The Darkness Visible

by Tori de Clare

  ‘No.’

  A pause. ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  He tilted his head to one side and Naomi did the same and he kissed her between words. ‘That you’ve found…… some way of taking my mind……. off the fact that we’re here like this, in this place…… Just us.’ His hand trailed down her arm and he used one hand to press her to him. ‘What’s the plan?’

  He stopped kissing her to allow her to answer, but he didn’t pull back. She could still feel the faint contact of his lips which made her tingle all over. Her eyes were still sealed. Dan was breathing hard. ‘No plan, Dan.’

  ‘Crap.’ She felt the word form on his lips, the P pushing just a little warm air against her lips. He was still holding her face with one hand.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘So what shall we do?’

  She smiled against him and couldn’t break away. ‘We could unpack.’

  ‘Boring.’

  They kissed again. Tried to pull apart again. Naomi managed, ‘I’m out of ideas. Why don’t you suggest something?’

  ‘There’s only one thing I want.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Oh stop it.’ He tipped his head the other way and kissed her harder.

  She withdrew. ‘Maybe we should go for a swim.’

  He ran a flat hand down her back. ‘I can’t imagine it serving as much of a distraction seeing you in a bikini.’

  ‘Let’s just do it anyway.’

  ‘Yeah, OK.’ One hand slid behind her neck and held her close while he took time to kiss her slowly and deeply now. Naomi allowed it for a few seconds before disconnecting. ‘I meant a swim, not that.’ She playfully pushed him away but didn’t break eye contact.

  Dan groaned and rubbed his face with both hands and let out a long sigh. ‘How long before –’

  ‘Twenty-three hours,’ she consulted her watch. ‘And about twenty minutes.’

  ‘Which is going to feel like a month.’

  ‘No it won’t.’ She started to stride out of the bathroom and through the bedroom towards the sitting room. The cases stood where the smiling man had left them by the glass floor panel. Suddenly, something shifted beneath the glass panel which drew her eye – a big dark shape. It was there one moment and had vanished the next. She stalled mid-stride and fixed her stare on the glass. Tropical fish sauntered by, unconcerned. A stingray? Would a stingray venture into water this shallow? She didn’t know, and in any case, it was gone. It seemed pointless to mention it now, so she carried on walking until she reached her case.

  ‘A week maybe, but not a month,’ she called over her shoulder, twisting her head enough to see that Dan hadn’t moved. ‘Now get your kit off. I want to test that whirlpool out.’

  Dan leant against the bathtub and closed his eyes. ‘You’re killing me.’

  <><><>

  They chose a restaurant on the main island only a couple of minutes from the beach villa where Annabel and Joel were staying. The restaurant was an open wooden hut with a thatched roof that hovered above the water. The tables were set in individual wooden boxes that circled the hut, each on stilts, each intimate and intensely charming and suspended over water with a spectacular view of miles of ocean and a dying sun that was settling on the horizon and spreading golden colours across the water. The twin island was just a strip next door. Naomi pointed out their villa on the far right tip.

  Annabel had transferred the birthday badge to her evening outfit. The four of them bunched up and settled around the table, no one willing to turn their back on the sunset. The scent of barbequed meat and fish rode the breeze. The sky was a dramatic clash of red versus blue which equalled a spectacular umbrella of lilac.

  A waitress approached the table and deposited menus and took drinks orders.

  ‘What’s the pad like, mate?’ Joel asked Dan.

  ‘Unbelievable.’

  ‘Ours too,’ Annabel said.

  Naomi nodded. ‘We have this amazing glass panel on the sitting room floor. Loads of tropical fish underneath.’

  ‘Not bad,’ Joel said, pulling Annabel closer. ‘So, what’ve you two been up to today then? Counting the stripes on the clown fish?’

  Annabel jabbed Joel in the side.

  Dan smiled at Naomi then looked at Joel. ‘Pass. Ask me one on sport.’

  Joel laughed. ‘Oh, so it was athletic stuff then?’

  ‘Would you pack it in,’ Annabel giggled. Joel squeezed her tighter and pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head.

  ‘If you must know,’ Naomi said, ‘we chilled on the deck beside the pool then had a wander round the island.’

  ‘Aye, course you did,’ Joel winked and swept his long fringe out of his eyes. ‘And my mother’s the Queen of England.’

  ‘Would you behave?’ Annabel said, tilting her chin up to look at Joel. He took her face in one hand and briefly kissed her nose and then her mouth. ‘Try being serious for one minute would you?’

  ‘What’s it worth?’

  Annabel raised her eyebrows. Joel moved in to kiss her again and Annabel closed her eyes.

  Naomi cleared her throat while Dan took her hand under the table and squeezed tight.

  The waitress returned with four drinks just as the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving a crimson gash across the sky. One drink was clogged with ice and speared with a lit sparkler. She handed the sparkling drink to Annabel, and said in broken English, ‘Happy birthday.’

  Annabel beamed at Joel. ‘Thank you.’

  Joel kissed her again, and everyone picked up their drinks. Joel said, looking at Annabel, ‘May I propose a toast to my birthday girl, and to yours Dan. Here’s to a very happy future.’

  ‘To the future,’ Annabel said, and her sparkler died. She withdrew it from her glass and took a sip.

  ‘Talking of which, are you looking forward to tomorrow, mate?’ Joel asked Dan.

  Dan looked at Naomi now and pulled loose strands of long dark hair away from her eyes. Naomi looked into his clear blue eyes with his hair moving in the murmurs of wind. She watched his lips part as he prepared to respond. His gaze never faltered. ‘I can’t wait,’ he said, only to her.

  <><><>

  Naomi slept in the same bed as Annabel that night, in the beach villa with the luscious garden and the integral walled shower that had an audience with the stars. For tradition’s sake, Joel headed to the wooden bridge with Dan, for the spare room in the water villa.

  Naomi could have had her own room, but she opted for Annabel’s bed and a girlie chat which stretched into the small hours and reached back to their childhood in South Africa.

  Annabel was lying on her back in the darkness with one arm draped across her forehead. The air conditioning was humming gently. It was almost two in the morning and Annabel was yawning and ready for sleep.

  ‘I’ve just realised it’s your birthday,’ Annabel said to Naomi.

  ‘Oh yeah.’

  ‘Happy birthday. We should get some sleep.’

  ‘I’ve got the rest of my life to sleep.’

  ‘Dan won’t be up for much sleep tomorrow night,’ Annabel said, and Naomi laughed. ‘You’re becoming Mrs Stone again. How weird is that?’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘Any doubts?’

  ‘None at all.’ Naomi took a while to add, ‘Why do you ask?’

  Annabel rolled onto her side to face Naomi and curled her arm beneath her pillow. ‘I never want to see you get hurt again. It isn’t that I don’t trust Dan . . .’ She paused to find words. ‘I just don’t know how anybody can be certain they’re doing the right thing, one hundred per cent.’

  Naomi stretched her legs beneath a thin sheet. ‘You have to follow your instinct.’

  ‘You did that with Nathan.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Sorry to bring him up. I shouldn’t have.’ Annabel rolled onto her back again and studied the ceiling.

  ‘It’s OK. Nathan was never my
husband, Annie. I feel as though this is a first for me.’ She paused to try to make out Annabel’s features in profile. ‘What are you really trying to say?’

  Silence. Annabel was absolutely still. The air conditioning hummed on. ‘That marriage is a big commitment.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  Annabel breathed in and out a few times. ‘Are you sure you’re ready?’

  ‘Certain.’ Naomi reached out and took Annabel’s hand. ‘Especially with you here. Last time felt so wrong. I should never have asked Lorie to take your place.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now.’

  Naomi let go of Annabel’s hand and touched her arm. ‘Do you think Mum and Dad will ever forgive me when they find out?’

  Annabel paused a beat. ‘Mum hates weddings. You’re doing her a favour.’

  ‘You reckon?’

  ‘Yeah.’ After a few moments of quiet, she added, ‘It isn’t too late to back out.’

  Naomi sat up and looked at Annabel’s outline in the darkness. ‘I’m not going to back out, Annie. I can’t wait to marry Dan.’

  ‘Why not another church wedding?’

  ‘No reminders of last time. This time, no crowds or fuss or stress or Mum’s opinions or input. I had to leave everything behind and do this my way. In secret. I feel free here, and safe. Nothing is more important to me than safety at the moment. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yeah, course.’ Annabel finally turned to look at her. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing.’

  ‘Naomi finally relaxed and lay back on her pillow. ‘Thank you. Is everything sorted for tomorrow?’

  ‘Don’t worry. A car will pick us up just before five-thirty.’

  ‘You have the rings?’

  ‘That’s Joel’s job. Chillax would you? Just pray it doesn’t rain.’

  Naomi found her necklace and zipped her cross from side to side. ‘I can deal with rain, Annie.’ She twisted her neck and found Annabel’s shape again. ‘All I need tomorrow is Dan.’

  ‘It’s already tomorrow,’ Annabel yawned. She turned away from Naomi and curled into a ball and took a while to add, sleepily, ‘It’s an island with nowhere to go. I’m sure Dan will show up.’

  <><><>

  A strange vehicle pulled up the following day. It had open sides, no doors and a protective cover on the roof. It was like a giant toy and sounded like a milk float and was about as stylish. Two men dressed in white sat in the front two seats.

  There’d been a downpour in the morning and then a mass clearing of clouds, until another perfect day emerged. After a lazy, stress-free morning followed by a nap and then a late lunch, Naomi slid into a simple knee-length satin dress. Annabel’s dress was knee-length and pale pink. Naomi climbed into the back of the car and Annabel followed. Both were holding a simple arrangement of mixed flowers tied with ribbon. The car weaved slowly along the island’s narrow pathways through tall greenery and bushes bursting with exotic flowers, until they arrived at the beach on the tip of the island. The car unloaded. A boisterous breeze fanned the shores of paradise. Naomi and Annabel walked the few strides to the sand.

  An archway decorated in flowers marked the entrance to the beach, which was empty apart from a thatched-roof hut with a table and a couple of officials wearing rings of yellow flowers around their necks. Dan was waiting, smartly dressed. Joel was beside him, hair wild, blowing all directions.

  Naomi clutched Annabel’s left arm as they paused in the archway. Dan turned and smiled and raised his hand. Naomi smiled back and suppressed the urge to break into a run to reach him.

  ‘So he came,’ Annabel said.

  ‘Yep,’ Naomi replied. A pleasant flow of adrenaline increased her pulse as the breeze played with her hair.

  ‘I want to tell you something.’ Annabel’s voice had a hint of apology, but not urgency.

  ‘OK.’ Naomi stopped looking at Dan and focussed short-distance on Annabel’s eyes. ‘What is it?’

  The wind tossed Annabel’s hair about and plastered a few strands to her lips. ‘It can wait until afterwards. This is your moment and by the looks of things Dan can’t wait to get on with it.’

  Naomi laughed. ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yeah. Remind me to tell you later, OK?’

  ‘OK.’ Naomi’s smile faded. ‘Annie?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I couldn’t have got through the nightmare of the past year without you.’

  Annabel’s eyes watered. She looked away. ‘Save your speech for Dan.’

  ‘I’m trying to tell you that I’m glad you’re my sister.’

  Annabel dabbed one corner of her eye. ‘And I’m trying not to ruin my makeup.’

  ‘Let’s hope Mum will forgive me for this.’

  ‘Forgive us. We’re in this together, the four of us, OK? You’re not alone.’

  Naomi glanced at Dan, who beamed a dazzling smile right at her. He held out a hand and beckoned to her.

  It was time.

  PART TWO

  3

  (Fourteen months earlier)

  Police Constable Kerry Marshall pulled up on a dead lane behind a Rolls-Royce at something-to-one in the morning. She switched off the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition. A stiff wind battered the car. The moon was a large off-white ball in a clear sky. The temperature gauge on the dashboard said ten degrees. It felt closer to zero with the wind-chill. Her colleague, PC Jake Shearing, unclipped his seatbelt and took a long and admiring look at the backside of the car right in front. He let out a low whistle.

  ‘Wouldn’t say no,’ he said.

  ‘Me neither.’

  Marshall focussed beyond the car at the two figures fastened to the cemetery gate.

  Shearing said, ‘Who’d have thought the Hamilton girl would show up alive so close to home?’

  ‘Absolutely bizarre. So that must be her husband on the left. Who’s the girl again?’

  ‘The Hamiltons’ housekeeper, apparently. Name’s Lorie Taylor.’

  They looked at each other in the murky light.

  Marshall said, ‘Cemeteries freak me out.’

  ‘I could hold your hand,’ he grinned.

  Marshall rolled her eyes then settled them on the two dark figures in the distance. The news surrounding Naomi Hamilton’s disappearance had been huge. The mission to find her had gripped the globe. All attempts had failed. The story had started to die, and then a bombshell in the last hour while Europe slept: she was alive and well. In England. Dan Stone had called with the news. Until statements rolled in, they knew nothing except this: Dan was claiming that his brother has colluded with Lorie Taylor and that both were guilty of attempted murder.

  ‘He was so convincing on the news,’ Shearing said. ‘Did it ever cross your mind that he could have done it?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Marshall yawned. ‘This is going to be massive news tomorrow.’

  ‘No kidding.’

  ‘So how are we going to play this?’

  Shearing put his hat on. ‘With no information, no statements, no evidence?’ He shook his head. ‘No idea. We can’t arrest them without grounds. We can’t let them go. And we can’t leave them here.’

  Marshall unfastened her seatbelt. ‘Let’s hope they think they have no choice but to come with us. Who rang in?’

  ‘Anonymous call.’

  She reached for the door handle. ‘It just gets better.’

  ‘If the car is Henry Hamilton’s, we have a crime scene at least.’

  They simultaneously got out of the car and closed the doors. Marshall glanced towards the cemetery gates. The wind cut across her face and bit her ears. She drew her coat across her body and fastened it. The street was eerily quiet. Trees swayed in shadow across the quiet lane. Leaves scuttled across the road.

  Shearing pulled ahead and examined the car without touching it. Marshall teased some gloves from her pocket and put them on, then walked to the front of the car and shone a torch on the bonnet to verify the colour.

  The g
uy attached to the gates cleared his throat and projected his voice, ‘Any chance of some help over here?’

  Shearing shot Marshall a look which said he wouldn’t be hurried, then twisted his neck towards his radio, which was attached to his jacket.

  ‘Sergeant?’

  A pause. ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Shearing. We’ve located the stolen car. Rolls-Royce Phantom. Private registration Hotel Romeo Hotel –’

  ‘His royal highness?’

  Shearing grinned. ‘Or Henry Robert Hamilton. So it’s HRH 112.’

  ‘That’s the one. Locked?’

  ‘One sec.’ He spoke to Marshall. ‘Kerry, try the doors.’

  Marshall tried the doors on each side. No joy. She shook her head.

  ‘It’s locked, boss.’

  ‘I’m sending recovery to pick it up immediately. Let’s see if the CSIs can find anything. Nothing to the press until then.’

  ‘OK,’ Shearing said. ‘There’s a male and a female fastened to the gates.’

  ‘Fastened?’

  ‘Cuffed by the looks of things.’

  ‘Nathan Stone and the housekeeper?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘Bring them in.’

  Shearing had only been in the job for six months. He turned his back on the two at the gates and lowered his voice. ‘On what charges? Attempted murder? Stolen vehicle?’

  ‘We’ve got nothing on them yet. The only information we have is that the Hamilton girl is mysteriously alive. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow for a statement. Meantime, those two will probably be nervous and compliant. I’m sending Patterson to guard the Roller until recovery shows. Your job is to bring those two in immediately. You’ll think of something.’

  Marshall joined Shearing and they walked in step to the cemetery gates.

  They got close enough for Marshall to notice that the girl was struggling. She was shivering, hair dishevelled, a smear of mascara under her eyes. The guy was in better shape and was standing free of the railings while she slumped. But his eyes betrayed him. He was tired and . . . afraid? No, it wasn’t fear. There was some defiance there. He was gorgeous looking. Tall, big shoulders, the beginnings of dark hair around his jawline, strong bone structure. She’d seen him on TV of course, but in person, he had a presence that the TV screen had filtered. His expression softened as she watched him and her stomach lurched just a little. His eyes narrowed and he relaxed. He was watching her closely now. Steady. Marshall found herself dodging his gaze just as Shearing spoke.