The Island Legacy

by Ruth Saberton

  “Because the island should have been mine!” He leapt up from the chair and began to pace the room. “Who the hell is Nessa Penwellyn anyway? Why should she have what’s rightfully my inheritance? I’ll do anything I can to make sure she doesn’t keep it. Anything. Believe me, I’ve hardly even started.”

  “Jamie, what you’ve done is criminal,” Lucy said. “I’m going to tell the police.”

  “Tell them what? The mad ramblings of a sad old spinster? They’ll laugh at you.”

  She picked up her phone, fiddling frantically with the keypad while her brother sneered.

  “You can’t even work a mobile. Call away; they can have a laugh at your menopausal ramblings. It’s proof they want, not a pathetic fantasy.”

  “Good job I was videoing this entire conversation then. Hopefully that will be all the evidence anyone will need.”

  Jamie’s mouth swung open. “What?”

  “You heard me. I recorded our entire conversation using the video camera app. You see, Jamie, one thing we sad spinsters have on our hands is time. Time to figure out how drugs appear in holdalls and how to use apps.” She couldn’t believe how calm she sounded when inside she was quaking. “Isn’t that something?”

  “You’re bullshitting,” Jamie said scathingly. “You don’t know how to do all that.”

  “Really?” Lucy looked him right in the eye. “I know, why don’t you check your mobile and see? I’ve compressed the file and emailed it over for you. Isn’t technology amazing?”

  But her brother was too busy fishing through his jacket pocket to reply. Yanking out his phone, he peered at the screen in disbelief, howling in rage when he realised that she wasn’t bluffing. Lucy sent out a silent thank you to Josh. His patience while teaching her the rudiments of iPhone wizardry hadn’t been wasted. Maybe she’d take him up on Pokémon Go too? Who knew where that could lead?

  “You sly bitch!” Slamming his phone onto the table, Jamie made a lunge for her handset, ripping it from her grasp and hurling it at the stone fireplace. There was a sharp crack but Lucy knew the gesture was pointless. The file was saved in her email folder but, more importantly, she’d copied Adam and Ness in too. There was no way his confession was going to be lost.

  Jamie glowered at her. “You’re supposed to be my sister!”

  “And you’re supposed to be my brother!” Lucy shot back. She was close to tears. Having him confess her darkest suspicions had been horrible, almost as horrible as the cold sense of betrayal creeping over her. “Look, let’s go to the police together. Maybe with Ness too? There wasn’t enough cannabis in that bag for the police to press charges. They’ll probably let you off with a caution. I’m sure Ness won’t want to press charges either if you put things right and apologise.”

  “Put things right? I was putting things right! I was getting my inheritance back!” he screeched. “But you couldn’t bear that, could you? You had to spoil everything! Well, I hope you’re happy now with your precious Ness. Good luck when she loses everything! And as for you, you old bastard,” he added, sweeping his hand across the mantelpiece and sending Armand’s picture tumbling to the floor with a crash, “if you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you.”

  With this parting shot he stormed out of the library. Moments later Lucy heard the kitchen door slam, followed by the roar of the Range Rover’s engine. Where was he going? Craning her neck to look down from the high tower, she saw that the telltale bubbles were already edging the cobbles of the causeway. Surely he wouldn’t make it to the other side, even driving at his usual pace. It was madness to even try.

  But Jamie wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d always thought he could succeed where Canute had failed – and Lucy could only watch as the black car accelerated into St Pirran’s Bay.

  Chapter 31

  Summer days didn’t come any better than this, Adam Miller decided as he found a seat on the hotel terrace and set his cold beer down on the table. He had a drink, his work was done for the time being and the sun was shining. As always in high summer, the beautiful people had flocked to Cornwall and were lounging on rattan sofas with wine glasses held loosely in their hands. The men were wearing open-necked shirts in nautical tones, the women were clad in floaty dresses and the children were playing on the beach in their shortie wetsuits. The tide was racing back in over the golden sand and soon they’d be jumping from the outer pier with shrieks and big splashes. Maybe this afternoon he and Josh could sail to the next bay and grab some supper too.

  All things considered, life in Cornwall was very good. Not better than it had been before with Elly, but good nevertheless and in a different way. Perhaps some things hadn’t panned out as he’d hoped – and his friendship with Max had certainly been tested – but St Pirran was most definitely home. Moving here had been the right choice. Adam only had to look at Josh, tanned and freckled now and with his hair bleached from sunshine and salt, to know this.

  “Can I have another?” his son asked, slurping up the dregs of his cola through a straw.

  “Mate, I’ve only just bought you that. What did you do, inhale it?” Adam asked, rather alarmed by the speed-drinking. It didn’t bode well for when his son discovered pints.

  “I’m thirsty,” Josh said. “It’s really hot. Can I have another one? Please?”

  Adam ruffled his son’s hair. “That stuff will rot your teeth. Besides, it’s bad for you. Did you know they use it to clean blood off roads after accidents?”

  “Cool!” Wide-eyed, Josh looked impressed – which wasn’t the effect his father had hoped for. “Mum used it to clean the stains down the loo.”

  She did? That was news to Adam. No wonder there’d never been any left whenever he’d gone on the hunt for a sugary hangover hit. He was just about to make a comment to this effect when he was struck by a realisation that momentarily robbed him of speech.

  Josh had just spoken about his mum. He’d not been prompted by Adam or cajoled by a counsellor but had mentioned Elly as casually as he was now chatting away about being allowed a second fizzy drink and some crisps. There were no tears or worried expressions. In fact, he was smiling.

  There was a lump in Adam’s throat. This was the moment he’d been praying for and it had arrived without any fanfare.

  “Well, who am I to say no on such a hot day?” he said. “Another bottle of Mum’s loo cleaner coming up.”

  Josh giggled at this, and Adam found he was smiling too. He was just pushing his chair back to head to the bar when his phone beeped to herald the arrival of an email. Automatically, Adam checked it. He’d been tentatively putting out some feelers for work ever since it had become obvious that the castle project was grinding to a halt from both directions, so hopefully this was good news. Opening the folder, he was taken aback to see a message from Lucy waiting in his inbox.

  Since when did Lucy email?

  “Josh, did you give Lucy my email address?”

  The little boy nodded. “Yep. I’ve been teaching her how to use her phone. She was rubbish before. It’s a bit like a swap, Dad. She teaches me to play the piano and I teach her how to play with the iPhone. Cool, huh?”

  Adam frowned. There was a video file attached to a blank message. His finger hovered over the keypad. He hoped it wasn’t a virus.

  “You shouldn’t give out my personal details to people, son,” he said.

  Josh looked at him as though he was mad. “Dad, Lucy isn’t people. She’s Lucy! Anyway, everyone knows you want her to be your girlfriend.”

  They did? Adam was so stunned by this that he pressed the phone’s screen quite by accident, and now a film was starting to play. Great. A clogged-up mobile was the last thing he needed if he was going to be job hunting.

  “I think she’d be a nice girlfriend for you,” Josh was saying matter-of-factly. “You always smile when you’re with Lucy. The only bad thing is you might get fat because she makes very nice cakes. Also I think we’d have more cushions in our house if Lucy lived there too. But Biscuit could come and
that would be well cool.”

  “Mate, I don’t think—” Adam began, his face hot, but he stopped mid-sentence when he realised what the film was. In spite of the sun’s warmth, unease trickled between his shoulder blades; he was watching a puce-faced Jamie screaming at Lucy. Turning away from his son, Adam raised the volume of his handset so that he could hear the entire conversation. By the time it was finished he was filled with dread. The film had been shot scarcely ten minutes previously, and although it had confirmed his own suspicions, it worried him that Lucy was alone with her deranged brother.

  Adam had to get to her. Jamie was unbalanced and there was no telling what he might do.

  “Josh, show this film to Val at reception and tell her to call the police, at once. They need to get to the island,” he told his son, crouching down and handing him the phone. “Then wait with Val, OK? Understand? Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, Dad,” Josh said. He sprinted across the terrace and into the hotel, all thoughts of cola and crisps forgotten.

  The tide was racing in across the sand, bubbling at the edges of the path. The locals always took this to be a sign that the cut-off was imminent. Adam knew there was hardly any time to waste if he was to make it across to the island. He tore down the hotel steps onto the beach and ran over the sand towards the causeway. If he was fast enough he could make it to the castle on foot. But if not? Then he was going to bloody well swim. Adam wasn’t leaving Lucy alone for a second longer than he had to. She’d finally been brave enough to stand up to her brother and he was going to be there for her.

  And if she wanted, he’d be there for a lot longer too…

  Adam was halfway between the hotel and the causeway, seawater swirling around his ankles, when a black Range Rover hurtled across the castle’s sloping lawn and hit the causeway at speed. Spray flew from its tyres in the driver’s haste to beat the incoming tide. Already the water was lapping across the cobbles. The big vehicle might be designed for all terrains but it wasn’t amphibious – and travelling at that rate across a surface that was still damaged was destined to end in disaster.

  Jamie.

  He was flooring it. The automatic gearbox and traction control were doing their very best to keep the low-profile tyres close to the greasy cobbles, but the clever engineering could only do so much: it could hardly be expected to compensate for Jamie’s reckless driving. As Adam watched and the car grew closer, he saw to his huge relief that Jamie was the sole passenger. Lucy was safe on the island.

  He hoped.

  The waves were breaking over the causeway now. As Adam watched in disbelief, the speeding car hit the water like a skater on ice, aquaplaning across the surface with balletic grace before spinning one hundred and eighty degrees and lurching over the edge of the path. The two-foot drop, combined with the force of a couple of tonnes of Land Rover’s finest hitting the water, created an enormous wave that swamped the bonnet and was sucked greedily into the exhaust. The motor gulped seawater for a moment, before a second wave took hold of the car and returned it to the edge of the causeway. The driver revved the engine furiously and the traction control system tried its hardest, but the tyres spun in vain on the green cobbles while the tide crept higher up the door. Adam started to laugh. He suspected there was no car in the world that could have managed to get Jamie Penwellyn out of this one. Over a metre of water was now lapping against the shiny metal flanks.

  Jamie opened the door now and clambered out, the expression on his face as black as the paintwork. He had no choice but to wade to shore and hope one of the local mechanics took pity on him. Somehow, Adam didn’t think help would be forthcoming. The “oiks” in St Pirran had long memories.

  The tide was sweeping over the sand. In an attempt to beat it, Adam made his way to what remained of the beach, where he could cut to the halfway point of the causeway. Jamie was headed straight for him but Adam couldn’t have cared less about that; he just wanted to reach Lucy. He hopped up onto the cobbles and tried to run, but they were greasy and he slithered dangerously.

  “Sir! Wait here! Don’t go across, please.”

  Turning around, Adam saw that a police Discovery was parked up on the harbourside. Two policemen and a grey-haired man in a suit had joined him and were watching Jamie with faint amusement.

  Adam felt a glow of pride. So Josh had done his bit.

  “Shall we apprehend him, Sir?” asked one policeman.

  “I don’t think he’s going very far,” the suited man observed wryly. Then, as Jamie locked the car with a loud beep, the man added, “And I don’t think he’s in any danger of having his vehicle stolen either. Interesting he wants the boot secured. I wonder why?”

  “Shall we wade over, sir?” the younger of the two policemen asked eagerly.

  The DCI smiled. “I think we should let him come to us. After all, where else is he going? Back to the castle? Or maybe France?”

  “My friend’s in the castle,” Adam interrupted. “Lucy Penwellyn? I need to make sure she’s safe.”

  “She’s fine, sir. We’ve already spoken to her,” the Detective Chief Inspector said. “She’s understandably very upset but she’s unhurt. As soon as Mr Penwellyn is taken care of you’re free to go across – although you may have to swim over at this rate.”

  Adam nodded but he was filled with impatience. Could bloody Jamie walk any more slowly? It seemed to take forever before he reached them, and even when he did he showed no sign of stopping.

  “Jamie Penwellyn?” The DCI stepped forward. “Detective Chief Inspector Allen, Kernow CID. We’d like you to accompany us to the station and help with some enquiries.”

  “And I’d like a gold Ferrari but I’m not about to get one, am I?” retorted Jamie rudely. “Can you get out of my way? As even you can see, I’ve got a car to sort out.”

  “Ah yes, that’s going to be a danger to shipping soon. I’ll have to inform the coastguard,” deadpanned DCI Allen. “Leave that with me, sir. We’ll take care of it while you come with us to help answer some questions.”

  “About what?” Jamie demanded. “Something my hysterical halfwit of a sister’s said? You’re wasting your time. Anything I may have said to her was just a joke.”

  “With all due respect it isn’t a funny one, sir.” Detective Chief Inspector Allen certainly wasn’t looking amused. “Anyway, by strange coincidence we were already on our way here to have a little chat with you before we were made aware of any other issues. You might be interested to know that we have an acquaintance of yours in our custody. A Mr Logan Barrie?”

  “Never heard of him,” snapped Jamie, but Adam noticed that a muscle near Jamie’s eye had started to twitch.

  “How strange. He seems to know you very well,” said DCI Allen, a note of faux surprise in his voice. “He’s told us all sorts of interesting information that I’m sure you’ll be very keen to set us straight on.”

  “If he’s a lanky guy with dark hair and pale skin, I saw Mr Penwellyn handing him some cash in Bay Street last week,” Adam said slowly. “I’d be happy to make a statement to that effect if it helps.”

  The look Jamie shot Adam should have laid him out flat on the seabed.

  “I might have known you’d be behind this,” Jamie hissed.

  Adam shrugged. “Just doing my civic duty. Besides, if you don’t know Mr Barrie then it doesn’t matter what I think I’ve seen, does it?”

  A crowd was gathering on the quayside, and even from here the onlookers’ murmuring and excited chatter could be heard. Aware that he was becoming a spectacle, Jamie attempted to barge past – only to find his way blocked by the two uniformed officers. He had a choice between leaping into the sea or assaulting a policeman; in other words, no choice at all.

  “Are you arresting me?” he asked.

  “Only if you won’t come with us voluntarily, sir.” The DCI seemed nonchalant, which was understandable given that Jamie was neatly trapped. “The choice is yours. Personally, I’d come willingly as it’ll look far bette
r for you if you cooperate. But if you want to give the good townspeople the excitement of watching an arrest, that’s entirely your call.”

  “Fine, I’ll come with you,” Jamie spat and, shoving his way past, splashed across the causeway.

  Detective Chief Inspector Allen turned to Adam. “I think that went pretty well, all things considered. Feel free to go across now, if you still want to and if you still can. We’ll be in touch about that statement.”

  Adam didn’t need asking twice. Nothing was going to stop him from reaching Lucy. Barely noticing the icy temperature of the water or the fact that it was almost to his shins, he surged through the rising tide towards the island. He needed to be quick, otherwise the water would soon race in and sweep him off his feet. Adam was determined that if anyone was going to be swept off their feet today, it would be Lucy. She’d been her brother’s prisoner in that castle for far too long and it was time she was set free.

  Somehow he managed to increase his pace, and by the time the water was swirling around his knees Adam was staggering up the slight incline where the causeway met the island slipway. He didn’t think he’d ever feel his feet again, and his deck shoes had long since been taken by the sea, but none of this mattered a jot now that he could see Lucy running down the path towards him. Her face was blotchy with weeping and her hair was falling loose from its ponytail, but to Adam she’d never looked lovelier.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I should have listened to you. I should never have believed Jamie. I’m so sorry!”

  “None of that matters,” Adam said simply. “I promise nothing matters but you, Lucy, absolutely nothing.”

  “Really?”

  He held out his arms. “None of the rest of it matters at all. Just that you’re safe. Don’t you see? I love you, Lucy. I love you.”

  She paused momentarily before her lip wobbled. Then, with tears spilling over her cheeks, she stepped forward into his embrace. Adam held Lucy Penwellyn against his heart, his arms wrapped tightly around her trembling body as he pressed kisses onto her soft hair, her wet eyelids and her poor red nose. Life was brief, and sometimes cruel, but love was a precious gift; it was something to be cherished. As Lucy nestled against him she felt so right, so familiar, and so very Lucy that Adam vowed he’d never let her go again. He wanted nothing more than to fold her into himself and love her, keep her safe and find a million and one ways of making her happy.