The Island Legacy

by Ruth Saberton

  Ness thought that she would have enjoyed it too. A hundred thousand would go a long way towards paying the bills and making a start on some urgent repairs. Then she gave herself a sharp telling-off. After all, that piano belonged here. It was as much a part of the castle’s history as the thick walls and arrow-slit windows. Musical history had been made in this place with that piano’s ivory keys and delicate wire intestines; it belonged in the middle of the sun-filled music room where it could be played, silver streams of notes cascading into the air, rather than sitting with its lid shut and its frame covered, in some millionaire’s drawing room. Jamie was wrong to sell it, and she would be making sure that whatever other items were integral to the castle’s character remained here. There were other ways to find the money she needed rather than selling off the few pieces they still possessed. She’d think of something.

  The music room looked odd once the piano had been removed. Swaddled in layers of protective material it looked as though it had been bound and gagged as it was wheeled away. The space the Steinway had filled now yawned raw and empty; all that remained were the scars on the wooden floor where it had once stood. Suddenly the drapes looked tatty and dusty, the rugs seemed more worn than ever, and the shelves appeared thick with grime and yellowing, as though the spell the piano had cast over the room for decades had suddenly been broken. Even the strings on the harp seemed slack, while outside the sun had slid away and turned the sea to pewter.

  “I don’t think I can bear to watch them try and load it into a van,” Lucy said. Her voice was tight with unshed tears. “What will it do to the piano to be bumped over the causeway?”

  “It came here that way,” Annie pointed out briskly. “It will survive.”

  Lucy inclined her head and put her hand on Josh’s shoulder. “I know it sounds ridiculous but it feels like I’ve just said goodbye to a dear friend I know I’ll never see again.”

  Ness had a lump in her throat – and she’d only lived here for a short time and didn’t have a musical bone in her body. How on earth must Lucy feel?

  “Why ever did our uncle let Jamie choose?” she wondered out loud. “He must have known he’d pick that piano.”

  “It was stupid,” Josh muttered angrily, scuffing the toe of his trainers on the floor and leaving ugly rubber snakes on the wood. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Uncle Armand was far from stupid. He must have had his reasons, even if we can’t work out what they were.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, he left me a lovely piano all of my own. It’s the one I used to play to him in his bedroom when he was poorly, so it too has its own special place here. I’ll ask Merryn and Fred to move it into the Small Hall. Then we can all enjoy playing it.”

  “Not me,” said Ness. “Chopsticks is my limit! But I’ll enjoy listening to you guys.”

  “It’s not the same,” Josh responded bitterly.

  “No,” was Lucy’s gentle reply, “but sometimes things change, Josh, and then they’re different. It’s how we handle those changes that counts. Come on, let’s go and have a play on my piano. You can tell me what you think.”

  Ness watched them go. She was impressed by Lucy. Her cousin might appear gentle and meek but there was a quiet strength underneath – the same edge of steel that she too possessed, and which was right now hardening her heart even further against Jamie Penwellyn.

  He could keep his piano and his money. He might think he’d won, and he might be lurking in the shadows gloating and waiting for her to admit defeat, but he was in for a very long wait because Ness had made up her mind. She was going to find a way to save the castle.

  Chapter 14

  “Stop mooning around, for heaven’s sake. It’s getting depressing. Go and do something fun. Hang out with Ness.”

  Merryn, on the deck of Guardian Angel, looked up to the quayside. Shading his eyes against the sun’s glare he saw a pair of slim brown legs poking out from a swirling scarlet skirt and dangling merrily over the vertiginous drop. Toes tipped with acid-green varnish swung in a lime blur, and a host of ankle bracelets jangled in perfect rhythm.

  “Don’t give me that look,” continued Fern. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “I’m not sure I do,” Merryn said. He leaned against the wheelhouse door and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his face – well, that and the fact that the brightness meant he couldn’t see Fern’s knowing expression.

  She snorted. “I know you way too well, Merryn Hellier. I heard you turned Cally Davey down too. You fancy Ness, don’t you?”

  Merryn rolled his eyes. Having lived here all his life he really shouldn’t be surprised when the local gossip machine swung into action – but this was fast even for St Pirran. Cally Davey, with her sloe-black eyes, bee-stung pout and long brown hair, was certainly tempting. Usually Merryn wouldn’t have thought twice about getting together with someone like Cally, but when she’d joined him in The Castle Inn and suggested they went back to hers after last orders, his heart hadn’t been in it.

  “Since when did my not going home with Cally have to mean anything?”

  “Err, since you had a pulse?” said Fern. With a rattle of bells and a swirl of her skirt, which she swiftly tucked up between her legs and into her waistband like a pirate costume, she descended the broken ladder and joined him on the deck.

  Merryn sighed, knowing that he was about to get one of Fern’s interrogations. Quite what his answers would be he wasn’t sure; after all, Fern had a good point. He liked Cally well enough: she was fun to be around and they’d enjoyed a few nights out together. Yesterday evening, though, he hadn’t felt tempted in the least and had gently but firmly made it clear that he would be heading back to the island – alone. Cally hadn’t seemed offended and had turned her attention to one of the young fishermen instead, leaving Merryn to walk back across the causeway with only the distant waves and the moonlight for company.

  “That’s rather sexist, isn’t it?” he remarked mildly.

  Fern, on the deck and rearranging her skirt, just grinned. “Like I say, I know you. Something must be the matter with you if you turned Cally down.”

  “Maybe I wanted to be alone?”

  Her lips quirked. “You had a Garbo moment? Yeah, right. Come on, Merry! This is me you’re talking to! I’ve noticed how much time you’ve spent with Ness lately.”

  “We’ve all spent time with her, showing her around,” Merryn pointed out. “Ness owns the island now, remember? We’re only able to stay here on her say-so. You’ve shown her the garden and taken her into town. Lucy has too. Why should it be any different for me?”

  “Err, because you’re a bloke?” Fern said. “And she’s gorgeous?”

  Merryn couldn’t deny either of these claims. He was most definitely a bloke and Ness was undoubtedly gorgeous too. That fiery Penwellyn hair and those big green eyes set in a heart-shaped face were quite a striking combination, even before taking into account her slim but curvaceous body. She was the sort of girl any man would look at twice and come back to for a third glance. There had been many women in Merryn’s life. He loved women – enjoyed their company, their beauty and their moods – but none had ever held his attention long enough to weave her way into his heart. And that was just the way he’d liked it. The only constant woman in his life was Fern and she clearly wanted nothing more than friendship. Whenever he tentatively asked about her past she shied away and she never seemed bothered when he spent time with other girls. Now she was teasing him now about Ness. Fern was complicated and Merryn couldn’t work her out no matter how hard he tried or how much he wanted to.

  Fern had a point. He did like Ness. After an awkward start, when they’d all thought she was plotting with Max Reynard, the island’s new owner had made a good impression on Merryn – and not just because she was attractive and tended to dress as though she was still in the Caribbean rather than Cornwall. He admired her decision to quietly and respectfully learn about the place, instead of throwing her w
eight around as they’d all feared she might. It would have been easy for the newcomer to have made Lucy feel uncomfortable; knowing the gentle Lucy as well as he did, Merryn had been quite worried about that. However, Ness had soon made it clear that Pirran Island was Lucy’s home just as much now as it had always been, and that the same was true for all the other people who resided there. Merryn had given Ness a brief boat tour around the island and the bay, pointing out the places where the seals liked to bask and where the puffins nested, but Lucy had been present too and they’d had little time alone. Now and then Ness had caught a ride across to the town in Guardian Angel or passed him when walking along the causeway, but Merryn always sensed a hesitancy in her and blamed himself for having been so antagonistic when she’d first arrived. He’d like to make it up to her.

  “I thought you didn’t trust her?” he said to Fern.

  She raised one skinny shoulder. “You know me. I don’t trust anyone.”

  This was certainly true. Fern had lived here for almost a year but Merryn didn’t know anything more about her now than he had done on the day he’d first met her. She was well-spoken and in their conversations revealed an education that surpassed anything he’d received from St Pirran Comp, despite Annie’s best efforts. The bruises she’d arrived with had certainly told a tale, but apart from these clues Merryn didn’t know much more about Fern than her name – if indeed this even was her real name. She was a pretty girl and fun to be with, and Merryn had grown very fond of her. Several times he’d thought there might be something more between them but she always fluttered out of reach, leaving him wondering whether it was all in his imagination. He always felt she was holding something back and this made it impossible to feel closer to her. Armand had probably known far more, but Fern’s story was yet another secret he’d taken to the grave – along with his missing symphony, as well as the real reason he’d stopped composing and the truth about how Beth Penwellyn had died.

  This reminded Merryn that he really should visit his grandmother. Annie had asked him whether he thought his grandmother might know something about Beth, and Merryn had made a mental note to sound Rose out. She spoke little about the past but she’d worked on the island at one point, so she might be able to help. One thing Merryn did know for sure was that Rose Hellier was as sharp as a gutting knife; even now he never got away with anything. She would remember everything. Whether she chose to reveal it, however, was another matter entirely. He hoped he could find something out that would help Ness. If he could give her a piece of the jigsaw that might allow her to find out more about her parents, perhaps it would go some way towards making up for his frosty welcome.

  “Why don’t you show Ness the saltwater pool?” Fern suggested. “There are hardly any tourists today, the tide’s turning and the tea shop’s quiet. She’s in the garden with Fred and could probably do with rescuing. It’s a gorgeous day and she should be enjoying the island. The gardening will still be there tomorrow. You need to chill out too.”

  Fred, deaf as a post, liked to carry on conversations even if he couldn’t actually hear them. They were a bit one-sided and he tended to shout so loudly that your ears rang for hours afterwards. Poor Ness could certainly do with a break from that.

  Merryn exhaled. The sun was growing hotter and the faint sea mist was starting to burn off. It was going to be another beautiful Cornish day – one for skiving work, visiting secluded beaches, picking sand out of picnics and throwing crusts to beady-eyed gulls, before diving into cool green water and feeling the waves take the sting out of hot limbs. A day for living in the moment.

  Fern was right: everything else could wait. It was time to introduce Ness Penwellyn to one of the island’s best-kept secrets.

  Ness placed the last of the strawberries in her basket and straightened up. Her back was aching from all the crouching down and her eardrums were throbbing from Fred’s endless hollered chat as they’d worked their way around the neat rows of plants. On the plus side, she now knew an awful lot about what was planted and when. On the negative side, any questions she’d tried to ask about her parents had literally fallen on deaf ears.

  “These are Elsanta strawberries,” Fred bellowed as they carried their crammed baskets towards the tea room, where Annie was waiting for them. “Best taste and longest season.”

  Ness, who’d already sampled far more strawberries than she should have done, nodded. They were truly delicious. In St Antonia all fruit was imported from Miami and generally tasted of nothing, so these sweet berries had been a revelation. She’d probably have the mother of all stomach aches, but it would be worth it.

  Maybe they could sell organic produce to raise funds for the island? She knew she was clutching at straws here, but there had to be a way they could make the castle and island financially viable. It was either that or give in and sell to Max Reynard – and there was no way Ness was going to do that. He’d underestimated her if he thought she was going to give up without a fight. His kisses had been good but not that good.

  As she left the walled garden and stepped onto the path leading down to the tea room, Merryn Hellier was coming the other way. He was wearing a white tee shirt and faded cut-off Levi’s that clung to his narrow hips and showed off his strong, tanned legs. His wild gold hair was held back from his brown face by a scarlet bandana. When he saw Ness he waved.

  “I’ve come to make you play truant for a bit,” he said, joining her and instantly taking the baskets of fruit from her and the elderly gardener. “Christ! These are heavy. Fred, you’re a terrible slave driver.”

  “Onions and leeks,” agreed Fred. “Not till the autumn though.”

  Merryn caught Ness’s eye. His lips twitched. “You seriously deserve some time out. You do know that?”

  Ness nodded. “I feel as though I’ve been in a strange parallel universe.”

  “Ah yes, Planet Fred. I know it well.” Merryn pushed open the door of the tea room and held it for Ness. “Special delivery, Annie!”

  The older woman looked up from scrubbing the counter. “Wonderful! I’ll put some in a sponge cake and use the rest for jam. Just pop them down over there, love. I’ll deal with them in a bit.”

  Merryn placed the strawberries on a table. “Can I pinch a couple of pasties and some drinks? I’m taking Ness down to Grace Note Bay for a swim and some lunch.”

  He was? This was news to Ness.

  While Merryn selected two golden pasties and several bottles of pink lemonade, Annie chattered merrily about Josh’s piano playing (“He really is talented. He only has to hear a tune once to remember it; I swear the child’s a genius!”) and the big surge in holiday bookings in the town. By the time Ness and Merryn headed back outside into the sunshine, Ness’s ears were ringing even more. She found that she was looking forward to the idea of a swim, her first since arriving in Cornwall, even if the water was going to be a great deal colder than the Caribbean Sea she was used to.

  “Do you need to pick up any swimming gear?” Merryn asked, his freckled face crinkling into a cheeky grin as he added, “Unless you fancy skinny-dipping, of course?”

  There was something in his eyes that made Ness’s heart beat faster and her cheeks grow warmer. Merryn’s skin was sun-kissed and his body muscular; all of a sudden Ness could picture him in the water, curls like springs and with rivulets running over the sculpted pecs and strong arms.

  God. She hoped the sea was really cold or else she’d be in trouble here…

  “I’ve got my bikini on under my shorts and vest,” she said. “It’s a Caribbean habit – you practically live in your bikini out there.”

  “I like the sound of the Caribbean,” he grinned.

  It would certainly suit him, Ness thought as they skirted the castle and set off to the small bay where Merryn’s caravan stood sentinel over the marching waves. He was made for St Antonia and she could picture him running a dive boat or drinking mudslides in tiki bars as his skin turned the colour of smooth butterscotch. Mel would go crazy for him
. All the girls would.

  But was Ness prepared to go crazy for him? She wasn’t sure. Why did she keep thinking of eyes as grey as a wintery sea and recalling that slow sardonic smile?

  She needed help if she was still thinking of Max Reynard.

  Grace Note Bay was tucked away on the far side of the island. Although Ness had walked this way several times, it had always been at high tide; until now she’d never seen the pale sliver of sand or the ridge of darker rocks rising out of it. She followed Merryn along the narrow path, which zigzagged down past the plateau where his caravan was pitched, and onto the beach. As her sandals slithered she skidded a little, and he reached out and steadied her by resting one strong hand lightly upon her waist. Once they reached the sand, though, he dropped it away and she was strangely bereft. There had been something so solid and safe about his touch. She hadn’t realised just how alone she’d felt before.

  Unaware of her thoughts, Merryn gestured at the sweep of sand and sky. “Here it is: Grace Note Bay. I think your uncle named the place.”

  “It’s beautiful,” said Ness. Then she frowned. “What does it mean, a grace note?”

  “No idea! That’s one for Lucy to answer, or maybe our new child genius? Anyway, the best is still to come.”

  He placed the bag of food onto a rock and kicked off his deck shoes. Minutes later the white tee shirt was tugged over his head and he was bare-chested and golden. He waited for Ness to follow suit.

  She gulped, partly because his muscular body was powerful and partly because she was suddenly nervous. Telling herself off for being ridiculous – after all, back in St Antonia she lived in a bikini, and Merryn was just a friend in any case – Ness stepped out of her shorts and removed her vest top. The sun might have been warm but goosebumps dusted her skin when she saw desire flicker in those blue eyes. It felt as though she was on the edge of a precipice. The question was, did she want to topple over?