The Island

by Mary Grand

  ‘I would guess he must have told Rhys about Harry and Cassie,’ said their mother.

  ‘But you are not just guessing are you, Mum? You spoke to Rhys at the church,’ said Juliet and she took the earring out of her pocket. ‘Barbara found this in there when she was cleaning; you were wearing it the night of Rosalind’s meal, I have a photograph to prove it.’

  Her mother went to protest and then sighed. ‘Okay yes, I did slip up to speak to Rhys. I was desperate for him not to say anything about Cassie and Harry, that was for Cassie and me to do if we ever thought the time was right.’

  ‘So, it was you who went out at half twelve that night?’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘Oh no, I went earlier than that. It was while you were out with Gabriel, I wasn’t long. It was obvious Rhys would not be persuaded by me. If I’d gone later, then I’d have known about the missing door key, I’d not have left you all in bed with the patio doors unlocked.’

  Juliet had to concede what her mother said made sense, that was if she was telling the truth.

  As if reading her mind her mother added, ‘I know after what has happened you must wonder if you can still trust me. Of all the people in the world you should be able to believe your mum. All I can tell you is that when your father and I made this decision, we were doing what we thought was best for Cassie and Rosalind.’ She hesitated and looked over at Rosalind. ‘I don’t want you to get the impression we felt forced into this. We loved you so much; the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t have borne to let you go to anyone else.’

  ‘I suppose you were really my grandparents,’ said Rosalind quietly.

  ‘In title yes, but any grandparent can tell you the love they feel when they see their grandchild can be as overwhelming as seeing their own child. That love is very, very special.’

  ‘Of course, Maddie is my grandmother. How did she feel about me?’

  Their mother shook her head. ‘That is harder to tell. She was in mourning for her husband, and of course she lost Harry so suddenly, she seemed content to stay away. I did talk to her about it, I never wanted her to feel left out, but she chose to keep out of things. As far as she was concerned, she said she was happy for you to always consider me and Dad your parents.’

  ‘But Dad was going to tell me when I turned twenty-one. Cassie explained she’d not wanted Dad to say anything because she was scared of how I’d feel towards her. I can understand that, but she also said you’d not wanted him to say anything either. Why was that?’ The words shot out and Rosalind did nothing to soften the accusation in her voice.

  Her mother shot a glance at Cassie. ‘I felt it was too much for you to take on. Why upset you? As long as Cassie was happy, I believed it was better to leave things be.’ She pressed her lips together tightly, clasped her hands. Juliet knew there was more, something their mother wasn’t telling them.

  Rosalind didn’t seem to notice however and asked, ‘Why did Dad change his mind about telling me? Why did he think it was dangerous for me to know?’

  Her mother looked away. ‘I have no idea.’

  She’d answered too quickly, and again Juliet was sure she was hiding something. What was the real reason she’d not wanted Rosalind to know about her parents? Was it the same thing that her father had discovered the day of his accident? Juliet knew her mother was quite capable of keeping secrets for years even from her father. Why was it dangerous for Rosalind to know Cassie was her mother and Harry was her father? Juliet’s mind went to Harry. Her father had talked about Harry in the hospital, talked about his death. Was that where the fear lay? Was this all something to do with Harry’s death?

  Juliet frowned and she knew in her heart that the revelations this morning were not the end, it was just a new layer being unwrapped, a pass-the-parcel of lies.

  The room was very quiet. The enormity of the news had overwhelmed everyone and what was needed now was time alone, the questions could wait.

  Juliet was grateful when they started to leave, there was something she urgently needed to do.

  26

  Juliet went out into the garden. Her laptop was in the workshop and she desperately had to look something up.

  Juliet googled ‘Isle of Wight news August 1995’.

  It took a few duff searches, but finally she found what she was looking for.

  Tragic Hit-and-Run Death in West Wight

  Late last Sunday evening, 20 August, the body of Harry Durand age 26, was discovered on the military road on West Wight. He was found by a member of the public out walking their dog. An ambulance was called but he was declared dead at the scene. Harry was seen running soon after 11.00 p.m. and it is understood the accident happened between 11.10 p.m. and when the body was found at 11.30 p.m. The detective in charge of the investigation said that it appears that Harry was hit by a car from behind while running. The car was abandoned, without the ignition key, further down the road. The police are very keen to locate the key and are asking for people to look out for them. They have a fob on them for a VW, and possibly have the label attached by the garage owner, which would have the name of the car owner, Mrs. Thornton.

  While the car belongs to Mrs Thornton, who lives in Elmstone, the car itself had been left at Ian Lacey’s garage, which appears to have been broken into. The car was stolen and was then involved in the fatal accident.

  The police are anxious to speak to anyone who might have been travelling or in the area of the accident at the time.

  Harry was a well-loved member of the Brookstone community. His mother owns Laurent Vineyard, where Harry was working. He is well known for his sporting prowess, being a member of the Wight Arrows, and having competed in the Island Games in 1993. The family are in shock and are very grateful for the support of their community at this distressing time.

  If you have any information at all that may help the police, please ring the station, you can leave information anonymously if you wish.

  Juliet read and reread the article. There was a photo of the car on the military road, at night in the rain. There was also a photograph of the site two days later. Juliet could just make out a large woven cross in the grainy picture – was that the same as the one that she’d seen at the site of Rhys’s accident? She wasn’t sure but there was something else she really had to check.

  She rushed over to her drawer and took out the old ignition key. The fob was for a VW. She turned it over in her hand and looked again at the piece of cardboard with ‘Tho’ on it, of course this was the part of the name Thornton. Her hand trembled. This was the ignition key to the car that had killed Harry.

  So how did her father come to have it? Why hadn’t he given it to the police if he’d found it all those years ago? Even if he’d not discovered it until the day of his accident, what scared him about it?

  Her mind went back to the article about Harry’s death. The police had wanted this found; to them it had been an important clue to the driver of the car that killed Harry.

  Suddenly the room began to spin. Juliet sat down. She had entered a cold, dark room, terrified to move. And yet she had to keep going, keep thinking.

  Her father had the ignition key to the car that killed Harry. It was the link to the driver. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply before she could even let the words be heard in her head. What if her father had been the driver of the car that killed Harry?

  Juliet fell back in the chair, shook her head.

  No way would her father have killed anyone. And yet, argued a cold logical voice, maybe he had seen it as the only way he could protect his daughter and her unborn child. Whatever Harry planned, Cassie was clearly infatuated with him. She could easily have given up everything either to wait for him or follow him to France. And she would be putting her life and that of her child in the hands of a man her father must have been angry with, a man he may have been convinced would ruin the life of his daughter and her child.

  Juliet took a deep breath and had to admit all of this had to give her father a motive to ki
ll Harry that evening, ensure he would never have the chance to ruin the life of his daughter and grandchild.

  And who would have suspected her father? As far as most people were concerned, he didn’t have any motive. Very few people knew that Harry was Rosalind’s father and as the truth had never seeped out, Juliet assumed Maddie had kept it to herself.

  After he’d killed Harry maybe he’d promised himself that one day Rosalind would at least be told the truth about her parents. Twenty-one years on no one would make that fatal link between Harry’s death and the motive for Cassie’s family. His death would be ancient history, forgotten.

  However, had it been that the day her father had found the old ignition key in his garage a few weeks before Rosalind’s birthday he’d realised that actually, twenty-one years was no time at all?

  The memory of Harry’s death was still raw; no one had forgotten. Barbara had reflected the grief and anger the whole village still felt, and in particular about the fact no one had been brought to justice for the crime. People still wanted, needed, to know who it was. When they heard about Rosalind, how long would it take for people to start putting the pieces together? It was then her father realised it would never be safe to tell Rosalind the truth about her parents and it had broken his heart. He’d drunk, had the accident, but then remembered the old key he’d given to Mira. He’d never had time to get rid of it properly and so he’d asked Juliet.

  Juliet’s mind went to her mother. Had she known or suspected what her father had done? She might even have been grateful; she was as invested in Cassie’s music, knew just as much about Harry’s reputation as her father. She’d have also known that it would never be safe for her father to tell Rosalind the truth. Juliet’s thoughts turned to Rhys. How much of all this had her father told him? How far would her mother have gone to silence Rhys, stop him telling the world about Rosalind, possibly even telling the world about who killed Harry?

  Suddenly Juliet was brought back to the present by her phone pinging and she looked down to see she had received a text from Gabriel.

  Fancy a drink at the pub?

  What was she to do? Her mind was in turmoil. How was she meant to face Gabriel suspecting her father had killed his brother?

  She took a deep breath; she had to calm down. This was guess work, she didn’t know anything for definite. In any case, if anyone could tell her more about the night Harry died it would be Gabriel. She’d take the old key and see what he made of it. Hopefully, Gabriel could tell her something to dispel her fears.

  When Juliet arrived at the pub, she found Gabriel waiting. ‘I’ve ordered drinks. Ed has to put another barrel on, so I have to wait for my pint. You okay? You look in need of a stiff drink,’ he said.

  She gave a thin smile.

  ‘That bad?’ asked Gabriel. ‘Look, I’m sorry if you felt I was moving things on too quickly.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not that,’ she said, but seeing him flinch she realised she’d been a bit insensitive. ‘A lot has happened at home since then, that’s all.’ She sighed. ‘There is no easy way to tell you this. I found out today that your brother Harry was Rosalind’s father, that Cassie is her mother.’

  She was watching him carefully, waiting for his reaction, but his face was composed, accepting.

  ‘You knew?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But how long have you known? Why didn’t you say anything to me?’

  ‘I knew Cassie and your parents were keeping it a secret from you all, it wasn’t for me to say anything.’

  ‘When did you find out about Harry and Cassie?’

  ‘Maddie and I knew before Rosalind was born. Cassie rang Harry from that course she was on. Harry told us.’

  ‘How old were you then?’

  ‘Eighteen.’

  ‘Of course, sorry, you’re the same age as Cassie. Harry was twenty-six, wasn’t he? That means he was quite a bit older than her,’ she said, an edge to her voice.

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows. ‘He was, but Harry enjoyed flirting and, in any case, Cassie always found boys her age irritating.’

  ‘You and Maddie must have been very shocked?’

  Gabriel rubbed his lips. ‘I know we should have been, but it was more complicated than that.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Like Dad, Harry was good-looking. Girls fell for him, but even I knew he didn’t treat them well. He literally made notches on his bedpost. He told Mum it was to do with sport, but I knew what they really were. He liked to brag to me. When Dad died, he got worse if anything. I was the quiet, nerdy one. I watched as all the girls, even ones my age, looked through me and up to him.’

  ‘So, Cassie was only one of a string of girls?’ Juliet could feel the anger rising. ‘She was eighteen and very naïve when he slept with her.’

  Gabriel cringed. ‘I know, I was very upset about it. I thought a lot of Cassie and yet she fell for him like everyone else.’

  ‘Cassie believed Harry loved her, believed that he would give up the partnership in France and stay here. She was prepared to give up everything to be with him and raise Rosalind together.’

  Gabriel sighed. ‘I know that’s the line he spun at that party. He might even have meant it for a minute. She told me after the party and I tried to warn her to be careful, not to rely on him, not to give up everything for him.’

  ‘But she didn’t listen?’

  ‘I think she was surprised when I told her he’d had other girlfriends; she was quite naïve, her life had been a lot more sheltered than most eighteen-year-olds. But still she talked of marriage and happy-ever-afters. He’d said things to her, promised her the world, but I knew he was leaving the next day. I told Cassie but she didn’t believe me. She knew he went out for his run at about 10.30 and so she said she’d go out to meet him and talk to him. I said if I got a chance, I would tell Harry to look out for her.’

  Juliet gasped. ‘Did she go, do you think?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure she did.’

  ‘There was the terrible storm. I was surprised Harry went out in weather like that.’ Juliet tried to encourage Gabriel to talk.

  ‘He went every night. Maddie had tried to stop him, but he was insistent about going. She still feels guilty that she didn’t try harder, even I do sometimes. I was eighteen, not a child, but I was too caught up with what I was doing.’

  Juliet looked up and saw Ed had come over with their drinks.

  ‘There we are, one red wine, one best bitter.’ He smiled at Juliet. ‘I was sorry it was so hectic here the day of your dad’s wake, I hope it didn’t spoil it for you.’

  ‘Oh no, thanks, it went very well. I think it was rather nice to be outside.’

  ‘I am so sorry to hear about Rhys. Terrible to think of there being another hit-and-run in the village. I know Harry’s was a while back, but it makes it feel like yesterday, doesn’t it?’

  Juliet nodded; there it was again. It felt like it was only yesterday.

  ‘We were just talking about the night Harry died actually,’ said Gabriel. ‘I was saying I should have supported Maddie more in stopping him going out.’

  ‘I do remember Maddie and him arguing about going out, but then of course he went. Harry always did what he wanted, and anyway, you and I were so busy, weren’t we?’ Ed grinned at Juliet. ‘Do you remember Game Boys?’

  She nodded. ‘I do. I didn’t have one but lots of my friends did.’

  ‘We may have been eighteen, but we were so excited, back then. I’d just got mine for my birthday and I went round that evening. Gosh what an evening that was. It’s weird, although it was years ago, because of what happened to Harry so much of it is still really clear in my mind. Like the weather. I remember that storm, it was terrible. Didn’t you have a tree struck by lightning, Juliet?’

  ‘We did.’

  ‘Didn’t you lose some vines as well, Gabriel? I seem to remember you’d been out in the rain before I arrived?’

  ‘That’s right, I got soaked.’

&n
bsp; ‘I got soaked as well. I’d walked up from the church.’ He grinned at Juliet. ‘I was very religious in those days and helped lead a Bible group on a Sunday evening.’

  ‘I can’t imagine that,’ said Juliet, grinning. ‘Do you remember much else of the night?’

  Ed sat down, ignoring the customers who were waiting at the bar. ‘Well, I did, and I remember walking in the rain to Gabriel’s after church. The meetings finished about quarter to eight, so I must have got to you about eight. Then we played games, I think we watched The Young Ones, and later Harry went out for his run. I didn’t take much notice, but I did think he was mad going out in the rain. We listened to some music. Maddie gave us great food, I remember that. Pastries, cheeses, so much. It’s terrible, isn’t it, to think we were just carrying on as normal.’

  Gabriel screwed up his face as if trying to picture the evening.

  ‘Mum had just come to collect me when the police came. It was so awful. I remember Maddie apologising for being in her dressing gown and having a towel around her head – I couldn’t understand why she was worrying about that, why it mattered. Now I understand she was probably in shock, the poor woman.’

  ‘It must have been a nightmare for you all,’ said Juliet.

  Ed was distracted by the sound of a fist on the bar. He tutted. ‘Sorry, best go and see to that lot.’ He got up and sauntered over to the bar, shouting, ‘So who’s next?’

  Gabriel took a long drag of his beer.

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s not fair raking all this up for you,’ Juliet said.

  ‘It’s okay. You’re bound to be full of questions. I’ve had years to take it in. But with Rosalind… she doesn’t need to know about Harry, not everything. Let her think he was going to stay and be a great dad, what harm does it do?’

  ‘But how do you know Harry hadn’t really changed his mind when he saw Rosalind? Cassie seemed very convinced.’