by Heidi Perks
Susan sighed. ‘Her exact words were that she’d gone into the cave to go to the toilet and was pulling her trousers down when Danny suddenly rushed out from the shadows and grabbed.’
Maria winced as she watched her friend. There was something distant about Susan as she gazed ahead of her, and she didn’t think it was just what had happened between their children. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said again. ‘I know Tess wouldn’t lie but I can’t believe Danny meant anything by it.’
Susan shook her head and reached for Maria’s hand. If anyone else understood Danny, it was her two friends. Both Susan and Annie knew first-hand how little Danny gave, but they also knew he wasn’t the type to hurt anyone.
Maria was pleased they’d spoken and she felt she could put the incident behind her. Move on. In fact, she’d let her guard down completely by the time she served dinner outdoors, and was already thinking about other things when Iona said, ‘It was a terrible thing that happened the other night.’
Maria watched Bonnie’s mouth drop open, her fork caught midway as she prodded a potato.
‘I hope you’re feeling okay about it, Danny?’ Iona went on.
Maria glanced at her son, his cheeks burning, his bottom lip twitching. ‘I don’t think—’ she started as Danny pushed back his chair, one of its legs catching in the ground, sending it flying as he ran off to the treehouse and up its ladder. Every one of them turned and watched him.
Stella, she could see, was desperate to go after him but Maria held a hand over her daughter’s to keep her from doing so. David tapped his fingers on the table, unsure what to do about the sudden explosion. Bonnie’s face had flared an angry red, her jaw set hard, and Maria wished, just for once, that she could see through her wrath and love her brother for who he was, like the rest of them did.
‘Oh dear, I think I might have said the wrong thing,’ Iona said at last.
If the girl expected the others to assure her she’d done nothing wrong, she was in luck, for David spoke up. ‘It’s really not your fault, Iona,’ he was saying and soon he’d managed to move the conversation, stilted and edgy, while Maria continued to stare at the ladder.
She couldn’t bring herself to reassure Iona. Not when the girl’s words felt hard and empty, almost planned.
As she looked at her daughters and their guest, and the empty seat where her son should be, unease settled over her. This wasn’t what her family dinner should look like. One of them missing. Someone different in his place.
Nerves skittered through her body like a thousand bugs, but still she didn’t realise the true extent of how this stranger could tear her family apart.
PRESENT
Chapter Fourteen
Freya watches my reaction closely. I can feel the intensity of her stare as my life feels like it’s chipping apart again, tiny fragments falling away.
‘Why have you told me it’s Iona?’ I say. ‘Surely you’re not supposed to.’
Freya leans her head back, looks at a spot in the distance. ‘I didn’t know whether to or not, I still hadn’t made my mind up until we got here. To be honest, I wanted to give you some kind of warning.’
‘Why would I need a warning?’
Freya looks at me like I’m stupid. ‘Because as soon as the news comes out this lot are all going to react and—’ She sighs and breaks off. ‘Oh, come on, Stella. She was always at your house, with your family. The islanders are all so keen to point fingers, and as soon as the ones who didn’t know you find that out, they’ll all be turning to you for the answers you don’t have.’
I tear my gaze away from her.
‘You know I’m right,’ she says more gently.
‘Why are you looking out for me?’
She shrugs. ‘I feel like you might need a friend. Listen, I need to go, but here, take my number.’ She passes me a card. ‘And just be careful. Like I say, they’ll draw links even where there aren’t any.’
An hour has passed and I haven’t left my room. My mind whirs with images of the Iona I remember, full of life, laughing and joking around our dinner table. As much as it breaks my heart to think she was killed, there is someone else who it will affect even more. I need to tell Bonnie before she hears it elsewhere.
As I walk back to the café and past the white picket fence, I see a crowd gathered beside the police tent on the other side of our old garden. The news must have already spread, bringing out the islanders to swap their theories and chase gossip. It doesn’t surprise me, it’s what they’ve always done, only today it is more overt.
Chastened by Freya’s words, I linger for a moment, watching them, careful to keep my distance. But I have nothing to hide and I refuse to feel guilty over something I have no more idea about than any of them. Eventually I walk around the garden until I’m on the outskirts of the group of mostly unfamiliar faces. Women and men younger than me, some with small children of their own; teenagers; an old couple shuffling their way to the front. A detective is answering their questions calmly, satisfying their need to be fed first-hand details. They look excitable as they chatter among themselves, in contrast to the smaller group who are huddled together by the line of trees that mark the edge of the woods.
These are the people I recognise. Annie is speaking to Ruth Taylor. Both of them look on, still and solemn. To their right is Graham Carlton, his black hat pulled low over his head again, and next to him is another woman who when she turns in my direction I see is his wife, Susan, though she has aged almost beyond recognition. Her thin frame is stooped, her once blonde hair a shock of white. From where I stand her skin looks grey.
My eyes flick between the two groups. The islanders I know and this new, younger group who continue to be animated, their voices rising. And somewhere hovering between them is me.
I glance to my left to where a reporter is being filmed, and when I look more closely I see she’s the one who reported on the body last Friday night. Already it appears the news is being broadcast to the rest of the world, which means Bonnie might already know, and will assume I hadn’t bothered telling her. By instinct I pull out my phone but of course there’s no signal.
I know I should go back to the café and call Bonnie straight away, but Annie has noticed me and splinters from her group as she beckons me over. The closer I get, the more the others line up like a mini row of soldiers, waiting for me to reach them.
‘Stella.’ Annie holds out her arms. ‘I take it you’ve heard,’ she says gravely.
‘I can’t believe it’s Iona.’ I let her take my hands.
She nods. ‘You remember the rest of us?’ she says, waving her arm behind her.
‘I do.’ I turn to Susan. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘Only wish it were in better circumstances,’ she says, then she holds out her arms too and pulls me in for a hug, murmuring in my ear, ‘I am so sorry about your mum. She was a dear friend. I missed her a lot when you all left.’
‘Thank you,’ I say as she releases me, and when I look up I notice Graham has walked away.
‘My dear,’ Annie says, taking hold of me again. ‘Let’s have a walk.’ She steers me on to the path that leads to the village. She is walking slowly and it looks like the weight of her heavy coat is drowning her small body. ‘I was rather hoping you wouldn’t still be here,’ she says once we are safely out of earshot. ‘Especially now we know who the body belongs to,’ she adds, her voice dropping even though there’s no one else around.
‘What do you mean by that?’ I ask.
Annie pauses, her arm still linked through mine. Worried eyes search my face and I can see how much this is putting a strain on her. ‘I know what some of them will be saying, I’ve seen how it works. They draw their own conclusions. Of course Iona was only here that one summer and—’ She breaks off and looks back at my old house. ‘And then as far as everyone understood it you all had to leave, only days apart. It’s better you go home, Stella. Back to Winchester and your sister.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I think you do.’
‘No, I mean she was called away, I remember that. But she must have come back.’
Annie shakes her head. ‘The day she got on that ferry was the last time anyone saw her.’
I turn away because I can’t bring myself to look at Annie.
I know this isn’t true. I know that Iona came back again before we left because I saw her. Only I never told anyone else.
And I know that one other person saw her too, and it’s time we spoke.
Chapter Fifteen
There are so many people milling about the village that I’m reluctant to use the café’s internet to phone Bonnie, but I have no choice.
I am glad Meg’s not there and I don’t have to swap pleasantries with the stranger behind the counter as I focus on what I need to do. As soon as my mobile picks up the WiFi, I see there are sixteen missed calls from my sister. My heart beats rapidly as I dial her number.
‘Finally!’ she screams when she answers. ‘Do you have any idea—?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say quietly. ‘There’s no reception here at all and—’
‘You could have called me as soon as you knew. Not let me see it on the news,’ she shouts.
‘Bon, I’ve only just found out. I came straight back to the café so I could speak to you. They must have aired it immediately.’ Silence. ‘Bonnie?’ I say.
‘It’s Iona,’ she says finally. ‘I mean, shit, Stella.’
‘I know,’ I murmur. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘She was the only friend I had on that God-awful island. Who would kill her?’ she says angrily. ‘And how the hell did no one know she was missing?’ Bonnie sucks in a tight breath. ‘I only knew her one summer. Why does it hurt so much?’
‘If she meant something to you it doesn’t matter how long you knew her.’
‘It’s the fact she was murdered,’ Bonnie says. ‘That’s what makes it so awful.’
My mind strays to Jill. Would her death have been even harder if she’d been killed? I don’t have the answer.
‘She was the only friend I had,’ Bonnie says again. ‘The first person who wanted to spend time with me. I never had that before her.’
‘Of course you did,’ I say, though I know this isn’t true.
‘No one wanted to be friends with me. But she did.’
I shift on my chair, keeping an eye on the customers, making sure no one is listening. ‘Bonnie, you remember she was called away?’ I say. ‘What exactly happened? Wasn’t she called back to see a sick relative, was it an aunt?’
For a moment Bonnie doesn’t speak, then she snaps, ‘What are you still doing there?’
‘I’m coming back,’ I sigh, thinking of all the people who don’t want me here either. ‘I’ll have to wait until morning now, though,’ I go on. ‘Please tell me what happened when Iona left.’
‘What are you getting at?’
‘Just – I don’t know – how did she seem to you? She must have been upset when she got the call, especially if it meant she had to suddenly go home.’
Bonnie is silent again.
‘Bon, you were the closest one to her,’ I urge. The more my sister clams up, the more my stomach ties itself into knots. What is she hiding?
‘I realise that,’ Bonnie snaps. ‘It means the police will be back again and they’ll want to know why you’re there, digging around for something completely irrelevant.’
Is it irrelevant? Something supposedly made Iona leave – or at least made the islanders think she did – but the fact remains she was here again only two days later. And after what I saw and who I saw her with, my mind is going into overdrive, spilling out conclusions I can only pray aren’t right.
‘I mean, your timing couldn’t be more perfect,’ she goes on. ‘It’s going to look suspicious.’
‘Alright, Bonnie, I told you I’m coming back. Will you just tell me what I’m asking for? Was there anything you remember about what happened when she was called away?’
‘No,’ she says after a beat. ‘Nothing at all.’
I clutch the phone hard against my ear until my knuckles turn white, glancing around, but the customers are fewer now and those left are chattering among themselves. ‘You’re sure about that?’ I hiss.
‘Totally sure,’ she replies sharply.
I grit my teeth, shaking my head. What are you holding out on me, Bonnie? ‘And she definitely left the island? You didn’t see her again?’
‘No, I never saw her again.’ Bonnie’s voice is smoother now, which lets me know at least this is the truth.
‘Did she have any other family?’ I ask.
‘No,’ Bonnie says. ‘She hadn’t seen her mum in three years and had no idea who her dad was. She told me she used to pretend he was a rock star when she was a kid, that he made loads of money and one day he’d come back for her.’
‘That’s kind of sad,’ I say, despite the other thoughts racing through my head.
‘I don’t know. She laughed about it when she told me. God, I can’t believe she was killed.’
‘But she had this sick relative,’ I go on blindly. ‘I mean, whoever that was must have realised she was missing.’
‘Why are you interrogating me? Do you think I killed her?’ Bonnie snaps.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Of course I don’t.’ I squeeze my eyes tight, pressing my fingers against them. ‘But you tell me you saw her leave the island and—’
‘I never told you I saw her leave,’ Bonnie interjects. ‘I didn’t. I was supposed to, but—’ She pauses. ‘I never turned up. We’d had an argument. The last time I was supposed to see her I never went and now she’s dead.’
I hear a cry escape her and wish I could be with Bonnie right now so I could wrap my arms around her. But I also need to get some answers. ‘How do you know she left, then?’ I ask, fearing I already know.
‘Because Dad told me she did,’ she retorts. ‘Are you more interested in playing detective than my feelings? And you’re the counsellor …’
But I’m no longer listening. Dad would have been the last one to see Iona because he’d have taken her back on his ferry.
Yet I’m pretty sure my dad was lying.
On Wednesdays Olivia is always at work, which means she won’t be at home, looking after Dad. This is a good thing, I tell myself as I dial their home number and wait for the connection. It’s him I need to speak to. I listen to the rapid beats of my heart and when he answers I draw in a tight breath. ‘Hi, Dad, it’s me, Stella.’
‘Stella …’ His voice is warm and soft, and as my heartbeats slow I toy with the idea that I could have an entire conversation with him that doesn’t need to even nudge the edges of what’s happened. I could avoid it altogether.
‘How are you, my darling?’ he asks and the familiar cloak of guilt wraps itself around me. I know he probably doesn’t remember how long it’s been since I last saw him but it feels like he is brushing over it because he’ll always forgive me.
My fingers play with the seam of my coat, rubbing it roughly as my breath lodges in my throat. ‘I’m good. How are you, Dad?’
‘Not so bad, love,’ he says. ‘Not so bad. I’ve been in the garden. It’s starting to rain. Have you got rain?’
I glance outside the café window. The sky has darkened and it looks like it might start. ‘Not yet,’ I tell him.
‘And how’s Andrew?’
I close my eyes at the name. How he manages to pluck it out so easily every time I have no idea, but Andrew and I split up two years ago. ‘Fine, Dad,’ I say. ‘Andrew’s fine.’
‘That’s good,’ he murmurs, his voice drifting away, and I wonder if there’s a chance Olivia is there. Often I’d have to haul Dad back into my conversation when she was; we’d always be pulling him like a tug of war.
In the early days I asked Dad if I could see him on his own and to my surprise he once agreed. But when I turned up at the café I saw Olivia hovering over the table, flapping the menu in front of him as
she impatiently waited for him to choose.
‘I thought she wasn’t coming,’ I said, as I slipped on to a chair opposite him and she went to order.
‘Oh, you don’t mind, do you, love?’ he smiled, asking so casually as if he had no idea there was a problem, or if he did he was too scared to confront it.
She won in the end. She got the prize. Maybe I let her or maybe eventually I didn’t see the point of the fight. If he wanted to leave Mum for someone like her I wasn’t going to change anything.
‘Dad, listen, I’m back on Evergreen,’ I tell him and wait for his reaction. One of Olivia’s unspoken conditions was that we forget Dad had a life before her, and as such any talk of the island between us faded many years ago.
‘Oh? What are you doing there?’
‘Well, did you see the news at the weekend?’ I ask. ‘Do you know what happened?’
‘The news …’ his voice fades.
‘About Evergreen,’ I prompt. ‘It was on TV. They found a body on the island.’
‘I don’t really remember watching the TV,’ he says.
‘But do you know what’s happened?’ I go on. ‘Where they found the body?’
There is silence for a moment as I wait for him to answer. ‘I think I do,’ he says at last. ‘I think someone came to talk to me about it.’
‘Dad,’ I say patiently, dipping my voice so the remaining two customers don’t hear me. ‘They found a body buried just outside our garden. Dad …’ I press, a little louder. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘Yes, my love, I heard, but it’s really raining now. I think I need to bring the clothes in.’
‘You have clothes out there?’ I mutter. ‘Dad, did you know that they’ve identified the body?’
‘No,’ he says slowly, more definitely this time. ‘No, my darling, I didn’t know that.’
I wait but he doesn’t ask. ‘It’s Iona,’ I tell him. ‘Do you remember her?’