But a deal was a deal.
So, he’d pleaded guilty. He’d claimed he had been acting all alone so that there would be no trial. So that no evidence would be called or presented. That way, neither his uncle nor Isla would ever need to be questioned or suspected of being involved.
Thankfully, the coastguard hadn’t seen them leaving the boat that night.
The prison on the mainland had been overcrowded, dirty and suffocating. Each cell, designed to hold four men, housed ten. Beds were bunks either side of the narrow room, stacked four high. For the first three years, he’d slept on the floor underneath the bottom bunk. Eventually, when inmates were replaced, either moved to another prison or released, he moved up a bunk.
The prison was fuelled by corruption. He’d realised early on that you only got what you or your family and friends could pay for, and that personal safety was one of those things.
As it turned out, he discovered that Jack had been slipping in protection money to one or two of the other prisoners who were most likely in for life, in order to keep him safe while he served his time. He found this out when a big scary-looking man with a shaved head and ugly tattoos had threatened to rape him ‘when the old man couldn’t pay the minders anymore.’
He never actually got to know the identity of his minders but he knew that it might eventually cost his uncle everything he had to keep him alive and unabused.
He’d begun to pray that Jack could continue to pay.
A year later, when a terrible prison fire in a high security prison elsewhere on the mainland claimed the lives of hundreds of inmates, there was a huge outcry from human rights campaigners about dreadful conditions in the prisons, where rat was on the menu and the gangs still quite literally call the shots, and where prison guards earned far more from extortion than from their wages. This outcry resulted in lots of improvements throughout the penal system on the mainland. The overcrowding was improved by many of the less-dangerous inmates being moved to medium security prisons, where tensions due to overcrowding and fears of attacks were not so prevalent.
He’d been an exemplary prisoner and so he was one of the lucky ones.
In the medium security prison he was given a choice about whether to work in the prison gardens and workshops or to study instead. So he’d embarked on a business diploma. Then, after six long years of being incarcerated with murderers and rapists and, of course, drug traffickers like himself, his anger towards his uncle had finally waned and he wrote asking him to visit.
One week later, he waited at a visitor table in handcuffs and leg-irons, while Jack, who he noted now had steel-grey hair, bribed a guard to allow him to bring in a bottle of rum. Then sitting opposite each other, he and Jack had said nothing as they swigged from the bottle in turn until Jack broke down and wept.
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry, Leo. Oh God, help me. I’m so very sorry.’
Leo had been completely shocked. He’d never seen Jack show weakness of any kind and it was embarrassing to see him like this. He told him to stop it.
‘Look, no amount of sorry will change anything.’
But, seeing how broken Jack was, he found himself telling him, ‘Jack, I asked you to come here because I miss you. I have truly forgiven you.’ He realised in that moment that he spoke the truth and that the words came from his heart.
Jack wept even more then and insisted on some kind of recompense. ‘One day, one day soon, you’ll get out of here and I will find a way to make it up to you for what I did and for what you did for me. I swear it.’
Leo lowered his voice so as not to be overheard by the guard standing in the corner of the room. ‘We struck a bargain that night, Jack, do you remember?’
Jack wiped his red-rimmed eyes with the back of his big knurled hand. ‘Yeah, I remember. You kept to your side of it and I kept to mine.’
‘And is she okay? I mean, is she well and happy? Do you know?’
Jack shrugged. ‘That I don’t know. I took her home that night just like we agreed. The next day she was sent away. Back to wherever she came from I expect.’
Leo let out a long sigh. So, that would explain why he’d never had any replies to his letters. He’d written to Isla once a week during his first year in prison and addressed them all to her aunt’s house. He had thought for all this time she was ignoring him. He couldn’t blame her, after all. His only hope had been that wherever she was now, she was happy and had been able to get over what had happened to her that night. There was no doubt in his mind that she would have been totally distraught at having to leave Pearl Island and incredibly distressed on hearing that he’d been arrested and imprisoned for drug trafficking.
The thought of it had crushed his heart.
His only wish from that day to this was that one day he’d have the chance to explain himself and to apologise for lying to her. To tell her what really happened that night, in the hope that somehow, she’d be able to find it in her heart to forgive him.
Chapter Thirteen
Early the next morning, from his apartment above the visitor’s centre, Leo saw Isla parking her golf cart and he rushed downstairs to greet her. His heart was pounding, his breathing quick, but this time he was ready. This time he was looking forward to showing her around the farm and sharing his vision for a successful pearl farming future on the island. He knew she would be interested in the farm, even if she were no longer interested in him, because he knew how much she’d always loved pearls.
When he went out to meet her, Anya was already welcoming her back.
‘Good morning,’ he interrupted, doing his best to keep his breathing steady and the tone of his voice even and his attitude warm despite her frosty attitude to him the previous day. ‘I hope you’re here to complete your tour because we have something quite unique here that I want to share with you.’
Isla turned to him. ‘Good morning, Leo. I’m told we are partners in this business and so I need to discuss one or two things with you before I leave the island today.’
‘You are leaving?’ The words tumbled from his lips like he’d just spat them out.
‘Would you both like some coffee?’ Anya offered.
They both replied to Anya at once. ‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘Erm… why don’t you come into my office?’ Leo suggested, leading the way. He felt his calm façade crumbling away.
She was leaving, so soon?
This was terrible. This wasn’t how he’d planned things at all.
His office was also his laboratory. He offered her his chair. ‘Please sit down, make yourself comfortable.’
She looked around and cast her eyes over the grafting instruments. ‘No thanks, I prefer to stand.’
He realised he was sweating and trembling at the same time. ‘Erm, you just said you were leaving. So when are you planning to come back?’
She wandered over to the window and looked out across the yard. ‘I’m not coming back. I plan to sell Pearl Island, but I wanted to assure you that whomever buys the island will have to commit to supporting the pearl farm, according to my aunt’s wishes.’
He felt like he had been stabbed in the heart.
‘Selling? But you can’t!’ he blurted out.
She turned to look at him but her eyes were deadpan cold.
‘I think you’ll find that I can and that I will. I’ve come here to say goodbye, Leo. Something I believe we were denied the last time we parted company.’
He swallowed hard. What was he supposed to say to that kick in the balls?
‘Do you think your aunt would have wanted you to sell? I mean, Pearl Island is home to a lot of people. This is the Caribbean as it’s supposed to be. What if it’s bought by a hotel chain and turned into a resort?’
‘I’m perfectly aware that this is the Caribbean and also aware that the population of this island has decreased significantly over the years. You must know that all the young people are leaving and prefer to live on the mainland or the Cayman Islands. If you think about it, you�
�ll come to realise that this could be a good thing for you and for your pearl farm.’
‘Our pearl farm, Isla. We are partners!’
‘Indeed, but either way my part is up for sale.’
Panic set in and he suspected that she was about to turn on her heels and walk away again, just like she did to him yesterday, so he tried to control his frustration. He must try to reason with her. This mustn’t end here. They couldn’t end here. Not now. Not when she was back on the island at last. Not when he had his chance to explain. When he had a chance to make things right between them.
When she had a chance to finally forgive him.
‘Look, we have to talk about this. I have to show you exactly what we have here. This farm will be of enormous interest to you… because it’s going to produce some of the finest pearls in the world. I’m sure of it!’
She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him.
This was something at least.
‘Really? Well, that sounds… amazing. I wish you luck with that.’ Her voice sounded laced with animosity.
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’
‘No. I can’t say I do. I know something about pearl farming and I know there is significantly more to it than popping a bead into an oyster and hoping for the best. I see that you are farming oysters in saltwater rather than mussels in freshwater. The water in the eastern Caribbean is so heavily saline that yield would surely be low, and so too the chance of finding any perfect or near perfect pearls. So, I’m afraid that by your methods alone you are only likely to harvest the type of pearls that could be sold off cheaply as fashion jewellery or to those who grind pearls into powder for use in cosmetics.’
He listened to her sharply observed criticism and tried not to be affronted.
‘Really? Fashion jewellery or pearl powders,’ he repeated.
‘Yes. So my advice to you would not to be so optimistic about your chances of success.’
Seeing a perfect opportunity to challenge her, he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. ‘Okay, so while you are here, let me show you why I think you are wrong and why I believe we can produce the finest grade pearls.’
Isla lifted her chin. He could see she was thinking about it. He’d piqued her curiosity. Before she changed her mind, he headed straight out the door expecting her to follow him. When he reached the filtration tanks, to his relief he saw she was just one step behind him.
‘Okay, you’ll know how all this works. These are our grafted oysters,’ he said.
She peered into the tank at three thousand oysters in a shallow bed of water.
‘Every one of these oysters I have impregnated with a nacre, a bead made from mother-of-pearl, and a mantle from a donor oyster,’ he told her. ‘Over the past few weeks I’ve been observing their recovery from the surgery. One or two percent haven’t made it, but the live rate looks to be high and so that’s already something of a success story. The next step, before they are placed into baskets and lowered into the sea, is to X-ray them and check that the graft has taken and is still in place.’
‘You have become a surgeon and you have an X-ray machine. I’m impressed.’
He ignored her sarcasm. ‘Well, I now need to become a farmer, because the entire batch I grafted two years ago is now ready to be harvested from the platform at sea. Very soon we will get to see something incredibly special and absolutely unique in the pearl industry: cultured pearls with the lustre and quality of a natural pearl.’
Isla turned to him and laughed. ‘You are joking, right?’
‘No, I’m entirely serious. You have to remember that the pearls once found off this island were famed for their lustre and iridescence. The conditions off the reef were ideal for oysters then and they are still ideal today. Come out there with me this afternoon, Isla. I’m doing a pre-harvest to sample the crop. Let me show you?’
She was still looking at him with scepticism in her eyes, but this time she was at least looking at him instead of avoiding the intimacy. All he needed to do now was prove he was right and then maybe she wouldn’t want to sell the island. And maybe, if he was really lucky, she might give him a chance to explain and then also find it in her heart to forgive him.
He just had to pray that he was right and there were actually quality pearls in the oysters he’d been nurturing for the past couple of years.
In the moments of silence between them he studied her face. He’d imagined this moment for so long. The moment he would get to lay his eyes on her again. Would she look the same? Would he recognise her? She had only been sixteen years old the last time he’d seen her and now she was a grown woman. A woman who had grown up so far away from him in a far more sophisticated place than he could ever imagine. Would he still know her? Might she have changed unrecognisably?
But he did know her. He did recognise her. His soul had immediately reconnected to hers.
And if it were at all possible, she was even more beautiful as a woman than as a girl.
But there were some differences of course. He could detect mistrust and cynicism in her blue eyes where there once had been trust and innocence. Her skin looked paler now of course due to the climate in the UK, giving her a pallid tone. She also had a worry crease between her brows, which was understandable, over her anxiety about coming back to the island and seeing him again.
As she wavered, and cast her eyes to the floor space between them, he desperately wanted to take her hand in his and repeat the question in order to plead his case and convince her to accept his offer. Let me show you?
Let me show you what I have done for you?
But instead he remained silent and kept his eyes on the top of her golden head noting that yesterday she’d worn her hair loose. Today she had pulled it back in a ponytail. He’d always loved her long golden hair. A flash of recall played in his mind and he saw them on the beach together, at the secret place they used to meet. His memory was of Isla sat astride his hips, gazing down seductively at him, while his hands were entwined in hair that felt to him like finely spun silk. His groin swelled instinctively at the memory and his immediate concern over her noticing or even somehow being able to read his thoughts jolted him back to the present.
Then she spoke and he couldn’t stop a smile spreading across his face once more.
‘Okay, I’ll come. I’ll help you with the first sample. Just give me half an hour to change.’
He wanted to yell and jump and punch the air on hearing her sweet words but restrained himself knowing that this was his one big chance to make things right and he really couldn’t mess this up.
In the next few hours, he knew he had to convince Isla that the pearl farm was worth her time and that he wasn’t the consummate liar that she thought he was. Then once he’d finally proven both of those things to her, she might want to change her mind about selling the island and her share in the pearl farm. Then, if she had to leave the island for a while to get her life and her arrangements in order, then they could part on good terms until she returned.
Chapter Fourteen
Isla drove the golf cart quickly back to the house so that she could change into her swimsuit. Somehow, in between showing her the grafted oysters in the tanks and telling her about the farm pontoon out in the bay, Leo had managed to persuade her to stay on the island one more day to help him with the first pearl harvest sample.
She realised she was trembling as she used her phone to message Evie and ask her to reschedule all her flights: Message: I need just one more day here to sort out the details of my aunt’s estate.
She pressed send and wondered if she was lying? Was she really sorting out details of the estate or was she giving Leo a chance to explain himself to her? Holding herself together in his presence wasn’t easy. Looking at him wasn’t easy. Hearing his voice and listening to how passionately he believed in the farm wasn’t easy. She wanted to believe as he did, that the pearls he might produce would be of the finest quality, but she still wasn’t convinced.
Although she liked the idea of a pearl farm, especially here on Pearl Island, where the history and the culture – pardon the paraphrasing – lent itself to such an industry. She had been drawn in by Leo’s enthusiasm, however misplaced, especially when he’d told her that the first pearls were ready to be harvested and that he’d like her to open the very first oyster.
How tempting an invitation?
Especially when, despite her expertise, she had never actually witnessed the birth of a pearl from a live oyster before and her inherent curiosity had been roused. Leo knew all about that of course - he’d used her inherent curiosity against her once before - and so he knew exactly how to play her.
Either way, she should of course remember to keep in mind what Mr Smith had said about selling the island quickly – before the pearl farm could show any sign of profitability at all or she might be liable for capital gains tax.
She raced up the driveway towards the house with a cloud of dust in her wake and after bringing the golf cart to a screeching halt, jumped out to head indoors, but stopped mid-flight on the porch steps on hearing Grace’s shrill voice coming from somewhere in the shrubbery.
She turned to see her stepping out of the undergrowth wearing a large straw hat and wielding a large pair of shears. ‘Goodness, what’s the hurry, Miss Isla? Is the house on fire?’
Isla took note of the rambling pink flowering vine spilling over the handrail and making its way up the drainpipe and instinctively took in a deep breath of the hot-honeysuckle-like fragrance being released from it and from all the cuttings littering the ground.
‘Oh Grace, that’s such a big job to tackle on such a hot day, don’t you think?’
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