The Island

by Mary Grand

  ‘You can do it on your own then.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Gabriel marched off, flagged down a taxi and disappeared.

  Juliet was shaking, but it wasn’t going to put her off.

  She was about to go back into the hotel when she saw the man and Rosalind appear. Juliet stepped back into the shadows.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he was saying, ‘you need to rest, and I should get back. One of the girls isn’t well, I’ll text you when I can.’

  Juliet watched him walk past and then saw Rosalind walk up the street. She followed her at a distance, to a smart block of flats. Rosalind used a front door key to get in and Juliet watched the windows. Soon she saw lights in the first-floor window and Rosalind close the curtains.

  Juliet went to look at the entry buttons. There were four for the first floor. Eventually Rosalind answered.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Rosalind, it’s me, Juliet.’

  ‘What the hell? Just piss off.’

  ‘No, I’m not leaving. I can talk to you or I can talk to your friend.’

  ‘For God’s sake.’ And with a click, the intercom was turned off.

  Juliet waited. She saw automatic lights come on in the hallway and heard the door click open. She pushed it and walked up the concrete stairs, which, although smart and freshly decorated, felt anonymous and bleak.

  The front doors were all the same, and she found Rosalind standing waiting for her.

  ‘You’d better come in,’ she said, scowling at Juliet.

  The flat was smart, modern, impersonal. Juliet glanced around, breathed deeply, and was relieved there was no one else there.

  There were no photographs, nothing to say who lived here. On the coffee table was a bottle of whisky and a glass.

  Rosalind sat down, took a long sip of a drink Juliet didn’t even know she liked. Juliet sat opposite.

  ‘You have no right to do this to me,’ said Rosalind.

  ‘I understand why you’re angry, but I was worried, I mean, your clothes, the money, where is it all coming from?’

  Rosalind’s eyes flashed with fury. ‘Hang on, do you think I’m a hooker or something – my God, you do.’

  ‘I didn’t want to think anything of the sort, but what am I meant to make of all this? Who was that man?’

  Rosalind was breathing fast and she got up and opened the windows. ‘It’s none of your business. I’m not your baby sister, you can’t come here, demanding answers.’

  ‘It’s not fair to interpret my concern as just wanting to control your life or interfere. I care about you; I hate seeing you like this.’

  Rosalind walked back to where she’d been sitting. ‘I suppose it would be nice to talk to someone,’ she said, ‘but if I do, you can’t tell a soul, okay?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘The truth is…’ Rosalind took a long gulp, poured herself another drink. ‘The truth is I am a mistress. I am the other woman.’ She waited for Juliet to say something.

  ‘You are seeing a married man?’

  ‘Yes…’

  Juliet was immediately relieved, but a host of worries quickly replaced the feeling. ‘How long have you been seeing him? Where did you meet?’

  ‘We’ve been together, if that is the word, for a year now. I met him, William, at Cowes week. I didn’t know he was married at first. He kept that from me for a few weeks, and by the time he told me, I was lost.’ Rosalind’s voice softened. ‘I know I should have walked away, run even, but I was in love, desperately, infatuated, nothing else mattered but me and him.’

  ‘And he loves you?’

  ‘He said he did, he said, don’t groan, he said he was unhappy with his wife, he had stayed for the children.’

  Juliet grimaced. ‘Children?’

  ‘To be honest, I try not to think about them, they are in their teens…’

  ‘And William is well off, hence all the presents?’

  ‘He is minted! He runs an online gambling business. He’s spent a lot of money on me, expensive dinners, gifts, he even gave me a credit card with my own account. He likes me to look good. This place is his of course, he said he bought it for me and him, our special place.’ Rosalind looked up. ‘I know… There is nothing about this that any of you are going to approve of, is there.’

  Juliet saw a grey hardness in her sister’s eyes.

  ‘There is no way you’ll understand any of this,’ Rosalind continued. ‘“What about his wife, his children?” I know, but I try so hard not to think about them, I put them in boxes. I couldn’t talk to anyone about this, no one knows, no one at work, no one. It has been so lonely, but even that I deserve, don’t I? No one is going to feel sorry for me, even if I’ve spent all week waiting for our evening, bought the clothes, turned down all my friends and he stands me up at the last minute for family business, because that’s what he should do, isn’t it? William should be putting them before me, I’m just his bit on the side.’

  Juliet heard the hurt, the desperation, in her sister’s voice. ‘Oh, Rosalind, this isn’t all on you, you are much younger than him, he is the one who chose to cheat on his wife. You were wrong to go along with it, of course you were, but you have suffered, and he has used you.’

  ‘And not just me it seems.’ Rosalind’s words were brittle, sharp, cold.

  ‘Eh?’

  Rosalind stood up, she went back to the window, holding her glass, and looked out into the darkness. ‘I got a text earlier, not from him though.’

  ‘From who?’

  ‘From another “other woman”.’ She paused. ‘Yes, I’m not the only one. This one had found out about me and she contacted me. She’s his new bit on the side, and not as naïve as me. He’d brought her here to the flat and she’d found something of mine… she thought I should know.’

  ‘Oh Rosalind.’

  Rosalind sat back down, drained her glass, thumped it down on the table and, by some miracle, it did not break. ‘I was so angry, so hurt, I was going to have it out with him at the restaurant, but then you came and I couldn’t face the drama.’

  ‘You have to finish with him.’

  ‘I’ve known that for ages. Rhys was right, it’s why I was so pissed off with him.’

  ‘Rhys knew?’

  ‘He saw us together when he was over here one Saturday night not that long ago really. Someone Rhys was with recognised William; knew he was married. Rhys talked to me a few days later, but he had a real go at me before the meal. He had a horrible way of talking down to you and then he said he was going to tell Mum. Well really, how old am I? And how dare he?’

  Juliet could see her sister burning with anger and remembered her outburst to Mira.

  ‘I remember you saying you would kill him if he said anything,’ Juliet said quietly.

  ‘I was furious with him.’ Rosalind paused and her eyes widened in horror. ‘God, Juliet, you didn’t think I actually killed Rhys, did you? That’s absurd. In any case, after reading Dad’s letter, Rhys telling you lot about my affair became the least of my worries.’

  Juliet nodded and thought she believed her.

  ‘I have started to pack the few things I have here,’ said Rosalind. ‘I was going to go to the Premier Inn or something, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.’

  ‘So, you’ve not told William yet?’

  ‘No, I’ll do it by text, it’s all he deserves, isn’t it?’

  ‘You handle it how you want, but I really think you should come home.’

  Rosalind started to cry. ‘But how can I? I am so angry and hurt but what is the point of me talking to them? I’ll just make them feel even worse and it’s too late to undo it all.’

  ‘But if you are to have any kind of real relationship with them you have to talk, tell them how you feel. The last thing either of them would want is for you to run away from them and I don’t think you want to live without them, do you?’

  ‘No of course not.’

  ‘Well come home then.’

  Rosalin
d wiped her face. ‘Okay, yes, maybe I will. I’m going to tell them about this mess as well, might as well get everything out in the open.’

  ‘I think you’re right.’

  ‘But what if they hate me?’ asked Rosalind weakly.

  Juliet shook her head. ‘No one is going to hate you, but things are going to be different, things have to change. It’s something we all have to deal with.’ Juliet looked around the room. ‘You need to get away from all this.’

  Rosalind nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘Okay, well there’s a Red Jet soon, so let’s go as soon as we can.’

  After Rosalind had closed the windows, Juliet noticed a familiar smell.

  ‘What is that scent? I noticed it in your room at home.’

  Rosalind raised an eyebrow. ‘You must have led a very sheltered life if you don’t recognise that.’

  Juliet really didn’t recognise it but felt too embarrassed to admit it.

  ‘It’s weed, Juliet.’ Rosalind grinned.

  ‘You shouldn’t be smoking that.’

  ‘Everyone I know does, but you’re probably right. Still, it’s a way to cope with all this. If I’m honest, part of the reason I went to the workshop on that Saturday night wasn’t just to look at the musical box, but it was to smoke as well.’

  Now Juliet remembered the smell in there. ‘Ah, I thought I noticed something. So that explains why you were out there so long.’

  ‘Yes, I sat there smoking, and read the letter. I saw someone go out, was a bit worried actually because I didn’t want to get caught. I sat down in the chair after that, and then just sat lost in my own little world, thinking, smoking, and listening to music. I do remember thinking when I was giving my statement to the police that it was a shame I’d not made a call or spoken to someone, it would have shown I’d not left the workshop. But there we are, I know what I did.’

  Juliet was watching her sister. She’d given a very good explanation of why she’d been out so long, but Juliet couldn’t quite wipe away the anger she’d seen in Rosalind’s face when she talked about Rhys.

  ‘Right, I’m ready to go,’ said Rosalind.

  They went to the front door, but before she left, Rosalind looked back. ‘I’m not sorry to leave this.’ Then she threw a quick grin at Juliet. ‘I’ll miss the shoes, and the bags though.’

  They walked out of the flat.

  Rosalind suddenly looked around. ‘Where’s your date by the way?’

  ‘You only just noticed? He stormed off; he was furious at being used.’

  ‘Did he pay at least?’

  Juliet laughed out loud now. ‘Yes, he paid. Poor Gabriel.’

  In the taxi to the terminal, Rosalind said, ‘I’ll tell Mum and Cassie. No more secrets.’

  They caught the Red Jet and Juliet sat next to the window. It was very quiet on board; the only sounds were the engine and the splash of sea hitting the windows.

  They arrived back to the bustle of Cowes. Juliet glanced over at the taxi rank; Mike wasn’t there now. She remembered what he’d told her about Anwen, and so she now knew it was very unlikely Anwen had taken a taxi back to the village. It wasn’t even a matter of simply getting there and back either. Anwen would have needed time to steal her car, kill Rhys, set fire to the car, and then get back to the hospital. Juliet wondered if she was going to have to accept the fact Anwen had nothing to do with Rhys’s death.

  By the time Juliet finally got to bed, Mira was fast asleep. Juliet was only just drifting off when she heard Mira’s phone vibrating loudly, flashing, signalling a text, which must have roused her sister. Juliet saw Mira read it, followed by a brief grin flickering on Mira’s face.

  She expected Mira to go back to sleep but instead, through the subtle light of the nightlight, she saw Mira quietly picking up clothes, and Lola sat upright. They silently left the room, and she knew then she’d been right about the other evening – Mira had gone out. But where on earth would she be going?

  Juliet got up quickly and pulled on some trousers and a jumper. By the time she was on the landing, she saw Mira in a coat head out through the kitchen, and she heard the patio doors open and close.

  Juliet ran downstairs. The patio doors were unlocked. Lola was sat in her basket chewing a treat, and the dog looked up at her hopefully, but she shook her head and went outside alone.

  Mira was opening the gate, so Juliet waited until she had shut it again before going out of it herself. Mira walked down towards the beach; Juliet saw her cross the road and started to follow her. It was so quiet that she felt her footsteps echoing on the path. Juliet crossed the road, stood at the edge of the car park. It was deserted, apart from Mira and a solitary figure who was standing, waiting under the light by the paying machine. Juliet froze. God, no, how could they do this to her?

  29

  Juliet backed away; her heart thumping, she peered from behind a hedge, frightened they might have seen her. However, they stood very close together both totally absorbed in each other.

  Mira was crying and Gabriel had his arms around her.

  Juliet put a hand over her mouth to stop herself screaming out. How could they? Tears of anger and rage and disappointment fell. She remembered Mira’s face when she read the text, it must have been Gabriel asking her to meet him.

  The bastard. How dare he! How long had this been going on? Her mind dashed to the baby, was it possible that Gabriel was the father?

  Her father had been right, she shouldn’t trust anyone. She would have trusted Mira with her life, but now? Unable to watch any more, she turned and started walking back to the house.

  It must have been at least an hour before she heard Mira and Lola return to bed, but she lay trying to strip away the anger and hurt, to understand what was going on. Mira and Gabriel? How long had that been going on? Had Rhys known or suspected? Did any of this give Mira a motive for killing Rhys; had she convinced herself that was the only way out of a miserable marriage?

  Mira could have been the person she’d heard leave the house the night Rhys died. Juliet had to face the fact now; Mira could have been the person who had stolen her car and killed Rhys.

  She knew, however, now was not the time to be confronting Mira. Rhys’s funeral would be in two days, she must leave her sister be until after that.

  The next day, after lunch, Rosalind told the family everything. Cassie was fairly philosophical, her anger aimed at the man who had used Rosalind and betrayed his family. Their mother though was clearly very upset. She seemed less concerned about the man, her hurt more with the fact Rosalind had lied to her, had been leading a life she knew nothing about. However, their mother struggled for words, maybe aware that only days before she’d had to confess to misleading Rosalind for many years. Eventually Cassie and Rosalind went off for a long walk, leaving Juliet’s mother sitting hugging her mug of tea looking rather lost and abandoned. Mira moved to sit with their mother, gave her the comfort Juliet felt at a loss to find. And so, Juliet left them together and was glad to have some time alone.

  The following day they gathered together in the kitchen, once again preparing to walk up to the funeral together. Cassie had arranged for Anwen accompany them. She arrived with a few minutes to spare. Juliet noticed she was wearing the same black leather jacket with the badges on that she’d worn the day of her father’s funeral. However, the walk today felt very different. No holidaymakers made their way to the beach. Instead of people sitting out in their gardens or doing some gentle weeding, there were just a few people sweeping up the orange and brown leaves that had fallen on their tidy paths and lawns.

  Even though the church was much fuller, it was cold inside, and people wore coats and gloves. A lot of the villagers from Brookstone and nearby had come, and it reminded Juliet of Rhys’s place in the community. As she’d already seen, the ripples of a death, particularly one of such violence, may have gone unnoticed by most in a large city but were felt by all here.

  The church fell quiet as the family and Anwen entered and to
ok their seats at the front. Mira took Lola, their mother sat one side, Juliet put her chair at an angle. Mira had asked her to be ready to interpret if she needed it and despite all her mixed feelings towards her sister, Juliet had, of course, agreed.

  The archdeacon smiled at them, and introduced the service in a calm, quiet way that was comforting in its formality. Juliet remembered Rhys, nervous, distracted, preaching about the dilemma of what he should keep private, what he should share. Lies and secrets that can fester in a family, a time of reckoning, the truth…

  And now they knew at least part of that truth that her father had shared with Rhys. The truth that Cassie and Harry were Rosalind’s parents. But it was not the end. There was a chain of events that seemed inextricably linked, going back from Rhys’s death to her father’s and then back to Harry’s.

  Unlike in Juliet’s family where burial was the tradition, Rhys was to be cremated. Only close family went to the crematorium. The funeral service had seemed very public but here it was a time to pause, cry, and to mourn the loss of Rhys in private.

  Juliet stood with her arms around Mira, who sobbed quietly. Mira’s grief seemed real – would she weep like this if she loved someone else, if she’d killed her husband? Anwen stood with her arms crossed, her head bent. For a moment, however brief, Rhys was not a victim, he was a husband, the brother, who they had lost.

  They quietly returned to the house. Her mother had arranged for someone from the church to go ahead to put the kettle on and welcome people. Juliet decided to take a breather outside. The day was dry, although the air and the grass were still damp from the rain the previous day.

  Juliet could see Gabriel standing alone in the garden while Maddie was busy talking to her mother. It was awkward, how was she meant to talk to Gabriel? There had been the horrendous meal out and now what she knew about him and Mira. She noticed they seemed to be keeping well away from each other today.

  It was Gabriel who took the initiative, and he came over to her.