Come Back For Me

by Heidi Perks

  David punched his fist into the kitchen counter. Iona hadn’t turned up for the eight o’clock ferry that morning. He supposed there should be a part of him that shouldn’t be surprised, but Maria had been convinced she would show. He’d even heard Iona regurgitating the lie about her sick aunt to Bonnie. ‘Have you seen her?’ he demanded.

  Maria shook her head. ‘What about Bonnie? She was supposed to say goodbye.’

  ‘No.’ Bonnie was still upstairs in bed. He’d looked in on her only moments ago. ‘What if something’s already happened to Iona?’ he hissed. Maria had barely spoken to him all night, barely looked at him. He knew he’d done wrong. He shouldn’t have admitted the truth to the young girl, but she’d opened up her heart and he couldn’t bear to see her pain. Not when he felt partly responsible.

  Besides, Iona already knew what they had done seventeen years ago. He’d seen it in her eyes. She might have come for the wrong child, but Iona was clever, she’d worked it out. David shook his head as he stared at his wife. She looked like a stranger to him that morning.

  He sighed deeply. The truth was he could tell himself it was Iona who brought the confession out of him, but deep down he’d been waiting to unbridle his guilt since the moment they’d made that terrible decision all those years ago. He’d lived with the burden for years, and many times he’d considered whether there’d be relief when he finally was honest. He’d convinced himself there would be. That maybe then he’d feel like he’d paid for what they’d done and the heavy weight of culpability would be lifted. Iona had pressed a button inside him and he’d wanted to be liberated.

  Only he didn’t feel relieved. It hadn’t actually surfaced.

  ‘Is she all you’re worried about?’ Maria was crying, having turned to glare at him. ‘What about us?’ She slapped a hand hard against her chest.

  ‘You know she’s not all I’m worried about,’ he replied, as calmly as he could. ‘But we do have to find her.’

  ‘You mean I have to find her,’ his wife snapped, picking up her house keys, tossing them in her bag.

  By midday Maria had found no sign of her.

  Every time she returned to the house she would check in on all the children, who thankfully seemed blissfully unaware their family was hanging by a precariously thin thread. Bonnie was in her room, refusing to come out. Danny was in the treehouse and Stella was reading at the bottom of the garden.

  Each time she would ask them if they were okay, her voice high-pitched, her feet tapping the ground, desperate to get back to her search. She knew she looked frantic but the children were luckily absorbed in themselves. How she had wanted to scoop them into her arms, hold them together. Get off the island themselves. Run.

  She’d lost count of the number of times she’d scoured it for signs of Iona, but each time she’d returned home she would linger again, watching one of them, her pulse ticking like a bomb. What would she have to do to keep them safe?

  Anything, she’d told herself, as she set out again. Anything.

  She didn’t see how else the girl could have got off the island, but by evening, when there was still no sign of Iona, she began to think she must have. Yet Maria went out once more.

  As she left the house she noticed Bonnie watching from her bedroom window, her hands splayed against the glass. Maria turned her back on her eldest and carried on towards the woods. Stella was fast asleep in bed. Danny had gone out an hour ago. Usually she would ask where her son was going, but that night she hadn’t.

  The woods were dark but she carried a torch, arcing it wide as she scurried between the trees. When she came out on the path she scanned the lakes and then took the route that circled the island, leading past the clifftop and Pirate’s Cove, all the time flashing her light on empty beaches. She briefly hesitated outside the pub but didn’t linger, and wasn’t far from home when a scream filled the air. It wasn’t a piercing one, but it was enough for her to stop and turn to the right.

  When she heard another, she flashed the torch in its direction and stepped off the path. As soon as she saw the two figures in the small clearing by the edge of the cliff, she knew who they were.

  Danny had heard his mum’s voice, crying out, demanding what was going on, but he couldn’t let go of Iona’s arm. In her other she had his drawing book, stretched out of his reach, and as much as he’d yelled at Iona to give it back, she wouldn’t. She just laughed at him instead.

  ‘Danny, what are you doing?’ his mum cried. She was right behind him now and he knew she’d make him let go of Iona, but if he did he might never get his drawing book back.

  But then his mum seemed more interested in her instead. ‘Iona, you were supposed to have left,’ she said.

  ‘Silly me,’ Iona replied, her teeth gritted as she turned to look at Maria. ‘I must have missed the ferry.’ Her eyes were as black as coal yet they still sparkled fiercely bright. Maybe Danny’s mum would finally see in her what he had for weeks – that Iona wasn’t actually that nice.

  ‘You never had any intention of going?’ his mum was saying. She sounded pretty annoyed about it, but then if her aunt was sick she should have gone.

  ‘I was never here for the money,’ Iona snapped.

  Danny didn’t have a clue what they were talking about, but in the moment they both seemed to have forgotten he was standing there.

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ His mum’s voice was shrill and he could tell by the way she panted that she was scared of the answer.

  Iona laughed. ‘Oh well, let me see.’ Danny watched the arm that was clutching his book relax. If he caught her off guard … ‘I could start by telling Danny here what you did. Would you be interested, Dan?’ she said, cocking her head to one side.

  His mum took a step closer. ‘Danny, get back to the house,’ she hissed.

  He didn’t move as he kept his eyes on his book. Of course he was interested in what his mum had done, but he was more focused on the fact that if he just reached out he could probably grab the book while Iona wasn’t paying attention.

  ‘Danny,’ his mum said in her firm voice. ‘Let’s go back to the house.’ Finally she must have clocked his drawing pad in Iona’s hand because she said, ‘Give it to him. Please. He doesn’t deserve to be brought into this. Then you and I can talk.’

  Now he was annoyed because Iona stretched the book further out of his reach. ‘He watches everything, everyone, you know that?’ she was saying, flapping it in her hand. ‘It’s weird.’

  ‘Give me back my book.’ His cry was louder now, more desperate.

  ‘And Bonnie’s got issues, I assume you realise?’ She wasn’t listening to him. ‘I really don’t think we’d have been friends in a different life. I’m not surprised she doesn’t have any others.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ his mum roared. ‘Don’t say that about my daughter.’

  ‘Only she’s not your daughter, is she?’ Iona yelled as Danny finally saw his chance: Iona’s arm had dropped again. ‘She knows you don’t like her as much as the others. Everyone can see you don’t have as much time for her, but then I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t have much time for her either—’

  ‘Stop!’ Maria shouted just as Iona was screaming, ‘She has what I should have had,’ and Danny yelled, ‘Give me back my book.’

  He lunged at it with such force that Iona lost her footing, stumbling backwards. He didn’t notice in the dark how close she was to the edge as he reached out again, knocking into her, and then suddenly, she wasn’t there.

  Maria didn’t move. It felt like an eternity that she stood rooted to the spot but in reality it was probably no more than three seconds. ‘Oh my God. Oh God,’ she finally muttered, running forward, peering over the edge of the cliff as she flashed her light on the beach below.

  Beside her Danny was whimpering loudly. ‘Is she dead?’

  ‘No, shush,’ Maria replied, pulling back to look at her son. His eyes danced with fear as he hopped from one foot to the other. ‘No, of course she isn’t
dead.’

  God, how Maria hoped she wasn’t. She wasn’t moving. Maria looked back over her shoulder, but from here she could no longer see the girl. As Danny continued to bounce nervously in front of her she knew she couldn’t check while he was with her.

  ‘Tell you what, let’s get you home and then I’ll come back to make sure she’s alright. And I’ll get your book,’ Maria added as she led him away, all the time glancing behind her as if she expected Iona to suddenly appear.

  Danny was surprisingly obliging. She deposited him at the kitchen door and told him to go to bed and that she wouldn’t be long. She hated leaving him so traumatised but she had no choice.

  As soon as Maria got back to the small slip of beach she saw Iona’s body lying on the sand. Only she quickly noticed there was someone crouching beside her. Maria’s heart must have stopped for she could no longer feel its beat.

  She slowly stepped forward until the person looked up, their face ghostly white against the moonlight.

  ‘Annie?’ Maria breathed out.

  ‘She’s dead,’ Annie whispered. ‘Do you know what happened?’

  ‘Oh, Annie.’ Maria collapsed next to her. How was she going to explain what she was doing running along the beach so late at night? She couldn’t think of any good reason why she’d be there.

  She couldn’t pretend she knew nothing about it. Not to Annie who’d always been so fiercely loyal to her. And thank God it was her on the beach. There was nothing her dear friend wouldn’t do for her.

  But she couldn’t tell her the truth.

  ‘We had an argument at the top of the cliff,’ she blurted. ‘It was an accident, but I—’

  ‘You did?’ Annie said, her eyes wide.

  It looked like she didn’t believe her, but Maria was sticking to that story. ‘I didn’t mean to,’ she insisted.

  ‘No, no, my dear. Of course you didn’t.’

  ‘Only she was saying such awful things—’ Maria really should stop but the need to absolve her son was overwhelming. ‘What’s going to happen?’ she whispered, knowing she needed Annie to take care of it.

  Often David would ask her what Annie had been doing on the beach at that moment, how long she’d been there. Maria couldn’t tell him because she never did ask.

  David had never liked the way Annie had looked after them since the day they’d arrived on Evergreen, and there was a time when that had been the one thing they’d openly argued over. Maria would see the glint of mistrust in his eyes when he questioned her about that dreadful night, but she no longer cared what he thought of Annie. By then they both knew that trusting her was all they had left.

  PRESENT

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I fumble Annie’s key into her lock, throwing the door open, crying out with shock when I see her standing in the hallway. She looks ghostly in her nightie, a candle flickering on a plate in one hand. Her eyes drift down my body and I see her intake of breath but she doesn’t comment as she carefully puts the candle to one side and reaches for my coat, gently peeling it off me.

  ‘I was worried about you,’ she says, shaking it on to the doormat before hanging it on an antler. ‘I came downstairs and found you gone. Where have you been?’

  Annie slowly bends on to her knees and begins lifting up one of my legs so she can take off a boot. One by one I allow her to do this, before she carefully lines them up by the door. It’s an effort for her to push herself up again.

  ‘I’m running you a hot bath.’ She turns, gripping on to the banister as she climbs the stairs, then disappears around a corner at the top.

  Still I stand rooted to the doormat, silent, streaked in sick and soaked through to my skin. She appears again with a thick grey towel in one hand. ‘Remove your clothes,’ she demands and I glance down, finally taking hold of my top and lifting it over my head.

  When I am undressed to my underwear Annie wraps my shivering body in the towel and leads me up the stairs. When we get to the top I stop on the landing. ‘He said my mum killed Iona.’

  Annie draws a deep breath, biting down on her lip, before finally releasing it and manoeuvring me towards the bathroom.

  Once inside she lets go, leaning over to swirl her hand in the water and turning off the taps. I feel like a child as she gently removes the towel and hangs it on a rail, nodding towards my knickers and bra. Silently I remove them and climb into the bath, sinking under the heat of the water, grateful for the bubbles that cover me.

  ‘Annie, tell me what happened. I need to know.’

  ‘We can talk downstairs when you’ve warmed up,’ she says.

  ‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘I need to know now. It wasn’t Mum, was it?’

  Annie frowns and says softly, ‘Yes. I’m afraid it was.’

  ‘No!’ I let out a painful wail as I close my eyes, sinking deeper into the water. When I open them I see the same pain etched into the lines of her face.

  ‘You knew. All this time you knew what she’d done. Was it you who told them to leave the island?’

  ‘No. Your parents made their own decision about that.’

  ‘How could you? I mean, you’ve lied for her, for so many years. Why did you do that?’

  ‘I loved your mother,’ she says simply. ‘I loved you all. What she did might have been wrong, but …’ Annie pauses, pulling out a wicker stool from beside the basin and lowering herself awkwardly on to it. ‘I don’t believe she intended it to happen. It was an accident. Your mother was scared.’

  ‘So she should have been,’ I say, gulping back a sob. ‘After what she did.’

  Annie’s eyes bore into mine but she is expressionless. I can’t read her.

  ‘You know about Bonnie?’

  ‘I know,’ Annie says.

  ‘Who else does?’ I cry.

  ‘No one. No one else at all.’

  ‘Apart from Bob and Ruth.’

  ‘Yes, apart from them.’

  ‘God! I don’t believe what they all did. Did you help Mum and Dad come over here? Dad said they knew you before. Was it you who did that?’

  ‘Yes,’ she says calmly.

  ‘Why?’ I gasp, incredulous. ‘I mean, why would you?’

  ‘I knew your gran for a very long time. She was a good, old friend of mine. She did something once for me that I will never forget. She saved my life. She saved me from someone who would have hurt me. So when she asked me for help, I would have done anything.’

  ‘It was my gran’s idea?’ I cry.

  ‘She saw how those families lived in squalor. Ways you couldn’t imagine. Wallpaper peeling off damp walls, holes in the bare floorboards. She used to tell me it was like they were in the midst of a war zone, some of them six children sleeping in the same dirty room they ate and washed in. One day she arrived to find one of her mothers holding her baby as she tried to stop a bulldozer knocking her home down.

  ‘The poverty was sickening but at least most of the mothers cared for their kids. Imagine adding in those who were high on drugs, or only kids themselves. Your gran got to know every one of them, including those she knew couldn’t look after their babies.’

  ‘But even so, getting them to sell their children—’

  ‘She hoped the money would help them out,’ Annie says, seeming exasperated that I still can’t accept this. ‘And for Bonnie’s mother it did. But like I said, I owed your gran everything, and I grew to love your mother like she was my own.’

  ‘Why did you help Bob and Ruth—’ I start as Annie pushes herself off the stool.

  ‘Have your bath and warm up.’ She flicks a hand towards the water. ‘I’ll make us a drink and we can talk downstairs.’

  A loud thud makes us both jump. I shoot upright as Annie reaches a hand to steady herself.

  ‘That wasn’t thunder,’ I say. It dawns on me only now that the storm has stopped, though rain still hammers against the small pane in the bathroom.

  ‘I’ll check it out.’

  ‘Annie, be careful,’ I say as she goes to th
e door. ‘Bob – I don’t trust him. I think he’s been sending me threats and tonight he told me I can’t get off the island.’

  She hesitates in the doorway. ‘You can’t,’ she says plainly.

  ‘I have to. Bob doesn’t want me going to the police, but I can’t let Danny go to prison for something he didn’t do. They’ll charge him with murder by morning if I don’t tell them the truth.’

  ‘But your family – your mother – this all comes out and – it can’t come out, Stella.’

  ‘You can’t expect me not to say anything?’ I gape at her. She’s known Danny’s confessed for days. ‘You’d let him go to prison for something he didn’t do?’

  ‘Oh, my dear …’ Annie’s eyes water.

  ‘Annie, I know what you’ve done for my mum, but Danny – you know you can’t do that to him.’

  ‘Only …’ She hesitates, one hand holding on to the open door.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The night it happened – I only have your mother’s word for it.’

  ‘I’m not following.’

  ‘She told me she was the one who pushed Iona, yet—’

  ‘What are you suggesting, Annie?’

  ‘Deep down?’ she says gravely. ‘I always thought she might be covering for him. He was arguing with Iona on that clifftop right before it happened.’

  ‘No,’ I say defiantly.

  ‘And if that’s the case—’

  ‘It’s not,’ I cut her off angrily, ‘and even if it were, Mum didn’t want anyone to know and she would never want her son to be blamed for murder. You just told me Mum did it, you can’t start twisting it around now. This is getting too much,’ I cry. ‘I don’t know what to believe any more.

  ‘I have to talk to the police,’ I add more quietly when she doesn’t answer. ‘I have to.’

  Annie pulls in a tight breath. ‘I’ll make us that drink,’ she says before closing the door behind her. ‘Try not to worry,’ she calls. I swear I hear her locking the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Three