking over downland and the woods behind her. She’d come to talk to her father, tell him everything that had happened, but now she was here, she was too tired to talk, to work through anything. Instead, she did what she’d done for so many years with her father, she took out her sketchbook and sat drawing the landscape in front of her. And then that magical thing happened when she drew here, the landscape, the sea came closer and closer, and she became absorbed in them. That was when she knew the island was claiming her, wanted her to be here. However much she might feel threatened by the person who had pushed her the night before, at least she had the assurance she should be here, this was still her home. No one had the right to push her away; she would stay, she would carry on digging for answers.

  Juliet had no idea how long she sat there, but eventually she stood to leave. The family had to be faced. Before she left, she went over to Harry’s grave to pay her respects and she read the inscription on the headstone – ‘a time to be born, a time to die’. The choice was surprising, but she was sure this sense of acceptance would have been of greater comfort to Maddie and Gabriel when Harry died than empty platitudes.

  She was about to leave the graveyard when she saw Barbara from the shop, closing the church door and walking towards her.

  ‘Good morning, Juliet,’ she said.

  ‘Hi,’ Juliet replied, not really in the mood for a chat, but Barbara didn’t pick that up.

  ‘Rhys had asked me to take on the cleaning for August. It’s not a big job, it’s not been used for any meeting or services since the night poor Rhys died. I was just giving it a quick going over before the next service.’

  Juliet forced a smile. ‘That’s very good of you.’

  ‘It was so terrible what happened to Rhys, we are all still in shock. What a time your family is having.’ Barbara looked at her more closely. ‘Are you all right? I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look shattered.’

  ‘It’s been difficult.’ Juliet swallowed, realising how close to tears she was.

  ‘Of course,’ said Barbara gently, ‘and you have been looking after them all. You must take time to rest as well now. It’s hit a lot of people hard. That’s the thing about a village, we don’t all go about our separate lives, we are a community. People have been coming into the shop in tears. It’s the shock, you know. To have another hit-and-run here. We don’t expect it, do we.’

  ‘So, even after all this time, people still talk about Harry’s accident?’

  ‘Oh yes. I know people will say it was years ago, but in a village like this, well, it’s like yesterday. I was with Maddie, you know, when the police came around to tell her Harry had been found dead on the military road.’

  ‘Yes. Only the other day Maddie was telling me about it. She told me how grateful she was that you were there.’

  ‘It was lucky. I was working in a nursing home at that point and went to pick up Ed after my shift. Usually, I’d have left him to walk back but the weather was so bad that night, the storm frightened me. I know Maddie blamed herself for letting Harry go out, but he wasn’t a child and anyway, she never had any control over him.’ Barbara put her head to one side. ‘I had more sympathy for Harry than some. I know he had a reputation for being a bit of a tearaway; it’s a great shame he didn’t channel more of his energy into sport. He had a real gift, you know. Harry was a member of the Wight Arrows, the running club where my husband coached. Him and Zac, the other coach, worked with him. Harry had been training so hard until he got these ideas of going to France. He stopped for a few weeks. But the fact he’d been out training the night he died made me think he must have decided to stay.’

 
; ‘But Maddie was sure he was going.’

  ‘I know, and she told me after he died that Harry had bought his ticket and everything, so there we are.’

  ‘It does feel a tragedy that he was killed so suddenly, and they never caught who did it.’

  ‘I know. How is anyone meant to come to terms with the death of their son when you don’t even know who to blame, don’t see them punished. You know everyone in the village feels the same, still we all wonder about this person who killed Harry. Who are they? What are they doing? Are they living happily over on the mainland, maybe have children, grandchildren of their own? We still need answers.’

  Juliet heard the passion and anger in Barbara’s voice and knew she was speaking from the heart of this community. They had all lost a family member; they were all still grieving.

  ‘I just hope for your Mira’s and all our sakes they find the person who killed Rhys. We can’t go through that again.’

  Barbara looked away and then sighed, smiled at Juliet.

  ‘I’m sorry, but these things are hard to deal with, aren’t they? Tell me, how is your mum? To have lost her husband and then her son-in-law, it’s so much for her to cope with.’

  ‘You know Mum, she keeps a lot of her feelings inside, but she carries on.’

  ‘Yes, she hides a lot, but that’s not always healthy. Oh, I’ve just remembered.’ Barbara took something out of her pocket. ‘I found this on one of the pews… I don’t know if it might be Mira’s, I wondered if she’d been up there on her own since Rhys died.’ Barbara held out a piece of jewellery in her hand.

  Juliet saw the moon-shaped earring, and it looked familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. ‘Hmm, I don’t think it’s Mira’s, but I’ll take it and ask her.’

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ said Barbara. ‘I’ll be thinking of you all.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Juliet and she slowly walked away from the church. As she did, she received a text from Gabriel.

  I’m on duty but wondered if you fancied coming up to the lodge this evening for a meal?

  Juliet replied without hesitation.

  I’d love to.

  And she meant it, an evening away from her family was exactly what she needed.

  As she got ready that evening, Juliet decided to keep things casual, so put on her usual jeans and T-shirt, but wore a light jumper, not sure if they would be sitting outside.

  She walked down the road, crossed over, glanced into Brook car park. The sun was still warm, it was quieter now most of the tourists had gone. Despite that, she shuddered when she looked in and remembered the events of the evening before and was glad to walk on.

  There was no pavement along the military road and so she walked on the grassy verge. To her left there was grassland that led to the cliff edge, there was no easy way down to the beach now until you reached the next car park at Compton Bay. The walk would take her about twenty minutes, and it was one she’d loved, with beautiful views of the white cliffs of Tennyson Down in the distance. Before arriving at Compton she turned up the country road and up the steep hill that led to the vineyard entrance. Once there she made her way towards Gabriel’s lodge. She saw Gabriel sat on the patio outside. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt, glass of wine in hand. When he saw her, he got up and went to greet her.

  ‘You made it. Thank God, I’ve got so much food here!’

  When she saw the beautiful laid table, the bottle of wine, Juliet wished she’d made more of an effort. ‘I’m sorry, I feel a mess, this looks beautiful.’

  ‘You look perfect,’ he said and smiled. ‘Come and have a look around.’

  Like a Tardis, the lodge seemed much bigger inside than it appeared on the outside. There was one main living room, with beautiful warm wooden walls and a sloping ceiling, comfy sofas, a TV and a log burner. To one side was a kitchen area and the smell of casserole was wafting from the oven.

  They went back outside and Juliet sat down, looking out at the view. It was still light enough to just make out the sea and the horizon.

  Gabriel poured her a glass of wine.

  ‘Wow, this is wonderful,’ Juliet said, feeling herself relaxing for the first time in days.

  Gabriel disappeared inside again and returned with a tray with some dishes of hors d’oeuvres.

  ‘These are fancy,’ she said, ‘been to Marks and Spencer?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said in mock horror. ‘These are from the restaurant. Freshly prepared by the chef.’

  ‘Gosh, I’m honoured.’ She laughed.

  He leant down, kissed her and she smiled.

  ‘I love sitting here in the evening. I can pretend I am anywhere in the world.’

  ‘But would you really want to be anywhere else?’ she asked.

  He smiled the warm, gentle smile she had loved so much.

  ‘You’ve got me there, probably not. This place is part of me. I have been making some decisions though about changes I want to make.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, I’m impressed with Joe. I want to extend his responsibilities; he can take over the day to day running here. I want to get back to being fully involved with the vineyard.’

  ‘I thought you enjoyed all this.’

  ‘I do, but it’s such a waste of all the knowledge I have about running the vineyard. Maddie has been teaching me the ropes since I could walk. I know everything about growing the vines, the harvest, the winery, everything. She’s not getting any younger, she will need me to start taking on the work there – this will be my life.’

  She could hear the passion in his voice. ‘It’s lovely you feel so committed. Maddie is very lucky.’

  ‘Thank you, now, enough of all that. Have a read of this.’

  He handed her a typed menu of the food that had been prepared for them.

  ‘We have a tasting menu, devised by me, cooked by our chef. I have chosen a wine to go with each course.’

  ‘This evening just gets better and better.’

  Juliet read down the list:

  Prawns and soda bread.

  Tiny tomato tarts.

  Sole.

  Duck and miniature rosti.

  Crackers with cheese.

  Lemon sorbet with lavender.

  Cherry tart and chocolate truffles.

  ‘We can’t eat all that!’ Juliet said, laughing.

  ‘Just you wait and see.’

  They sat eating, each plate of food, each glass of wine, complementing the other.

  ‘You really know what you are doing with food, don’t you,’ Juliet said, impressed.

  ‘I have a French mother, so of course I do. I may not be able to cook it, but I know what it should taste like!’

  ‘And do many lucky women get this treatment?’

  ‘Only you… I am not the lothario of the island,’ Gabriel said with mock horror.

  ‘Come on, there aren’t many good-looking single blokes around… you have lodges, a chateau, a vineyard. What more could a girl want!’

  ‘Well maybe, but the only person I want to have sitting here is you…’ He leant forward and touched her hand.

  They were onto their sixth course now. She was losing track of the wine as they had glasses from various bottles. Gabriel gave her the lemon sorbet.

  ‘This is gorgeous… I’ve never eaten anything with lavender in it, I can smell it.’

  ‘It’s freshly picked from our field… the real thing, not like the air freshener in your car.’ Then he moved very close to her and put his arms around her, drawing her in close.

  She laughed but suddenly he looked at her arm and seemingly for the first time noticed the plasters.

  ‘What’s happened to you?’

  Juliet paused. Should she tell him? No, not tonight, it was too fresh, the fear too real. In a crazy way, she was scared the person who had done this might be watching her, listening to her.

  ‘It was nothing, I fell,’ she said.

  ‘You need to be careful,’ he said lightly. ‘So, what have y
ou been up to over the past few days?’

  Maybe it was the drink, but soon Juliet found herself telling Gabriel everything that had happened.

  ‘Good God, Juliet, you accused the family of stealing your set of car keys, killing Rhys and then, let me get this right, went to see this Tim in London?’

  She nodded, looking sheepish.

  ‘Come on, you can’t suspect anyone you know of killing Rhys, surely. The keys were probably in your bag all the time.’

  ‘They were not.’ The alcohol was making her anger surface too quickly. ‘I don’t need you accusing me of imagining things. I know what I saw.’

  Gabriel held his hands up. ‘Hey, okay, I’m just saying. If you’re wrong, I can see why your sisters would be upset. No one wants to be accused of something so awful, and the police said it was someone from off the island anyway, didn’t they?’

  ‘Yes, but I think they’re wrong.’ She looked away.

  ‘Enough of all this heavy talk, eh, me and you don’t need to fall out,’ Gabriel said gently. ‘Another glass of wine I think.’

  Juliet could see the disappointment on his face. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spoil this lovely evening. I’m just scared.’

  He put his arm around her. ‘You need to stop all this. Leave the investigation to the police. The past is behind us now.’

  ‘Is it? How can we just ignore things that have happened?’

  ‘Because if we keep digging over the past, we miss the good things that are happening right now. Look, let’s take our tart and truffles down on the grass. I’ll get a rug; we can eat under the stars.’

  He went and found a rug and lay it down by the edge of the cliff.

  They sat nibbling their puddings, but Juliet was more than full now. She rested back on her hands, closed her eyes, and let the sound of the sea below soothe her. She felt Gabriel put his arm around her and pull her close.