So when he raised her chin with his forefinger and brushed her soft mouth with his own, Adam Miller looked deep into Lucy’s eyes and knew with all his heart that he wanted to love and protect her for the rest of his life.
And the rest of his life began right now.
Chapter 32
July’s promise of long sunny days and balmy barbecue evenings slipped into a sullen August. Just like the tides, visitors ebbed and flowed from the island. They drifted through the castle and ate cake in the tea room, but there were too few of them to sustain the island financially. With a heavy heart Ness admitted to herself that the summer’s end would herald not only the autumn of this year, but also the autumn of her time on Pirran Island.
There had been no recovering from the reputational damage associated with the festival. People were still talking about the drugs raid and were well aware of Jamie’s subsequent court appearance. Moreover, Ness had felt honour-bound to refund every ticket and compensate any traders who’d paid for pitches. Once the costs of insurance and publicity were taken into account as well, she’d been horrified to discover that the festival had actually made a loss. With winter approaching and a lack of immediate income (other than Lucy’s royalties and whatever Merryn’s fishing might bring in), Ness could find no way of balancing the books. The causeway had been patched up as best as her budget would allow, but maintenance work on the castle had ground to a halt. She feared that any future gales would cause severe damage to it in its current state. Max was right: if something wasn’t done soon, the problems would become so extensive that repairs would no longer be viable.
She sighed. Since that charged visit to his office she’d heard nothing from Max. Foxy Lady hadn’t moved from her berth and the blinds in the big windows of his holiday home hadn’t been raised for weeks. The loan arrangements between them had remained them same, but it wasn’t the interest and repayments that were keeping Ness awake in the small hours so much as Max’s silence. What was he plotting? When would he pounce? He’d said that he wasn’t playing games, so what was happening? She’d seen Lucy’s footage of Jamie saying that Max had known nothing about his underhand tricks, and her heart had lifted. Maybe, just maybe…
Oh! Ness shook her head, furious with herself. Maybe what? Maybe Max had feelings for her? Maybe he was thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him? Reliving their kisses on an hourly basis? Who was she kidding here? He was a player. Men like Max Reynard took their amusement wherever they wished and used whatever means they could find in order to succeed. Just because he’d made a pretty speech about how she’d changed his vision didn’t mean a thing. Of course it didn’t. He was just spinning her the lines that all women wanted to hear. Jane Eyre had changed Rochester. Lizzy had changed Darcy. Ness had changed Max. It was nonsense. After all, Cathy had never changed Heathcliff – and dark, brooding Max had far more in common with him.
“You keep sighing. Is something wrong?” Merryn asked.
He was sitting opposite Ness at the kitchen table, with his socked feet up as always and munching his way through one of Annie’s doorstep bacon sandwiches. Newly freed from his cast, Merryn was itching to get back to work and was busy writing a business plan on Annie’s ancient laptop. Annie had been helping him by dictating bits of it and correcting his punctuation. While Merryn had been in plaster he’d been teaching Fern how to drive Guardian Angel; he and Fern were now putting together a plan to go netting once the mackerel arrived. The two of them envisaged making a fortune with their new venture, Pirran Island Fishing Holidays. They were so excited that Ness didn’t have the heart to tell them this would never happen – not unless Max allowed it, anyway.
It was time for Ness to face the harsh truth: she couldn’t pay Max back and she’d be lucky if she even managed to cover the island’s running costs until next month. Her uncle’s faith in her had been misplaced. She’d failed. The numerous invoices spread in front of her couldn’t have announced that fact more clearly if they’d jumped up and danced around the table.
“What a daft question, Merryn Hellier!” Annie rolled her eyes. “You have been present the last couple of months, haven’t you?”
He frowned. “But everything’s all right now, isn’t it? Jamie’s confessed about the drugs and had a massive kick up the bum, and the causeway’s been patched up. We’ll have a brilliant autumn. You’ll see. Everyone will come to Cornwall and we’ll have lots of visitors.”
“I think it might be a bit too late for visitors to save the day,” Ness said gently.
“You mean you’ll have to sell?” Fern asked, glancing up from the Aga where she was waiting for the kettle to boil. She looked shocked.
“I don’t think I’ll have much choice,” Ness replied. “Not unless something amazing happens.”
“Like a lottery win?” Merryn reached into his pocket and pulled out a pink ticket. “Already on it, Ness. See! I’m Camelot’s bitch!”
In spite of everything Ness laughed. “Gambling! Now why didn’t I think of that?”
“Mock all you like,” Merryn told her as he folded the ticket up and placed it under the table mat, “but I know that jackpot’s ours.”
“We don’t need a jackpot; we need a miracle,” Ness said.
Annie reached across and patted her hand. “Don’t give up, love. Miracles do happen.”
They fell silent for a moment and then the rain decided it was a good time to fall, flinging handfuls of heavy drops against the glass as the heavens opened.
“I’d better head to the tea room and give the girls a hand. They’re going to get busy now,” Annie said, hauling herself to her feet. “Ness, could you let Lucy know I’ll do the next shift for her? She’s busy with Josh and I don’t want to interrupt. Besides, the state she’s in these days she’s as good as useless. Her head’s so in the clouds she’s likely to ice a sausage roll or put soup in a teapot!”
Ness laughed again. This was so true. Since her cousin and Adam had got together, Lucy had been on cloud nine. She looked ten years younger, sang constantly and couldn’t stop smiling. It was wonderful to see, and Ness thought nobody deserved happiness more. At least if things fell apart here, as she feared they would, Lucy would be ready to move on. Merryn and Fern had their whole lives ahead of them and even Fred was talking about going to live near his daughter in Looe. Where that left her, Ness wasn’t sure. She’d be losing the funny little island family who’d come to mean everything to her, as well as the place she’d fallen in love with, and no amount of money would ever make up for that.
While Annie hunted for an umbrella and Fern replaced her as Merryn’s spellchecker, Ness wandered along the corridor towards the Small Hall. The rain made the space even darker than usual and she shivered, feeling as though invisible eyes were watching her from the shadows. Was it her Uncle Armand? Or maybe even her parents? Were they disappointed with her for not solving the puzzles they’d left behind? Were they angry that she’d failed?
“Oh! There has to be an answer!” she said aloud. “Just show me what it is!”
Listen to the music, Rose Hellier had said. It will lead you to the answers you are seeking. That was all very well, Ness thought, but it hadn’t meant anything to her. Pirran Castle was always full of music, whether it was Fred’s whistling or Merryn’s radio or Lucy playing the piano. Sometimes they listened to the Island Suite on the ancient CD player in the solar, but to see and hear Josh Miller perform the piece was something else. He was such a talented boy and Ness felt privileged to witness it.
Lucy smiled and patted the seat beside her. Ness slipped into the Small Hall as quietly as she could, her socked feet silent on the cold floor as she took her place on the tired sofa by the fireplace. As always her uncle’s portrait surveyed them from the wall where he was flanked by his brothers. Beth’s portrait caught her eye. Ness studied it for the hundredth time, wishing she knew what thoughts were hidden behind those slanting, mysterious eyes.
Josh sat at the tatty upright piano, his finger
s flying over the keys as he coaxed melodies from an elderly instrument that even Ness could tell was way past its best. Every now and then a note stuck and his face screwed up with irritation. When it happened for the fifth time in quick succession Lucy jumped to her feet and joined him, placing a calming hand on his shoulder.
“I know that’s annoying, love. I’ll get it tuned as soon as I can.”
Josh’s bottom lip jutted out. “It’s getting worse.” He slammed his finger down on the key and yet again there was no corresponding note. “It feels like there’s something stuck in it.”
Lucy grimaced. “Lord, don’t say that. It’s probably a rotting mouse or something ghastly.”
“Or a dead body! Cool!” The little boy’s face lit up. “Can we look? Maybe there’s a skeleton of a dead smuggler inside the piano?”
“Or a pirate?” Ness suggested, leaping up to join them.
“Yes! Like Jack Sparrow!” Josh agreed.
“He’d have to be very small! It’s more likely to be his parrot!” Laughing, Lucy gently nudged Josh off the stool. “Ness, would you give me a hand?”
Kneeling on the stool, Lucy popped a couple of catches and lifted the front of the piano off to reveal its strings and hammers. Passing this to Ness to put onto the sofa, she then unhooked the lid too and placed it carefully beside the instrument.
“Oh!” Lucy leaned forward. “That’s odd!”
“What?” said Ness.
“Is it a dead pirate?” Josh asked.
“Not quite. Have a look at this.” Lucy stood aside and pointed to the piano’s intestines. “There’s paper wrapped all around that string and blocking the hammer. No wonder the note wouldn’t work.”
“Maybe it’s a message from the pirate? Or a treasure map?” Josh suggested, hopping about excitedly.
“More likely it’s another bill,” Ness said.
Lucy was unwrapping the yellowing paper. It was tightly coiled and even when she’d freed it the paper insisted on springing back. As she smoothed it out, she frowned. “How strange.”
“What is it?” Ness stepped forward and peered over her cousin’s shoulder. “Oh! It’s a piece of music.” It might as well have been a message written in Chinese. “Is it one of our uncle’s compositions?”
“If it is, it’s a very strange one,” Lucy said, flattening the paper down again so that she could examine it. “Josh, would you do the honours?”
“OK!”
Josh leaned forward and, squinting at the music, which kept rolling up again until Lucy trapped the paper beneath two music books. Then he played the notes, frowning at the jumble of sound.
“Is it a modern piece? Like a musical Picasso or something?” Ness asked.
“You mean some kind of weird tone poem?” Lucy shook her head. “I don’t think so. It sounds like nonsense.”
Josh played the piece again and Lucy looked even more confused. “There’s nothing of any musical merit there at all as far as I can see.”
“So why would it be there inside the piano? Had it slipped?” Ness was confused.
Her cousin laughed and pointed at Armand’s portrait. “It’s there because he put it there. Firstly it’s his writing and secondly I can’t see how anything could slip into a closed lid and then coil itself around a piano string, can you?”
“No,” Ness admitted. Goodness, but her uncle had been a strange man. And she’d thought Addy was difficult. It must have run in the family!
“I wish it was a pirate map to take us to the treasure,” Josh said wistfully.
Lucy stared at him. Her blue eyes were wide. “Oh my God!” she breathed. “That’s it! Josh Miller, you are a genius.”
“I know that,” said Josh. “Can I have a Coke please?”
“Not right now, but you can go and get me a pen and some paper from the kitchen table,” Lucy said. “If you fancy a treasure hunt, that is?”
Josh didn’t need asking twice and flew to the kitchen.
“Treasure hunt?” Ness echoed. “Do you think you know what this is all about?” Listen to the music: it will lead you to the answers you are seeking. Was this what Rose Hellier had meant?
“Our uncle liked to play games,” Lucy said excitedly. “When he became poorly he was often bedbound, which drove him mad. One of his favourite distractions was to devise musical cryptograms and make me figure them out. Josh and I have played with these a bit too, just for fun. It’s a nerdy muso thing. Great! Thanks, Josh,” Lucy added as, panting, the little boy returned with some paper and felt pens. Spreading the blank paper out on the old trestle table, she began to draw a grid and fill the boxes with alphabetical letters.
“What’s a musical cryptogram?” Ness was feeling lost. Addy had clearly neglected her education in more ways than one.
“It’s a puzzle,” Josh explained kindly. “It’s a bit like when spies do stuff, like hide a message and use a code. What was the word you said it was called, Lucy?”
“Steganography. It’s when there’s a message hidden within some other kind of information that’s not secret. So for example it could be concealed in an ordinary-looking text or a picture – or music, of course. Uncle Armand showed me ages ago. It involves writing the letters of the alphabet in a grid like this one.” Lucy finished drawing and stood back. “OK, Ness, in other words this is a cryptogrammic sequence of musical notes. In other words, there’s a message hidden in that music which can only be cracked if we have the right method. If Josh plays the music again you should hear the message that I think I’ve just deciphered. The wily old rascal told me the answer would be at my fingertips!”
So Josh played the harsh and jumbled sounds very slowly while Lucy, her face filled with concentration, matched the musical notes to the letters on the grid. Note by note and letter by letter, Ness watched transfixed as the words appeared in felt pen. It was only when the last musical note shimmered into nothingness that she realised she’d been holding her breath.
Finished and never heard, a symphony of regrets, a lifetime of loss.
Her legacy is yours.
She watches from the wall.
Love is the key.
Ness’s heart was hammering so hard that she thought she was going to faint.
“My mother’s portrait,” she whispered.
Lucy’s eyes were huge. “You think he hid something there?”
Ness nodded. She did, and what was more she knew exactly what it was.
Between the three of them they managed to drag the heavy table across the Small Hall to the wall dominated by Addy’s paintings. Being the tallest, Ness clambered up until she could reach Beth’s portrait.
“Is there anything there?” Josh asked impatiently.
Ness clawed her fingers underneath the elaborate frame. The stone wall rasped against her knuckles, but the frame felt smooth beneath her fingertips. Reaching the farthest corner, she crept her hand up a little until she felt the cool kiss of metal tucked into the frame. Carefully and hardly daring to breathe, she drew out a small golden key.
“No wonder we couldn’t find it,” she said to Lucy. “Not the most obvious hiding place.”
It didn’t take them long to run up to Ness’s tower bedroom, where the locked chest was waiting. Scooping off her piled clothes, Ness fitted the key in the lock and turned it. There was a click as the clasp released, followed by a large creak as Ness lifted the heavy lid.
No! It was impossible! She couldn’t believe her eyes. Nestled in the case, as though waiting for her, was the same violin Beth Penwellyn was holding in her portrait.
Ness reached into the chest, her fingertips brushing the glowing wood. Her hands were trembling. Her mother had touched this instrument and holding it now was the closest Ness had been to Beth since she was a baby.
“A violin!” Josh was hopping from foot to foot. “Cool!”
“What’s underneath it?” Lucy asked as Ness picked the violin up and cradled it in her arms. Ducking under Ness’s arm she pulled out a foolscap folder and a
brown envelope.
“It’s got your name on it!” said Josh. “Look! It says, To Lucy!”
Lucy didn’t reply. She sank onto the rug with the folder clutched against her chest. She shook her head incredulously before she began to sob.
“Lucy! Are you all right?” Josh cried.
Ness was alarmed too. Lucy was usually the calmest of them all. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Lucy looked up and smiled through her tears, a smile of utter joy that took Ness’s breath away. “Oh, Ness, nothing’s wrong at all. Uncle Armand didn’t forget me any more than he ever lost his greatest work.” She held the folder up and fresh tears spilled over her cheeks. “The symphony wasn’t missing at all. It’s here! And he’s left it to me!”
Chapter 33
Lucy didn’t know what to do first. Laugh? Cry? Call the London agency that had represented Armand and give them the good news? Open the score? It lay in her hands and the responsibility was terrifying. Within the yellowed pages were sequences of music unheard for over a quarter of a century; every note had been inspired by the life her uncle had lived and the emotions he’d felt so deeply. There must have been a reason why he’d hidden the manuscript away until he was gone, and to open it up and play his composition felt like an intrusion.
“He’s left me the symphony,” she whispered, looking up at Ness. “It was the most precious possession he had. I can’t believe it.”
The Island Legacy Page 36