The Angels' Share

by Maya Hess

  ‘Ethan Kinrade is not my uncle.’

  Two gasps preceded the laying down of cutlery. The pair remained silent, which had the effect of causing me to continue.

  ‘I don’t know who he is, actually. I’m here to find out.’ I sipped my wine, waiting for one of them to speak but they didn’t. ‘Creg-ny-Varn is my father’s…’ – I sipped again, as if to erase my mistake – ‘…was my father’s house. It was my childhood home.’ This information elicited raised eyebrows and Lewis puckered his lips, folding his arms.

  ‘You’ve come back to have a look at your old home then?’ He was satisfied with his assumption.

  ‘Not exactly.’ They knew too much already. I laughed and turned to Liz. ‘Nude women?’ I wanted to change the subject again but they were both busy puzzling over my intentions and ignored my question.

  ‘I can ask at the Post Office.’ Liz shrugged her shoulders, perhaps realising how little she and Lewis knew about the nearby estate’s new owner. ‘The woman there knows everything about everyone.’ She smiled. ‘Too much, I sometimes think.’ Then she received an elbow in the ribs from Lewis.

  ‘No, really. You needn’t bother.’ My covert mission was spilling from between my fingers like ice melting in the sun. Soon there would be no mission because everyone would know my business, including Ethan Kinrade. ‘I’d like to hear more about your photography.’ I peeled apart the layers of potato and melted pecorino. The good food, warmth and company made up for the awkwardness of trying to conceal my situation.

  ‘So aren’t you technically trespassing by staying in the beach cottage? It belongs to Kinrade’s estate.’ Lewis tried to sound affable but the nature of his question caused the back of my neck to prickle. To defend myself, I would have to reveal more of my story.

  ‘Not exactly,’ I began. ‘I’m aware that the cottage belongs to Creg-ny-Varn. I used to spend many hours playing there while my father fished or mended his lobster pots.’ I hesitated, ate more food and drank more wine, but Lewis and Liz were attentive listeners. Nothing short of an earthquake would have distracted them from what I was saying. ‘My father died a few months ago. I haven’t seen him for over a decade.’ I paused again, bowing my head and hoping they would urge me not to continue my painful story. They didn’t. ‘I’m here to find out who’s living in my family home. Simple as that.’

  ‘To find out who has stolen your inheritance, you mean.’ Lewis was stirred by the inkling of a legal case. He blew out through tight lips. ‘That’s a tough one. You really need to see a copy of the will before you go steaming in there.’ He poured more wine. ‘You have no idea if Mr Kinrade is the rightful owner?’

  I shook my head and tried to prevent Lewis from filling my glass yet again but he ignored my protestation.

  ‘That could explain why no one around here ever sees him,’ Liz said. ‘Perhaps he’s a fraud!’

  ‘The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,’ I said rather too sarcastically. ‘I spoke with the gardener at Creg-ny-Varn earlier today, hoping to get some information about the man.’ I omitted the bit where I’d been caught red-handed peering through the kitchen window and certainly didn’t tell the story of how we ended up in Kinrade’s bed together. ‘He told me that Mr Kinrade is away at present so I’ll have to bide my time until he returns. Perhaps I could research the will, as you suggested, Lewis.’ I smiled, grateful for his input.

  ‘That’s funny. I swear I saw Kinrade driving out of the estate gates when I went to buy the paper earlier. I was walking Nog to the village.’ Lewis served himself more salad, frowning as he pondered on what he had seen.

  ‘I doubt it was him,’ I said. ‘The house didn’t show any signs of anyone being around other than the gardener when I was there earlier.’ I smiled inwardly as I replayed snippets of my earlier fun with Dominic. It was most likely that he had used Kinrade’s vehicle to run an errand for the estate. He was in charge of the property, after all.

  ‘So that’s why I’m here, anyway. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention my presence in the beach cottage to anyone. I’m not doing any harm living there. If anything, I’m improving the place.’ I smiled as I wrapped up my mission in a little packet and handed it to them. Having to dredge through my family history, explaining why my mother and I were forced to leave the island in the first place, was not something I relished. ‘And please, Liz, I want to hear all about your interesting job.’ I leaned forward on my elbows and clasped my hands under my chin while Lewis cleared the plates and Liz regaled me with tales of how she had first got into glamour photography.

  * * *

  ‘You must think we’re a dirty pair,’ Lewis said as he carried a tray of coffee into the cosy sitting room. ‘Is Liz telling you the story of how we first met?’

  I smiled up at Lewis from my position on the floor by the fire. I was growing to like the couple and their simple lifestyle. In spite of their full-on careers in London, they managed to maintain a contrasting life on the island. Old Bridge Cottage betrayed nothing of Lewis’s fast-paced legal firm and I would never have guessed Liz’s connection with glamour models. Photography, maybe, as the whitewashed cottage walls contained a patchwork of framed black and white pictures, although mainly of artistic coastal and harbour scenes.

  ‘I was about to,’ Liz said. ‘And I was going to give the clean version.’

  ‘There is no clean version.’ Lewis settled onto the sofa next to Liz. ‘It’s a mucky story however you tell it.’

  ‘Don’t feel you have to censor it on my behalf.’ I thought I might have been overstepping the mark, especially as I hardly knew the pair – well, not in person anyway. The food, the wine, the waves of heat on my back from the fire made my senses hum with pleasure. Despite a few tricky questions, I was having a wonderful evening. I would have written it all up in my diary later, if it hadn’t been stolen. A brief surge of anger and panic set in as I wondered where it was, or more to the point, where Steph was, the wretched girl from the ferry. But I forced such thoughts from my head for now, along with the prospect of walking home alone, and continued to enjoy the evening. Studying Lewis and Liz together, the way they exchanged glances or placed a hand on the other’s thigh, shared minute details that only they – each half of an indomitable couple – could notice, well, it made me realise how much I wanted to be a half too.

  ‘She was taking pictures on a film set. A porn film set.’ Lewis cleared his throat but then grinned at Liz. ‘It was all very up-close and personal.’

  ‘Were you there?’ I asked.

  ‘Good heavens, no. I happened to see Liz’s pictures in an advertisement for the movie in the back of a men’s magazine.’

  ‘And?’ I didn’t want to prompt too hard but Lewis’s story seemed to fizzle out.

  ‘I felt compelled to get in touch with the photographer to get the full, well, picture. I found out her name through the advertising agency.’ Lewis dropped a log onto the fire but I still wasn’t sure his story was complete.

  ‘Why?’

  Lewis gave a sigh and a laugh, and glanced at Liz. She nodded. ‘Because it was my fiancée in the pictures. Naked. She was the star of a kinky movie that I knew nothing about.’ He let out a brief snort.

  ‘Darling, it was the three men eating her out that really set you off.’ Liz giggled. ‘Don’t worry, Ailey. It was years ago and they were totally incompatible. My pictures saved Lewis from a life of jealousy and turmoil.’

  ‘And you two would never have met otherwise.’ They were nice people and deserved a happy ending. I drained my coffee cup and glanced at my watch. ‘It’s late. I’ve got that awful walk back and –’

  ‘Nonsense. You can’t possibly attempt to go home tonight. Have you heard the rain outside?’ Lewis settled back in the sofa and grinned in a way that reminded me of the intent yet delirious expression he wore while I was spying on the pair the previous night. ‘The guest room’s all made up. We insist you stay the night, don’t we Liz?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Liz slid off the s
ofa and onto the floor beside me. To my surprise, she placed a hand on my thigh and very gently slid it towards the zip on my jeans. Then she leaned forward and, her lips brushing in my hair, whispered, ‘Besides, you’ll be able to see better from here.’ Then that giggle again, somehow seeming silly although charming coming from a woman in her early thirties. It was just a tiny dose of flirting, barely detectable, and, of course, if I had mentioned watching them through binoculars it would simply have made my embarrassment tangible. I held her gaze for a moment before making up my mind. However bad the weather, I really wanted to get back to my cottage. The rain pelted the windows, lashing in from the west, and I could hear the wind roaring down the chimney and rattling the front door behind the heavy curtain.

  ‘Really, I’ll make it back just fine. It’s only a bit of rain.’ I didn’t sound particularly convincing but when I stood, stretched and began searching for my coat, Lewis and Liz took my intentions seriously. I noticed a flash of communication between them, a moment of disappointment.

  ‘Then I shall walk you home,’ Lewis said, reaching for his own waterproof coat. ‘I can’t possibly allow a young woman out alone at night.’

  I glanced at Liz to gauge her reaction and, though my judgement was hazy from the wine, I did notice her eyebrows raise and her lips swell to a thoughtful pout. Perhaps even her cheeks flushed although that could have been the sudden blast of cold air as Lewis and I stepped out into the noisy weather.

  ‘Thanks again,’ I shouted above the wind. I kissed her on each cheek, secured my waterproof against the rain and followed the cone of light from Lewis’s torch as he marched off down the road.

  He set a quick pace and while we tried to talk, it was virtually impossible to hear anything other than the rain pelting my hood. The walk along the road was the easy part but when we reached the rocky track to the beach, Lewis made a point of taking my hand and channelling the torchlight along the ground.

  ‘The rocks are slippery,’ he called out. ‘Watch your footing.’

  I cursed myself for not accepting their invitation to stay. I imagined another couple of hours talking by the fire, more wine and then retiring to a cosy bed and perhaps an audible sample of lovemaking from Lewis and Liz.

  Finally, we made it to the beach cottage, which was barely visible in the torchlight and sheeting rain. I hurled my weight at the front door, which gave immediately with a creak. Inside, I was relieved to feel a glimmer of warmth. The huge log that I had put on the fire earlier was still glowing.

  ‘Thanks so much,’ I said, feeling guilty that the poor man had to make the journey back again. ‘Would you like something to warm you up before you go? I have some supplies.’ I grinned and, for silly some reason, I winked.

  ‘What’ve you got?’ Lewis took off his waterproof, ruffled his fingers through his wet hair and made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs. I lit three candles and stoked the fire with another log.

  ‘I could boil some water for tea or I’ve got some Glen Broath from the local shop or Spanish brandy perhaps?’

  ‘The whisky sounds fine.’

  ‘Here, sorry about the mug,’ I laughed. ‘It’s clean though.’ Earlier, during my hasty spring clean, I’d found a few items of dusty crockery and swilled them in the sea. It would have to do for now.

  ‘Damn, no reception. I hope Liz doesn’t worry.’ Lewis snapped his phone shut and went to the window to peer up at his house. He cupped his hands around his eyes and pressed his face to the glass. ‘I think she’s still up because the lights are on. Can I use these?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, bowing my head. I took a large sip of Glen Broath as Lewis peered up at his house through the binoculars. He stood motionless, the lenses fixed to his face, for several minutes before lowering the glasses and exhaling, half sigh, half laugh.

  ‘She’s still up, all right.’ Lewis held out the binoculars to me but didn’t move away from the window. ‘Take a look at this.’

  He stood behind me as I found the cottage lights and adjusted the focus. I caught my breath as the window came into view. The small square of light was filled with Liz’s naked body and she was performing a slow, provocative dance. Her hands swept over her skin, lingering on her breasts before slipping down between her legs. I could see that her eyes were closed and her head swayed in time to whatever music accompanied her moves.

  ‘You should go back to her,’ I said, although my voice barely worked. Spying on Liz’s erotic act with her husband didn’t seem right.

  ‘Nonsense.’ Lewis’s voice faltered too and it was then that I felt something firm press into the small of my back. ‘She’d love it if she thought we were watching her. Take another look and tell me what she’s up to now.’ He slipped his hands around my waist and trailed his fingers around the top of my jeans. ‘Why don’t you flash the torch at her to let her know you’re watching, like you did last night?’

  I swallowed and realised that I couldn’t pretend any more. Liz and Lewis knew I’d been spying on them. ‘Are you cross? I didn’t mean to –’

  ‘Cross? Liz loves being watched. You made our evening sizzle!’

  ‘I did?’ I held up the binoculars again and saw Liz teasing her body. ‘She’s still there.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘She’s touching herself.’

  ‘Like this?’ Lewis pressed a hand between my legs and I let out a little moan – a cross between surprise and pleasure. Then he took the torch from his pocket and signalled a series of flashes to his wife.

  ‘Are you sure she won’t mind?’ I somehow gasped and sighed at the same time, quite unable to comprehend what was happening. It was as if the contents of my lost diary had somehow become reality.

  ‘She especially wouldn’t mind if she thought she was turning us both on. I could tell her how she had driven us wild and we simply couldn’t help ourselves.’

  I heard the amplitude of the waves increase as the wind and rain whipped up into a sizeable storm, similar to the thoughts and feelings racing through my body. What was Lewis implying? I shuddered as his lips pushed through the mass of my hair, searching for the skin on my neck. He was a big man and the size of his face, the intensity of his breath on my skin, the strength of his hand as it pushed deeper between my legs weakened any resolve I had to protest that it just wasn’t right. I turned slightly and he took the opportunity to smother my mouth with a deep kiss that rocketed to the pit of my belly.

  ‘Take another look at her and describe what you see.’ His words slipped down my throat and I could barely hold the binoculars steady. Then, ‘Do you think she’s beautiful?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘You’re a lucky man.’ I realised the implication and so did Lewis.

  ‘You like women?’

  To share my thoughts, to give them form and voice, was comparable to wafting the pages of my diary at Lewis. For many years I had fantasised about touching another woman’s body and even a coy glimpse at an aroused woman would have sent me spiralling with delight. I was convinced that witnessing Liz pleasuring Lewis the previous night had been the cause of my reckless tryst with Dominic earlier. Quite simply, every cell in my body had been awakened by their performance, heightened by the possibility that the display was entirely for the stranger signalling from the beach cottage. Even now, my yearning wasn’t entirely sated.

  ‘I think so.’ It was hard to be honest. I could barely be truthful with myself. Only my diary. ‘I’ve never, you know…’

  ‘Never made love to a woman.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Would you like to try?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ I felt my cheeks flush and hoped Lewis would think it was the glow from the fire colouring my skin. My shyness did something to him though because he emitted an unintelligible reply that seemed to get stuck in his throat. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do,’ I added.

  ‘It would be easy. Just do to her what you like having done to yourself.’

  There was a sudden lightness around my waist and
I realised that Lewis had unfastened my jeans. He turned me to face the window again and told me to tell him what I liked most about Liz. Her fingers were teasing her breasts, lingering on the defined circles of dark brown nipple as the rest of her body swayed to the music I assumed she was playing.

  ‘Her breasts are so…’ I faltered, wondering how to best describe Liz’s full body. ‘I just want to reach out and hold them, to feel the weight of them.’ Dizziness from my admission made me wobble but Lewis steadied me by pressing his body against my back. The stiffness was still there, still straining. I had never been so candid and the rush was even better than the whisky.

  ‘She would love it if you felt them.’ And to mirror my desire, Lewis wove a hand beneath the layers of my clothing and located the small rise of my braless flesh. The coldness of his fingers transformed my nipples into trim points while his other hand slipped deftly within my jeans, eager to find a path to the heat that had already produced wetness in my panties.

  ‘Being a glamour photographer, surely Liz has had plenty of offers?’ I was strangely disappointed at the thought.

  ‘Sure, plenty of offers from some of the most beautiful women in the country.’ Lewis plucked at my nipples, making me whimper and my knees bend. ‘But she’s never accepted any. It’s her ultimate fantasy and she’s saving herself for the right person. Someone that I approve of.’

  Was I being examined as a potential candidate? Was I being vetted as a suitable plaything for Liz? What if I didn’t pass examination? I tensed briefly as Lewis’s finger finally found the groove that would lead him to the lips of my eager sex. Another thing: how had this happened to me twice in one day?

  ‘Take another look at Liz,’ Lewis rasped in my ear. His forefinger slipped easily between my lips and began to draw a slow, deliberate line from the tingling nub of my clitoris down to the fullness of my sex. ‘Is she doing this to herself?’