The Girl on Shattered Rock: A gripping suspense thriller

by Matt Hilton

  ‘You said it’s your fault you’re all here stuck on the island overnight,’ Leah prompted.

  ‘Yeah, well it is.’ Effie shrugged slightly. ‘Rob was out front leading the group, so it was me that suggested having our beach party on Shattered Rock to the gang. Normally we’d have it back over on the mainland, but when it looked like we were going to be stuck here a few hours…’

  Despite not fully buying it, Leah nodded along with the explanation. Effie was possibly telling the truth about organising the group’s proposed activities, but she suspected Rob wasn’t oblivious to the plan before any of them made it to shore. Still, she wasn’t that bothered really. It was highly unlikely she’d have got any work done back at the cabin, and being here she wouldn’t dwell on all the weirdness that had plagued her since arriving on the island. She’d accused Pete of being paranoid; well what excuse did she have for her behaviour these past two days? Meeting new people, hearing their stories, was just the remedy she required to keep her mind off her troubles.

  Rob’s body language was still that of a bashful kid, even so far as he kicked at the pebbles with his heel. Catching Leah watching, he shrugged, then indicated she might like to sit by the fire. Some driftwood had been arranged around the fire and a place on one of them was reserved for their honoured guest. ‘I’ll get you a drink,’ Rob said. ‘Beer okay?’

  ‘A beer’s fine,’ she said. But she didn’t sit yet; she checked out the rest of the group. Some of them were busy setting things up, and a teenaged boy and girl crouched shoulder to shoulder, jostling in fun for the tongs the girl was using to turn the meat in the tinfoil trays. He was narrow-shouldered and gawky, with large protruding ears, while she was as pretty and dainty as a doll. They were intimate enough in their rough play to suggest they were a couple. The remainder of the group was made up of a short stocky built guy, with a shaved head and metal-rimmed glasses, and three girls who were obviously firm friends, none of who looked older than their mid teens. The team leaders, plus Becks, were thirty-somethings, of which Leah was relieved, otherwise she’d have felt like an old fart surrounded by all these young kids.

  Rob returned from a nearby cooler with a bottle in each hand. He’d already discarded the cap for her. She accepted the beer, but didn’t drink, still taking in her surroundings and newfound companions. One of the teenaged girls was eyeing her with interest, though in a totally different manner than the leering interest shown by Dom. Leah nodded at the girl, but studiously ignored Dom.

  ‘Do I know you?’ the girl asked. She had wide clear blue eyes and a heart-shaped face framed by shaggy fair hair. She stirred the air with a hand, as if it would help dredge a name from her memory.

  ‘Don’t think so,’ said Leah. ‘I’m not from round here.’

  ‘Me neither,’ the girl said with a flip of her head at their surroundings. ‘I’m Michelle, by the way, but everyone calls me Shelley.’

  ‘Hi, Shelley,’ said Leah.

  Shelley aimed a hand at each of her friends, introducing a short, dark-haired girl with dark eyes, and a taller, graceful girl with porcelain smooth skin and elfin features, in turn. ‘This’s Haley and Annie, my besties.’

  Leah offered them both nods and smiles of greeting.

  ‘So why do I know your face?’ Shelley went on.

  ‘Crime Watch?’ Leah said, and more than one in the group laughed at the joke. Even Dom offered a genuine smile at her humour.

  ‘No, wait. You said your name’s Leah, but…’ Shelley wafted her fingers in the air, stirring recollections. Her freckled face split into a wide grin. ‘That isn’t really your name, is it?’

  ‘Leah Dean,’ Leah reassured her.

  Shelley jerked her eyebrows, still grinning conspiratorially. ‘Come on, you’re among friends. You can tell the truth.’

  Others were now staring at her quizzically, and Leah knew exactly where Shelley was leading. She shouldn’t be embarrassed, but she could feel heat building in her cheeks.

  Shelley glanced between her friends, nudging the elf-like girl sitting alongside her, possibly wondering why nobody else recognised the celebrity in their midst. When the other girl only frowned, Shelley announced ‘“Sorting Jennifer”. You know? You’ve read it, Annie, I know you have.’

  Now Annie eyed Leah with fresh interest. A stir of understanding went through some of the others, if not any of the men in the group. The game was up.

  ‘I can’t believe it! You’re Diana Leigh!’ Shelley announced, and her eyes sparkled.

  Leah tried to shrug it off. It wasn’t the first time she’d been greeted by a star-struck admirer, but being recognised in public was always something she struggled with. Sometimes the adoration lauded on her was unwarranted: hell, her fans treated her as if she was one of the Brontes, a literary genius, when all she’d written was a commercially successful romance novel – light “beach read” tat.

  ‘It is you, isn’t it?’ Shelley went on, squirming around on the driftwood as if she had worms. ‘I saw you on TV a couple of weeks ago, on “Loose Women”!’

  The others in the group were now nudging and nodding, and Leah squirmed almost as badly as Shelley.

  ‘It’s me,’ she finally admitted, ‘but my name really is Leah. Diana Leigh’s a pseudonym.’

  She glanced at Rob, but he only appeared bemused by the turn of events. Obviously he didn’t read Chick-Lit, or watch daytime TV aimed at females of a certain age. ‘I’m an author,’ she explained, and blushed harder because she was stating the obvious.

  ‘So what’s it like being famous?’ Dom asked, and his gaze had grown hungrier than ever.

  ‘Not all it’s cracked up to be,’ Leah said. But that wasn’t what any of them wanted to hear. ‘No. It’s great. I’m doing a job I love, and being paid for it. What’s not to like?’

  ‘So are you a millionaire then?’ dark-haired Hayley asked.

  ‘She’s rich,’ Shelley said. ‘I heard she got this huge advance for – what was it – three books?’

  ‘My publisher’s rich, so’s my agent, and the bloody tax man. Me, well, not so much.’ Leah hated talking about money. Most readers thought that all the cash from book sales went to the author, not so. After her reduced chunk of the advance she’d received for “Sorting Jennifer” she’d likely never see another penny in royalties.

  Next up came another question Leah was often hit with. ‘So when’s the movie coming out?’ Effie asked.

  Leah shrugged. ‘Haven’t a clue. I don’t write movies. I write novels.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Shelley put in, ‘but I just bet someone will film it: it was a great read.’

  ‘I can only live in hope,’ Leah said as she finally took a seat. She understood that the success of a novelist in the public’s mind often rested on whether or not their books were filmed. For some people, they didn’t judge a writer successful unless their work had been translated to the big screen. Having a movie or TV series behind an author was useful, she had to admit, because it helped grow her readership through all the associated publicity, but selling the movie rights had never been a consideration to Leah as an aspiring author: she’d only ever longed to see her by-line on a book cover. The same could be said for most writers.

  Leah was the centre of attraction.

  It was primarily the females of the group, plus Dom, who hovered around her, and the conversation took directions she was unhappy about at first, but she knew she was talking with potential word of mouth admirers, so answered politely and – as time passed – with more ease. She ate, and she drank, laughing along with the others at jokes and swapping humorous stories. Effie even explained what Dom had meant when bragging about “riding The Bitches”: they were a series of tidal rapids off the Pembrokeshire coast, a white water playground for the most serious of kayakers. The young couple got some music going through an iPod and was first to dance. Leah was cajoled to join in but politely refused. Instead she stayed at the centre of the conversation, but all the while wondered why Rob had moved away,
making way for her to entertain her avid audience. She caught him watching a couple of times, and hoped he’d come over and save her, but he kept a respectful distance. Damn it, did he believe her fame made her unattainable, and out of his humble reach?

  She had never been forward, always a little unsure of herself when engaging strangers: a reason she hated attending the soirees organised by her publisher where she was expected to mingle and network with potential future customers. But the fact she’d downed half a dozen bottles of beer by now gave her a false sense of bravery. If Rob wasn’t going to make the first move, then she should. Making apologies, she got up from the log, brushing crumbling bark from the seat of her pants. She swayed, a tad unsteady on her feet, and she pulled a self-deprecating face at her awkwardness. Fending off good-natured taunts from the others, she negotiated the young couple, who were caught in a clinch as they slow danced on a patch of dirt. Dom appeared in front of her. His eyes sparkled in their drunkenness.

  ‘Wondered when you were gonna ask me to dance,’ he slurred, and without warning took hold of her, taking a couple of experimental steps.

  ‘No thanks,’ Leah said, warding him off, ‘I don’t dance.’

  ‘Aw, come on. Don’t be shy.’ Dom wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in, while reaching for her left wrist. Leah felt the bone-deep pain of her bruises from the last time a man grasped her there uninvited.

  She shook her head. Tried to extricate out of his grip.

  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I don’t want to dance, okay. So please let me go.’

  ‘Who doesn’t like dancin’?’ Dom’s sneer was aimed over her shoulder at his campmates. Leah felt the jovial atmosphere plummet.

  ‘Please let me go,’ Leah said, her voice dropping an octave.

  ‘Chill out a bit!’ He bumped and ground his crotch against her. ‘Admit it, you love it!’ Leaning in close to her ear, he whispered, ‘What d’ya say, Leah, wanna be the next bitch I ride?’

  She was tempted to knee Dom where it would hurt most. But she was flustered, and embarrassed by the unwanted attention. She glanced back at the others. They were sitting, or standing, with looks of equal embarrassment on their faces, but nobody was doing anything to help. Except for Rob.

  He strode over, and took hold of Dom’s shoulder. ‘You heard Leah. Let her go, Dom.’

  ‘Give over,’ Dom said, rolling his shoulder out of Rob’s grasp. ‘We’re only havin’ a bit of fun.’

  ‘Leah doesn’t seem to think so. Let her go, Dom.’ Now it was Rob’s voice that had dropped an octave. There was a timbre to it that spoke of an ill-concealed threat.

  ‘What’s up, Rob? Beat you to her and you don’t like it, mate?’

  ‘Just let her go.’

  Dom released Leah, but it was so he could face Rob. His head jutted forward on his taut neck. ‘You’re the fuckin’ boss, Rob, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do all the time. What the fuck’s it got to do with you if I want to dance with her?’

  ‘You’re making a fool of yourself. Just chill out.’

  ‘Fuckin’ make me, big man!’ Dom postured, arms out to the sides, palms up. Then he laughed and wagged his tongue at Rob’s reticence to take up the challenge. ‘Pussy!’ he crowed.

  ‘Don’t be a dick,’ Rob warned. ‘You’re drunk…’

  ‘I’m not fuckin’ drunk. I’m just sick of this bullshit.’ Dom glowered back at the other campers, and snorted in derision at the reproof he earned. Some of the tension went out of him. ‘I’m just havin’ a laugh. You load of miserable wankers wouldn’t know a good time if it slapped you in the fuckin’ face. Why don’t you all get up and dance, instead of being party poopers like these two?’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Rob’s voice was now a bark of anger. His hands formed fists. Leah had moved aside, but she quickly stepped back in, placing a hand on Rob’s forearm. She could feel him trembling. Anger or adrenalin, or both, surged through him. All it would take was a spark and she believed he’d go for Dom, and wouldn’t stop until one of them was hurt. Despite the alarm she experienced at the sudden turn of events, a trickle of excitement also went through her: Rob was prepared to fight for her. But she didn’t want things to go that far.

  ‘There’s no harm done. Let’s all just calm down, shall we?’ she said, playing mediator. ‘Things don’t need to get any further out of hand.’

  ‘He needs to calm down,’ Rob said, aiming a scolding eye at Dom.

  But Dom had already backed away, any temptation to fight now handily ignored. He laughed too loud, as if it had all been a big joke. Reached for another bottle of beer, but then decided otherwise and grabbed two. ‘Ah, bollocks,’ he announced. ‘I’m done. I’m goin’ for a piss.’

  ‘Like we really needed to know that,’ Effie snorted.

  ‘I’d ask you to come and hold my dick for me,’ Dom retorted, ‘but it’d be a waste. Any other takers?’ Again he looked pointedly at Leah.

  ‘Dom,’ Rob growled again.

  ‘To the hell with the lot of you…’ Dom threw his arms in the air, sloshing beer and stumbled off. He could have relieved himself near the cliffs, preserving his modesty, but he had other plans. He headed up the steps cut into the cliffs.

  ‘Where you going, Dom?’ Rob called after him. ‘Don’t go getting yourself lost in the dark. I won’t come looking for you.’

  Dom threw aside a freshly emptied bottle and flicked a two-fingered salute at him.

  ‘Let him go.’ Effie shook her head at their retreating friend. ‘He just needs some space to get over it. When he comes back he’ll be back to himself.’

  ‘An obnoxious piece of annoying crap?’ Becks asked, and her joke got a laugh from the group. She reassured their young guests that the drama was over, but none of them seemed perturbed in the least, and happy to continue drinking, despite most of them being under-aged.

  ‘Be that a lesson to you all,’ Effie interjected. ‘Alcohol in, brains out. Sup up you guys, you’ve had your lot for now.’

  There was a chorus of groans from the bunch of youngsters, but apparently Effie meant it when she said they’d reached their allowable quota of beer. Leah tried to exchange glances with Rob. His eyes reflected the glow from the fire as he stared upward at Dom. Finally he blinked, and met her gaze. ‘Hey,’ he said, his bearing now that of a shy boy once more, ‘I’m sorry about that. Dom can be an idiot at times…’

  ‘No worries,’ Leah told him. She moved close to him, placing a hand flat on his chest. ‘But thanks for stepping in.’

  He grinned bashfully. ‘I’m not sure you even needed protecting. Dom’s all talk.’

  ‘I’m still grateful.’ Leah stepped closer and kissed him softly on the cheek.

  From the tree line above a howl rang out.

  18

  ‘You shouldn’t go back alone,’ said Effie, with a brief squint at Rob. Leah followed her glance and saw Rob’s eyebrows reach for his hairline. He nodded at his friend’s prompt.

  ‘I can walk you back if you want?’

  Leah peered up at the cliff. By now there was little chance of differentiating the swaying treetops from the mass of low-lying clouds that crowned Shattered Rock. There was no hint of a moon or even the briefest twinkle of starlight. It was pitch black.

  ‘I have a torch with me. I’ll be fine.’ Her tone betrayed her words. Truth be told, the most recent scream had unnerved her more than she cared to admit. Some in the camp believed that Dom had made the ear-splitting howl, the latest in a long line of buffoonery he was responsible for, but Leah knew otherwise. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the scream, but it was the first time it had sounded so…enraged.

  ‘It’s no trouble,’ Rob said. ‘I can get you back to the cabin in no time.’

  ‘And how are you going to find your way back again afterwards?’ Leah asked, and felt a flush in her cheeks when she realised how her words must have sounded to the group standing around them. She wasn’t offering overnight lodging.

  E
ffie delved in a rucksack and pulled out a Maglite. She tossed it to Rob. ‘Can’t have you fumbling around in the dark, can we?’ She offered a sickly sweet grin, which dissolved into a frown. ‘Seriously though, we’ll need you back here seeing as Dom has gone off in a sulk. You’re going to have to have a word with him, Rob. He’s supposed to be a team leader, not a bloody loose cannon.’

  Leah stirred uncomfortably. ‘I really don’t need a chaperone,’ she said. ‘I chose to stay on the island alone. I don’t need someone to hold my hand just because it’s grown dark.’

  She watched as Rob’s mouth pulled into a tight line. He looked as if he might agree with her, but he shook his head. ‘Whatever it was that made that noise, it didn’t sound friendly. It could be some kind of dangerous animal. What if you meet it on your way home?’

  Leah felt a smile of ignominy curl her lips. ‘What if you meet it when you’re alone on the way back here? Do you think a dangerous animal is going to be put off attacking because you’re a big tough guy while I’m just a slip of a girl?’

  Rob exhaled. ‘I guess I did sound a bit sexist just then.’

  ‘Sexist my arse!’ Becks injected. ‘You’re stating a bloody fact! If I was going to munch down on either of you I’d choose Leah.’

  ‘Hey!’ Effie knocked an elbow playfully into her girlfriend’s ribs.

  Becks laughed at how salacious her statement must have sounded, and heard corresponding laughter from some of the others in the group. ‘You guys have dirty minds,’ she scolded, but it only earned her another round of laughter. A few more good-natured taunts were thrown back and forth between the campers.

  As it were, the ribald humour allowed for Leah to make her brief goodbyes while the others were engaged in banter, and she set off for the stairs, knowing full well that Rob had fallen in step behind her. Her small torch cast a disc of yellow light on the risers before her. When Rob’s Maglite flicked to life it was much brighter, and she watched her own shadow lurch up the steps ahead of them. Beyond the torch beams the night was thicker with deeply clotted shadows. Admittedly, having Rob along with her did alleviate some of the fear that walking back alone would have guaranteed. If she was perfectly truthful, she’d hoped he would be gallant and walk her back to the cabin, and it had little to do with any romantic notions attached. The strange occurrences troubled her, and the more she thought about them, the more certain she’d grown that her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her. When she got back to the cabin, she resolved to get that radio in working order and call up Mr McBride to come and take her back to the mainland at first opportunity.