The Islanders

by FJ Campbell

  Milo promised to call later, and Beth hung up. Zack knew where she was – and so did Justin and Melanie. Surely they wouldn’t be so cruel as to tell the press about the flat in St Emit? But Livvy wouldn’t put it past them. She made a call to her brothers and asked them to find out where Zack was, and she called Tab, instructing her to get hold of Melanie.

  Livvy went into overdrive. She spread the word in the village that nobody should let on that Beth was here, at least until Saturday when they planned to make a break back to Wessex. Livvy also stocked up on food at the supermarket, and they spent the rest of the day talking to friends on the phone, watching the news and smoking too many fags.

  Beth was worse than useless. She tried to concentrate on what was happening but couldn’t follow what Livvy was saying. Eventually Livvy packed her off to bed, where she lay shivering. Through the wall she could hear Livvy on the phone, asking questions and giving directions. She thought she heard Milo’s name, and also Mr Toms’ and Edward’s.

  *

  The following day went much the same way. Livvy left Beth alone in the ringing silence of the flat, and returned with a whole stack of newspapers, which all carried the story. It was on morning TV and now they had someone outside James’ flat in LA.

  ‘It must be a slow news day,’ remarked Livvy. ‘Here’s the plan. Tomorrow, we’re driving to Milo’s house, so that on Sunday we can get back to The Island without being spotted. I’ve spoken to Mr Toms. He says, once we’re on school property, the press will have to leave you alone. He’s already contacted the editors of all the tabloids to warn them that, otherwise he’ll prosecute for trespassing. Tomorrow afternoon, he’s coming to Milo’s cottage with Mr Markham, who wants to talk to us about Zack. He’s in the deepest of deep shit.’

  Livvy still hadn’t managed to get any new information from Tab about Melanie, who wasn’t at home and wasn’t with Justin, or at least that’s what Justin was saying.

  ‘Why are you bothering with Melanie and Justin?’ asked Beth.

  ‘Because of his parents.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘You don’t know? Justin’s dad is editor-in-chief and his mum is the society columnist for The Sun.’ She frowned at Beth. ‘You really didn’t know that? You can’t tell Justin anything – it always gets back to his parents sooner rather than later. If I’d known about your secret, I would have told you all this earlier.’

  ‘So you think that Zack gave the story to Justin, or Justin’s parents, because I split up with him? For revenge?’

  ‘To be honest, I’m not sure that’s everything. It’s not really the sort of thing Zack would do. I mean, no offence, but I think he’s more upset about Bonnie being in hospital than about splitting up with you. Wait… let me think… Edward called Milo and Milo gave him the number for here. Edward told me that Zack’s had a restraining order put on him, because he tried again on Saturday night, straight after he’d left here, to find out where Bonnie’s rehab is. So… that would have given him time to get back up to London, if he went to Justin’s house straight away… Shit, shit, shit. Something’s not making sense. I’ve got to talk to Mel. She’s the one who can tell us what Justin and Zack did. Where are you hiding, Melanie?’

  Later that evening, Tab called. She had finally tracked down Melanie and had convinced her that she should spill the whole story. Livvy listened to Tab, nodding and making little huffing noises. When she got off the phone, she poured herself and Beth a glass of wine.

  ‘So, Mel’s been a total bitch, but she has redeemed herself. Apparently she wasn’t your greatest fan because you ruined her chances with Milo – another piece of information you have neglected to tell me about, thanks for that – and Justin hates Milo anyway, because of the rugby thing.’ Livvy took a breath and sipped her wine. ‘But Mel’s poured her heart out to Tab and admits she’s screwed up big time. She’s dumped Justin, by the way. Says he gives her the creeps. She told Tab that Zack has known about your parents for ages – Mel wasn’t sure exactly when he found out, but she said that Zack’s mum recognised you from some photo… Anyway, Zack kept it to himself, because he knows how indiscreet Justin is.

  ‘But on Saturday night, Justin drives Zack and Mel home and on the way, Zack makes him stop off at the Markhams’ and the whole story about Bonnie comes out, including that she tried to do herself in last week. Justin takes Zack home and calls his parents with the scoop – Daughter of Cabinet Minister Suicide Attempt – and Zack overhears him on the phone. He flips out, but it’s too late. So Zack makes Justin take him to his house, where Justin’s mum is already writing up the story. She refuses to stop unless… Zack gives them something else. Something better.’ Livvy stopped.

  ‘He gave them me?’

  ‘Got it in one. Justin’s parents weren’t exactly convinced, but then Justin persuaded them it would be a better story. Lots more glamour and mystery and no chance of getting sued. Mel didn’t know anything about it; she’s shitting herself that she’s going to get into trouble at school. And she’s sorry that it’s happened to you.’

  Beth’s head throbbed. She left her glass of wine standing on the kitchen table and went to her room. She tried to go to sleep but everything kept running through her head. Zack had betrayed her. How could he hate her that much? She heard Livvy on the telephone, a soft knock on her door, a whispered goodnight. Beth waited for another hour, until she was sure Livvy was asleep, dressed and left the flat.

  She wandered through the deserted streets, catching her reflection in a fish-and-chip shop window, and stopped to look. There was nothing in herself that she recognised. She only saw one thing – her mother. How could she have lost herself so quickly? Was that all anyone else would see? Was this how it was going to be from now on, forever?

  She passed a phone box and thought longingly of Milo. She wasn’t sure how late it was, she didn’t have a watch any more, but thought it was past midnight. Could she call him now? Would he be asleep, or sitting up, worrying about her? She opened the door of the phone box and stepped inside, breathing in the stale smell, and picked up the receiver. She dialled 100 to reverse the charges but when the operator answered, she lost her nerve and hung up. How was Milo going to help? Nobody could help her now. She felt so lonely.

  She started walking again, in the direction of the little beach but following the path further, as it curved up above the sea and along the cliffs. She barely knew where she was going, but found an old bus stop that looked out onto the dark ocean on the other side of the road, and sat on the slatted wooden bench. She curled up after a while, trying to keep warm, shivering in her thin coat and pushing her hands up into her sleeves. Through the night she stayed there, too tired to move, too restless to sleep.

  *

  Birdsong woke her in the morning and a solitary car drove past, a song blaring out of its open window and fading away. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, her head pounding and her shoulders aching. She had to face the journey back to Wessex today, and then school tomorrow.

  Her holiday felt like it had happened a long time ago, or to another person. It detached itself from her and floated away. At the thought of what her life would be like from now on, a weight settled all over her, as if someone had covered her with a heavy blanket.

  Beth’s eyes searched along the coastline to the east, towards the faint glimmer of the sun rising from between the dark cliffs. The sea, which had been a fun and shiny toy for her and Livvy to play with last week, now looked treacherous and gloomy.

  She heard footsteps on the road and slunk out of sight into the corner of the bus stop, not wanting to be seen by a stranger. But it wasn’t a stranger; it was Livvy. Beth called her name as she passed, but her voice came out as a raspy whisper. Livvy turned around at the sound and enveloped Beth in a hug.

  ‘Oh, you gave me such a fright. I woke up this morning and you weren’t there. I didn’t know where you’d gone. I’ve been searching for ages; so have the others.’

  ‘The others?’

/>   ‘Don’t talk if it hurts. God, you’re freezing. Here, I brought you another jumper.’ She gave Beth Joel’s sweatshirt. ‘Joel and everyone. Come on, we have to get you back before Jimmy and Emily call the police. Only… we can’t go back to the flat. Justin or Zack must have told them where we were staying.’

  Livvy took Beth’s hand and led her back towards St Emit, turning off the High Street and knocking on the door of a caravan parked in a side street. A girl called Rachel, whom Beth recognised from their evenings at the beach, opened the door and ushered them inside. Rachel gave Beth a cup of tea and she nearly fainted with hunger and gratitude when a bacon sandwich appeared on a plate in front of her. Livvy whispered something to Rachel before she disappeared, and Beth sat eating and drinking, her throat hurting and her eyes bleary with lack of sleep. Rachel gave her a blanket and made her lie down on the fold-out bed. All the time she was dozing, she heard the door opening and closing and the hushed voices of people coming and going.

  It was time to leave. Livvy had their bags packed and ready in the car.

  ‘Joel’s been an absolute hero. He told the journalists that were camped outside the flat that he’d spotted you in a café in Wadebridge. They gave him fifty quid for that information. So they all hotfooted it to Wadebridge and Joel nipped inside the flat and packed our bags for us and got your car keys. We need to leave now before they discover the scam. Let’s go.’ Livvy hugged Rachel and pointed Beth to the car, giving her a large pair of sunglasses and a New York Yankees cap.

  ‘What are these for?’ croaked Beth.

  ‘It’s a disguise, dummy.’

  ‘But if they see me wearing these, they’ll know it’s me, it’s so obvious.’

  ‘OK, don’t wear them. I thought it was very Blues Brothers, that’s all. Now get in the car. I’m driving. Let’s hit it.’

  Beth did as she was told, although, she thought sulkily, Livvy was enjoying herself with the cloak-and-dagger routine more than was strictly necessary. Too weak to argue, she put on the cap and glasses, settled herself into the passenger seat and rested her head to the side facing the window. She watched the sea disappear into the distance, feeling like she was on the crest of a wave that was going to smash her life as she knew it into millions of tiny pieces.

  The truth were loud. It couldn’t get much louder.

  *

  The rain began as they joined the main road, and Beth stuffed a dirty, sandy towel into the gap in the window. She watched the central reservation flash by through steamed-up windows. Her head dropped and jerked up again. Livvy stopped at the services near Ivell to fill up the car with petrol and she bought Beth a pack of Anadin Extra and a carton of Ribena.

  ‘No Coke?’ rasped Beth.

  ‘It’s rich in Vitamin C. Drink up.’

  At lunchtime they arrived at Milo’s cottage and Beth directed Livvy to the shed behind the lane. The door was unlocked and a note from Milo said he’d be back from work when it was dark. Livvy ran Beth a bath and heated up some soup.

  At two o’clock, Mr Toms arrived with Mr Markham. Livvy had lit a fire and the room was far too hot – it was making Beth feel groggy and sleepy. Mr Toms asked Livvy to repeat what had happened with Zack, Justin and the Ravensdales, which she did with painstaking attention to detail, quoting sources and referring to notes.

  Mr Toms said, ‘Elizabeth, as you know, I was unfamiliar with the situation concerning your parents. I respect your decision for that to remain a secret. But now we have to look at the facts together and decide on the best course of action. Mr Markham contends that Zachary Smythe’s behaviour has threatened the privacy of his family, the welfare of his daughter and his own reputation and career in the government. Is there anything that you would like to add to these points?’

  Beth shook her head.

  ‘Zachary has not behaved very well towards you,’ said Mr Toms. ‘I understand that you two are… were… in a relationship. Is that correct?’

  She nodded.

  ‘And he has revealed your secret, that you had kept for fifteen years, and you have nothing to say about it?’

  Livvy interrupted. ‘Sir? She’s lost her voice.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Olivia, I was aware of that.’

  Mr Markham leant towards Beth. He looked tired and old. ‘You shouldn’t have a sense of loyalty to him.’

  ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘But you should.’

  Mr Markham leant back. ‘Why on earth would you say that?’

  ‘Because Zack has done the only thing he could think of to save Bonnie, to show her and you how much he loves her. At first I thought he hated me. But then I realised, he doesn’t hate me. He loves her. Nothing else matters. For once, Zack has thought about what his actions might mean to someone other than himself. He chose to protect her future, probably hoping that that future will involve him. It’s the first time he’s ever behaved with any sort of responsibility or loyalty to another human being.’ She stared at them all with defiance and turned back to Mr Markham. ‘You should thank him.’

  ‘Zachary will not be returning to Weatherbury Hall next term,’ explained Mr Toms.

  Livvy said, ‘You should expel Justin. It was his fault; he was the one who blabbed to his parents. Without him neither story would have been printed.’

  ‘We are expelling Justin for the culmination of a series of offences, this last one being a serious breach of trust. Zachary has been suspended from school for the offence which he committed with Bonnie last year, because they both assured us that that offence occurred outside the school and in the school holidays, but his mother has made the decision to remove him from the school permanently.’

  It was all decided, despite Beth’s refusal to blame Zack. Mr Markham shook her hand and left. Mr Toms asked Beth if he could take her to the school san, but she said she was feeling well enough and was just tired.

  ‘Then I will take my leave. I’ll see you both tomorrow, and I hope to put all this unpleasantness behind us with the new term. You’ll be safe here at school.’

  When he’d left, Beth collapsed on the sofa with Livvy. They turned their heads to face each other, resting their cheeks on the back of the sofa.

  ‘Don’t cry. It’s going to be OK. You’ll see.’

  Beth’s sobs rose from somewhere deep in her body, making her shoulders tremble and her face crumple.

  ‘You’ve been so brave. The worst is over now. He’s not coming back.’

  ‘But don’t you see? The worst bit is about to start. I have no life left. Everything I wanted is gone. Even he’s gone.’ She gulped and shook her head, her hair falling over her face. ‘I had this dream about Zack, ages ago, that he and Edward and Milo and I were in this awful maze; I was trying desperately to get out, and he helped me. Zack. I chose him to help me above Edward and Milo. I know it’s silly, but I really thought that dream meant something, that… I dunno, the maze was going to kill me. And Zack was the one to save my life.’

  Livvy thought about this for a while. ‘Did you ever think that perhaps you weren’t supposed to get out of the maze? That taking Zack’s way out was wrong? That you were meant to be there all along?’

  ‘But it was horrible and dangerous.’

  ‘If the maze was your life, let’s say, then it was really Zack that was the danger. He was the one who wanted to take you away from your life, or take your life away from you.’

  ‘Livvy, you are wise beyond your IQ.’

  ‘So they say.’

  Beth fell asleep with her head on Livvy’s shoulder, snoring softly through her blocked nose, and didn’t hear Milo come in later. With him was James, who had flown back from America as soon as the story broke. Milo carried Beth up to the spare bedroom and the three of them spent the evening talking about her, the past and the future, which began tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 18

  On Easter Saturday, when Beth had dropped Milo off at Truro train station, he watched her car disappear around the corner before leaving the station himself. He had no mon
ey for a train ticket and wasn’t very good at fare-dodging. He’d tried it once, had sat in his seat sweating and panicking, unable to think up an excuse should the ticket collector do his rounds. He couldn’t face that again.

  He’d made a sign to hold, with MELCHESTER written in large letters, and stood at the entrance to the first main road he found. He felt like shit: his head was throbbing from the knock at rugby camp, he was exhausted and woozy, the beating sun was making sweat dribble down his back. With his shaven head and scar, he knew he looked like he’d been in a fight. A fight with a lawnmower. His stomach was twistingly empty and he smelled of hospital – a smell that reminded him of all those times he’d visited his mum before she died.

  He was worried about Edward, who was in bits, and Beth, who had her own problems with Zack. The damp patch on his shoulder where her tears had soaked through his filthy T-shirt was starting to dry now. He was about to return to the train station – nobody was ever going to pick him up in this state – when a lady in a maroon Ford Cortina pulled up. She wound down the passenger window and shouted at him.

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Eighteen.’

  ‘Why is your head shaven?’

  ‘I was in an accident yesterday.’

  ‘What kind of accident?’

  ‘Playing rugby. Someone kicked—’

  ‘Say no more. Climb in.’ She opened the door for him, grabbed his bag and threw it onto the back seat. ‘Oof. Just wanted to check you weren’t a weirdo, that’s all. I’m heading to Havenpool; can you get another ride from there?’

  Milo admitted that he lived in Weatherbury. He had thought it would be easier to get a lift to Melchester.

  ‘Well then, that’s marvellous – I’ll drop you off at your door. So tell me about your rugby – were you at that schools’ training camp at Truro College? Nasty head wound you’ve got there. What does the other fellow look like, hahaha…’

  She didn’t stop talking for three and a half hours, about the weather, the state of the roads, the recession, how Thatcher was on her way out, her rose garden, how dreadful junk food was – she just went on and on. Milo replied politely whenever he could think of something relevant to say, staring out of the window at the fields and trees flashing by, his legs in their shorts sticking sweatily to the plastic seats. When they stopped off at the services, he drank from the tap in the men’s loos, he was so thirsty and hot.