Perhaps the whole story would be told in Kate’s journals?
She decided she would start reading them this evening.
Meanwhile, she sat at the long dining table and waited for everyone to arrive.
In due course, Mr Smith took a seat to Isla’s left and Mr Powell to her right. Minister John arrived red faced, out of breath, pouring with sweat, and full of apologies, saying he’d had to walk over from the Rectory because the battery on his golf cart was flat. Thankfully, today he was wearing his cassock rather than his sarong. It wasn’t far to walk of course, nowhere on the island was too far from anywhere, but everyone agreed that the afternoon heat today was particularly stifling. Grace entered the room with a tray of refreshments and poured everyone a cool glass of her homemade limeade before she too sat down.
Isla saw that the lawyers each had a stack of papers in front of them, which they had ceremonially removed from their briefcases. She noted how some of the papers looked clean and crisp and some looked yellowed and worn.
Mr Smith cleared his throat and then said, ‘It is my duty today to formally inform you of the importance and the legalities of the matters concerning the Last Will and Testament of Katherine Rocha.’
Minister John stood up. ‘Before we begin, I’d like to lead us in prayer for the soul of our dearly departed Kate.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. Please go ahead,’ said Mr Smith, loosening his tie.
Minister John smiled through his stained teeth at Isla. ‘After our prayers, for Isla’s benefit, I would once again like to read out the eulogy I’d prepared for Kate’s funeral, as I know she has not yet had the opportunity of hearing it.’
They lowered their heads and closed their eyes.
And soon the Minister’s words faded from Isla’s ears….
Chapter Eight
Isla – Ten Years Earlier
Isla put down her pencil and closed her homework. Outside, the light of day was fading fast. It had been hard to concentrate on math when everything that Leo had said to her about the treasure salvage was mulling around in her head. All day she’d been agonising over whether or not she should just turn up at the boatyard at sundown and ask him again if she could come along and help with the recovery of the coins.
Despite Leo’s insistence that she stayed away, she couldn’t stop thinking about all that gold and how the opportunity to witness history simply didn’t come along every day. She had always been fascinated by the story of Captain Morgan and the legend of his lost treasure. When she and Leo had been children ‘finding the treasure’ had been one of their favourite games. First, they would draw a crude outline of Pearl Island in the sand and, depending on whose turn it was, one of them would mark an X on the make-believe map and then they’d go off speculating. If simply looking for treasure was exciting, then Isla could only imagine how thrilling it would be to actually find it.
She popped her head out of her bedroom window to find that her usual escape route across the porch and through the garden was no longer viable because her Aunt Kate was already out there. Tonight, her aunt was wearing a beautiful green silk gown that shimmered like a mermaid’s tail along the entire length of her tall slim body. At her neck she wore her emerald necklace. On her ears, her matching cluster earrings. On her delicate wrists a chunky bracelet that on anyone else might have looked rather too much. She was leaning against the porch rail in the spot that afforded her the widest view out to sea, where the fiery sun was now sitting on a line of liquid gold.
For a few moments, Isla studied her aunt, who sipped on her cocktail as she became a silhouette against the night sky and came to the conclusion that there really shouldn’t be any regrets in life.
So she quickly checked the lower floor hallway, so not to bump into Grace, and grabbing a small rucksack together with a few snacks, a bottle of water and a torch, she slipped through the side exit of the house and ran like the wind. It was now pitch dark. There was no moon tonight, but the sandy path along the headland and down to the boatyard was familiar to her. Besides, she didn’t want to use her torch until she was well away from the house. Instead she was guided by the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline and the whistling of the warm breeze through the long coarse grasses either side of the path as she ran. The rhythmic reverberations of crickets and the calling of frogs filled the humid air as she headed downhill towards the harbour. Then, as her breathing quickened and salt air infused with the smell of fish filled her nose, she knew she was almost there.
She also knew that by crashing in on Leo’s adventure uninvited she was taking a chance on her welcome. But while he and his uncle were off diving on the reef they would certainly need someone on the boat to keep a look out. Other men on nearby fishing boats might be curious about what they were doing, and when she pointed this out to them, they would surely welcome her on board.
She must, of course, remember to explain that she didn’t expect any share in the reward. That she just wanted to be there to witness the historic salvage operation. Her reward, she considered, would come later. When all the coins had been recovered and Leo was a hero – and so famous and rich from his fifty percent of the reward – she hoped her aunt wouldn’t try to stop them from being together. That she would, in fact, want to throw them a big fancy wedding up at the house.
A fairy tale wedding that all her friends on the island could attend.
At the harbour, she was relieved to see Leo’s uncle’s trawler, the Poseidon, still docked. There were lights on board and she could see Leo operating the hoist and preparing the boat.
She suddenly felt a little nervous. Only moments earlier, she’d imagined herself striding over the gangplank announcing her intentions, after which Leo would happily vouch for her and his uncle would gladly accept her as part of the crew. Now she wasn’t so sure it was such a good idea. From the safety of her obscurity she hesitated a moment, while menacingly dark water slapped against the bulk of the wooden boat making it creak and groan eerily against its mooring ropes, sending shudders through her body.
What if she was wrong and his uncle wouldn’t allow her on board because of the stupid ongoing feud he had with her aunt?
Isla considered how hard it was for two people to completely avoid seeing each other on such a small island. Yet somehow her aunt and Leo’s uncle had managed it for so many years. It was ridiculous. It was so childish for two old people to hate each other so much and then try to pass that hate down to the next generation. As it was, they had failed miserably because she and Leo were in love and they were going to get married. Even if they had to sneak away to do it. There was absolutely nothing they or anyone else could do about it.
That said, Leo’s uncle was someone she wouldn’t like to see angry. His eyes were menacingly as black as coals and so deeply set under his heavy brows that just one glance from him was utterly terrifying. Jack Fernandez was a big man. He was as big as a giant and as strong as ten men. He was tough and rugged with thick unkempt collar-length hair and an untamed beard. His face was weathered and his features set into a permanent and angry scowl. He can’t have always been so unpleasant and scary however, Isla reasoned, because he’d taken Leo in as his own, when he’d found him as a baby abandoned by the sea-gypsies on the beach in front of his house.
So, maybe if she sneaked quietly onto the boat and hid until they were out on the reef, they might come to realise for themselves that they needed another pair of hands on deck and would be glad to see her? Isla saw her opportunity and ran quickly up the gangplank.
With her heart pounding and perspiration pouring from her body and her efforts, she was soon aboard and looking for somewhere to hide. She saw a tarpaulin and slipped beneath it to sit amongst a coil of thick, oily and smelly rope. Soon the boat began to move and she could feel the tremor of its engine coming from the deck beneath her.
After an indiscernible amount of time it became unbearably hot and stuffy under the tarpaulin so she lifted up the edge to peek out. She realised that she
now had two choices: one was to be a coward and stay hidden all night and then to sneak away unseen when they got back to the dock; or she could take a chance on Mr Fernandez still having a softer side and follow through with her plan to help them salvage Captain Morgan’s treasure.
The thrill of seeing all that gold made her gather up her courage.
It was pitch dark on the boat. She tried not to stumble as she felt her way along the deck. For some reason they were travelling without lights. She managed to locate the wheelhouse only from the soft glow of the instruments on the dashboard, where she saw Leo at the helm.
‘Hi, Leo, it’s me. I hope you and your uncle don’t mind but I’ve come along to help!’
She saw his shoulders stiffen from hearing her words and he whipped around to face her.
‘Isla! What the hell are you doing here?’ he hissed.
In the faint light his face appeared ghostly and from his expression she knew she had made a terrible mistake. Suddenly, she felt incredibly stupid and her well-rehearsed justification for being there came out in a whine that even she thought sounded lame.
Leo killed the boat’s engine and, grabbing her by the arm, pulled her out onto the deck.
‘Look, Isla, I told you this was a secret!’
‘And your secret is safe with me, Leo.’
‘Isla, I only told you about this because I wanted you to know that I was going to get the money we needed to get married. I didn’t invite you to come along because it’s not safe for you to be here.’ His words came out at her like machine gun fire. She could only imagine him pacing in front of her because in the darkness he disappeared and then suddenly reappeared again like a fleeting shadow.
Why didn’t they have any lights on? This was ridiculous.
She reached quickly into her backpack, pulled out her torch and shone it around. It was then she realised they were positioned just off the island. If she strained her eyes she could see the coastline not too far away. Only this must be the east side, she reasoned, because if they were on the west side they would see lights from the village. Leo made a grab for the torch and Isla, in a panic, dropped it. It bounced across the deck, flashing light all around like an errant strobe.
‘Shit! Leo hissed, stumbling to switch it off.
She stepped forward. ‘Look, I just want to help. I’m offering to be your lookout while you are diving, and I promise that I haven’t told a single soul that I’m here tonight.’
Leo took her hand. ‘No, Isla. You have to go back home. I’ll take you ashore. We’ll have to be quick. We can use the dinghy.’
She was still protesting when they heard a low rumbling noise. It sounded like another boat approaching.
‘See, someone else knows you’re here, and that’s why you need me as your lookout!’
Leo groaned and swore again under his breath. ‘Isla, please. Get to the dinghy right now!’
‘No. I want to know what’s happening,’ she demanded, stamping her bare foot on the wooden deck.
And then suddenly, without any warning, she was falling into a black abyss.
Chapter Nine
Isla – Present Day
‘Amen,’ said Minister John, as he concluded his eulogy and sat back down.
‘Amen!’ repeated those seated around the table.
Isla opened her eyes and realised there were tears streaming down her cheeks.
Grace offered her a handkerchief. ‘Oh, Miss Isla, it was such a beautiful eulogy, wasn’t it?’
Mr Smith paused sympathetically in order for Isla to compose herself, but she dabbed her eyes and pressed him to continue.
He addressed Minister John first, telling him that a considerable sum of money had been bequeathed to him personally, as well as a substantial fund for all the island missions of which he was Head of Committees. ‘Specifically, for the continued maintenance of the church, the school, the clinic, and the small community centre on the island,’ he explained.
When he read out exactly how much money had been bestowed, Minister John’s usually ruddy complexion drained away and a strange hissing sound escaped from his mouth. Isla assumed that for the first time ever he had been struck speechless.
Grace shouted out, ‘Praise the Lord!’
Mr Smith took a Cayman Island banker’s cheque out of an envelope and placed it on the table. He ran his fingers over it and then looked at John devilishly, while adopting a solemn tone in saying, ‘There is, however, a burden of responsibility in accepting this cheque.’
Isla felt her blood run cold. Here we go. This is what had been hinted at during lunch.
‘Kate Rocha has requested that you agree to remain a religious and moral support to the people of Pearl Island for a period of not less than ten years or until your death, whichever is sooner.’
Isla was now starting to sweat. Okay, so to get his hands on the money, Minister John has to promise to remain on the island for ten freaking years - or until he dies? Oh Lord!
John sat quietly for a moment with the tips of his nicotine-stained fingers clasped, his hooded eyes closed, his lips twitching, and with his bony elbows on the table.
Isla focussed on the tips of Minister John’s fingers rather than to let anyone see her panic rising. She was reminded of a nursery rhyme that Grace used to sing to her.
Here’s the church, here’s the steeple, look inside and here’s the people.
When his eyes popped open again, he said, ‘Yes, that is acceptable. Now, where do I sign?’
Grace was next and began to sob uncontrollably when she was told that she could choose from any or all of Kate’s hats. Isla wasn’t sure if this sobbing was from happiness because she loved hats so much, or from bitter disappointment, because she thought she might also have been given a large personal cheque. The issue was thankfully resolved quickly by Mr Smith, when he mentioned a cheque so generous that it almost gave poor Grace a seizure.
Isla poured her a glass of water and then sat quietly waiting for the conditions to be imposed.
How bad could they be?
‘In return, we need a promise from you that a portion of this money will be used to build a cottage on the island, in a place of your own choosing, which will remain free of ground rent, in order to provide a comfortable home for you to live in when you eventually decide to retire as housekeeper from the main house.’
Grace sobbed even harder. Isla worried if this was because Grace had always assumed she’d never retire or because she’d always thought she would live in the main house.
Mr Pollard and Mr Smith then turned their attention to Isla. She swallowed hard and did her best to appear calm.
‘Let’s take a break,’ said Mr Smith. ‘We’ll deal with your inheritance in a private session, Miss Ashton.’
A feeling of relief, however temporary, poured through Isla as she stood to assist Grace.
‘Come on, Grace, let’s get you a cup of tea, shall we?’
When the private session began Isla felt a little more composed. She had reasoned with herself that as she hadn’t either expected, or indeed ever wanted to inherit from her aunt, she could give herself permission to walk away from this charade if she didn’t like the terms and conditions. By not agreeing to them, she might not inherit, but it wasn’t the end of the world.
After all, she had what she came for with her aunt’s jewellery.
‘There are some finer details to go through with you yet, Miss Ashton, but the main point is that your aunt has bequeathed all of her remaining estate to you. Which means that, as her sole heir, you inherit ownership of this island known as Pearl Island in the eastern Caribbean Sea and all the properties and businesses that are part of this estate, plus the balance of her bank account in the Cayman Islands after executor expenses have been deducted.’
‘And the finer details?’ Isla was impatient to be told the stuff she didn’t know, like what it was going to cost her both physically and emotionally to accept this inheritance.
‘First, it is noted
that there are one or two properties and businesses on the island that are privately owned but the land on which these properties and businesses are built is only leased, so you still ultimately have ownership and control of that land. In return for these leases, you will receive an annual income from ground rents and also from the tenants of residential properties.’
‘Tell me about the pearl farm?’ Isla said. ‘Who owns it?’
Mr Pollard looked through his papers and pulled a crisp white one from his pile. He handed it over to Mr Smith.
‘You have inherited a fifty percent share. Leo Fernandez has the other fifty percent.’
‘How interesting,’ Isla replied, feeling pleased that Anya wasn’t mentioned as a shareholder.
‘There is a burden of responsibility concerning the pearl farm,’ Mr Pollock went on to explain. ‘It has received significant cash investment over the past two years from Kate Rocha. Thirty thousand dollars at start up and a hundred thousand dollars that has been spent on development costs since.’
‘And Leo? What’s been his investment in the business?’
‘He initially developed the business plan and matched the initial investment of thirty thousand dollars.’
Isla couldn’t help but be cynical about how Leo might have been able to get his hands on that kind of money so soon after coming out of jail. No doubt it all came from his dubious dealing with his uncle.
‘And since?’
‘Nothing monetary. He basically manages the business, does all the work, and lives on the premises for free. He has a contract that promises him a bonus on profit once the pearl farm goes into profit, which it isn’t projected to do until after a third harvest, so not for another two years.’
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