Wreckers Island (romantic suspense)

by Harcourt, L K

  Dan felt himself go cold. ‘Just me, or all three of us?’ he asked.

  ‘Just you,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll come right away. Emma, I’m so sorry,’ said Dan, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

  ‘Please get here as soon as you can,’ she said.

  Dan returned briskly to the cove. It was nearly dark now and the flames of the fire were bathing the rocky cliffs in a pulsating orange glow. He called softly to Louise and John, not wishing to interrupt their intimate activities but having little choice. He could dimly see them lying on the rugs, their bodies entwined. They appeared to have fallen asleep.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ he whispered, ‘but ‘I’ve had a phone call from Emma. She wants me to go and meet her in St Perro.’

  ‘We’ll all come,’ said John, half asleep.

  ‘I think she just wants me to go,’ said Dan. ‘She’s asked me to meet her at the police station and says she’s not coming home tonight. Do you mind if I borrow your car, Louise?’

  ‘Erm, er, no that’s fine,’ said Louise, groggily. ‘Hang on, I’ll get the keys for you.’

  Louise lifted herself and walked over to the beach tent, her naked body glowing olive-gold in the firelight. She was clearly unashamed at Dan seeing her. She scrabbled about in the tent and emerged with her keys.

  ‘Make sure you don’t crash it, cos I think you’ll only be covered third party, not that it’s worth much,’ she mumbled and flopped back down with John.

  John was sitting upright now, pulling his trousers on.

  ‘Dan I understand she only wants to see you but we’ll be on tenterhooks here – can you phone to let us know what’s happening as soon as you can,’ he said.

  ‘Yes of course,’ promised Dan.

  Dan clambered over the rocks and onto the main beach heading for Louise’s car on the jetty. He would certainly endeavour not to crash it. A road accident would be the last thing they needed on top of everything else.

  A thought struck him – shouldn’t he have got Emma a change of clothing or a toothbrush or something? He hadn’t even asked. What about himself? Would he be coming home? Would the police take the opportunity to detain him as well?

  Chapter XXX

  Dan pulled out onto the scenic road to St Perro. The tourist season was all but over and few people were about. The landscape seemed cloaked in a disquieting tranquillity in contrast to the turmoil inside his head. Yet he found his mind emptying as he drove on the 20-minute journey as if the time for agonising and hand-wringing was over. Dan just wanted to see Emma and hold her in his arms, and kiss her.

  It was surprisingly easy to park at that time in the evening and Dan left his car in a road off the main high street adjacent to the dreaded police station. As he walked towards it, his legs felt like they would give way.

  Get a grip!, he told himself. He had to be strong for Emma’s sake – she would be fragile, distraught, inconsolable, and frightened. Yes, above all, frightened. She was not a strong, confident character like Louise with plenty of brass neck to get her through life. Emma was a sensitive soul capable of great courage but without the self assurance to underpin it.

  He rounded the corner onto the high street and stared with foreboding at the looming police building on the other side. To his surprise, standing outside under the orange glow of a street lamp was a slim, light-haired figure similar to Emma.

  It was Emma! His heart leapt. They must have released her on bail! That was something to be grateful for. At least they were not keeping her caged like an animal. They would be able to go somewhere and talk. Dan crossed the street and walked slowly towards her, resisting the temptation to run. It might scare her, he had to appear calm, even if he didn’t feel it.

  She had seen him. A weak smile crossed her face. She did not approach, but waited patiently until he reached her. Neither said anything as they were reunited. Words somehow, were not necessary. Dan flung his arms around her and hugged her tight. He reached his hand and stroked her hair and looked into her eyes, those lovely, watery blue eyes.

  ‘Come on, let me get you away from here. We can go can’t we – have they released you on bail? Oh Emma you must have been so frightened,’ he said, eventually.

  She broke away from him and gazed at the police station frowning down on them.

  ‘Look at it,’ she said softly. ‘Look at that great ugly, menacing place. Think how horrible it is to end up inside there, locked in the cells, plonked down in interview rooms, monitored, tape recorded, filmed, fingerprinted, forced to empty one’s pockets; one’s hopes and dreams in life draining away.’

  Emma clasped his arm as she spoke. It was trembling. ‘I know how frightened you are, I can feel the fear inside you. Let us share that emotion. Let us stand and behold that terrible building and be frightened together.’

  Dan did as she asked and gazed steadily upwards. It was like a monster of bricks and mortar, ready to pounce on them.

  ‘Now let’s walk away,’ instructed Emma. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  Dan’s eyes were still locked as if in a trance. Suddenly the main doors opened and a police officer walked out. Dan clutched Emma in fright.

  The officer wasn’t interested in them, although he noticed with amusement them staring up at his workplace.

  ‘Tourists?’ he said with a grin. ‘You can always tell a tourist cos they’re the ones standing around looking upwards. It’s a dead giveaway – watch you don’t get mugged. Mind you, it’s a grand old place isn’t it, wonderful gothic architecture, like an old-fashioned asylum. They knew how to build ’em in Victorian times. Beats the modern copshops any day. Enjoy your stay,’ he added, with a wink, and walked off.

  Emma turned to Dan and giggled. ‘Come on, before we get mugged.’

  They walked arm in arm along the high street. Emma was relaxed and at ease, as if a great weight had been lifted from her. She stopped in front of a five-star hotel, the Metropole – St Perro’s finest.

  ‘From fear to hope,’ she said. ‘Come on.’

  Dan walked with her through the sturdy oak doors with their reassuringly solid brass door knobs. Emma headed for the hotel bar, an elegant, old-fashioned room of dark leather upholstery, mahogany tables and brass fittings. It reeked of history and the comings and goings of important people.

  ‘I thought this might be a good place for us to talk and have a drink together,’ said Emma, as she chose them a table near the window.

  ‘It’s a lovely place,’ said Dan, sitting down. ‘Emma, can I say, I’m so glad the police have let you out on bail and that you’re being so upbeat. It’s good to come somewhere as fine and opulent as this. Let’s thumb our noses at doom and gloom, whatever tomorrow will bring.’

  ‘Tomorrow will probably bring a hangover, Dan,’ she said as the waitress came over, carrying a bottle of expensive champagne in an ice bucket and two champagne flutes. Dan watched disbelievingly as she undid the wire cage around the cork and wiggled it out with a loud pop. She poured them both a glass and placed them on dainty cloth doilies.

  ‘Join me in a toast,’ instructed Emma softly, as she raised her glass. ‘This is in honour of you and what a wonderful person you are and what a bright future lies ahead. You do have a bright future, you know. There is something I have to tell you. I’m not proud to have made this decision but I spent a long time this afternoon after you’d gone thinking things through carefully.

  ‘After you left me earlier outside the police station, I went to the main doors. I saw you glance then turn away and I watched you keep walking, and not looking back again. I appreciated that because you were true to your word, you put me under no pressure.

  ‘So I found myself with my nose pressed against the glass of the doors and I saw my reflection, looking sad and anxious. I found myself asking why I was doing this and for whom. I was doing it entirely for myself, to make myself feel better; the cathartic experience of unburdening myself, purging myself clean by telling the truth and facing the consequ
ences.

  ‘I started to open the door but as I did so another door slid shut in my mind and a voice said “wait, think about this first, it’s not just about you”. So I walked away, and I walked for miles, Dan, round and round, you should see the blisters on my feet.

  ‘I know St Perro like a native now. I’ve been to the river and back to the park and sat beneath that same lovely horse chestnut. I went for a coffee and tried to straighten everything out in my head. Several times I returned to the police station, right to the doors, looking through the glass. But I never once went inside. I haven’t told the police a thing. I don’t plan to.’

  Dan stared deeply into his champagne flute, watching the countless bubbles rise to the surface, still unable to take in what Emma was saying.

  ‘Somehow I couldn’t square the circle. I couldn’t separate out what I was willing to do to myself from what I would thereby inevitably do to you. If I deserved to face the music Dan, I didn’t see why you should,’ continued Emma.

  ‘Your wrongdoing was done for my benefit. You didn’t act out of self preservation, or for financial gain. You did what you did for me, because you loved me and wanted to protect me. Should your reward for that be to lose everything? Your top university course, your job prospects, your reputation, your share of the reward from treasure which would never have been found without your scholarship and perseverance?

  ‘In the end, I simply couldn’t take you down with me. What swung it, and what made me appreciate how special you are, was that never once did you seek to dissuade me from handing myself in. Louise did, several times. John did to an extent and he admitted that part of his motive for disposing of Zak was concern for our fortune. But you only wanted what was best for me.’

  Dan could only nod his head. He was too choked to speak.

  ‘What’s done is done,’ said Emma. ‘While one can be sympathetic for Zak’s family, he did bring it upon himself. Destroying our lives, and John’s and Louise’s won’t bring him back.

  ‘However, we must learn from this, Dan, and how wrongdoing so nearly cost us dear. I hope you understand why I didn’t tell you straightaway when I called earlier and why I made you share the fear with me outside the police station. I wanted you to suffer with me and to learn a lesson that we will never forget.’

  ‘I understand, Emma. I can’t tell you how grateful I am,’ mumbled Dan, finally finding his voice. He felt overcome with it all, and unsure what to say.

  ‘Hey, this stuff will go flat if we don’t drink it,’ scolded Emma with a grin. ‘Come on, let’s draw a line under everything and enjoy this vintage champagne.’

  Dan smiled and took a big, long sip. He did not normally quaff champagne but this was as cold and refreshing as a mountain stream, like liquid diamonds.

  ‘That tastes good,’ he said. ‘I suddenly feel like I’ve walked out of a nightmare and into a dream.’

  ‘You have,’ said Emma. ‘Our dream, our dream together. Oh Dan, just think – we are students on a top degree course at England’s finest university and thanks to the wealth we are coming into, our money worries are over. No more badly-paid, exhausting part-time jobs for us, this will set us up for life, and above all, we have each other.’

  Dan gazed at the champagne bottle with its Grand Cru label and wished he could take that moment with Emma, push it inside the bottle and cork it forever. Every sight, every sound, every smell in that genteel, civilised place was bliss to him. He hoped he would never forget it.

  The rattle of cutlery and china; the murmur of conversation from other tables; the old boy in a blazer with the walrus moustache by the wall, pouring water from a small jug into his double scotch. How he would have loved a cigar to accompany his whisky in the days before the smoking ban, mused Dan. The fragrant waft of a sleek panatella would have made the atmosphere complete.

  From the window, Dan saw passers-by going about their business and a handful of leaves – the colour of Felipe’s gold ingots – flitting their way up and down in the light breeze, a sure sign that the colder months were on their way.

  In the distance he could see the police station in which he and John might now have been detained, seated on straight-backed, thinly-upholstered metal chairs with two police officers and a whirring tape recorder.

  John and Louise! They must be told straightaway. He had promised to contact them as soon as he could. ‘We must phone the others,’ said Dan, grasping into his pockets for his mobile phone. ‘I feel awful I’ve forgotten them.’

  ‘Don’t,’ said Emma, calmly. ‘They needed to feel the fear too – as much as we did. Come on, let’s take our champagne to our room and ring them from there.’

  ‘Our room?’ said Dan.

  ‘Yes, young man, our room,’ said Emma, smiling. ‘Here’s the key if you don’t believe me,’ and she took it from her pocket. ‘We have a lovely room with a wonderful en suite and jacuzzi and we’re going up there now for a luxurious bath while we guzzle the rest of the bubbly.

  ‘When we’re done, we’ll put on some smart new clothes that I’ve bought for us this afternoon and come down looking as shiny as new pins and go into the luxury restaurant for a delicious meal. I’ve bought you a razor and some shaving foam so you’ll even have smooth cheeks.

  ‘When we have eaten and drunk as much as we can hold, we slip away to our room and jump into our king-size bed. It’s all right, I’ve put it on the Visa card – now that I know I’ll be able to afford the bill!

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Dan. ‘If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up.’

  ‘Ok,’ said Emma, ‘I’ll try and avoid the temptation to pinch you. Let’s go.’

  They ignored the lift and instead took the magnificent wide staircase with intricately carved banisters to their generous-sized room on the second floor.

  Dan’s eyes widened when they stepped inside. ‘A four-poster bed! I’ve never slept in one before. It’s so grand and atmospheric here. I wonder if this hotel is haunted, I bet it is,’ he said.

  ‘Maybe by the ghost of a long-lost Spanish sea captain,’ teased Emma.

  Dan’s face fell slightly. He had forgotten amid everything else, what lay at the heart of their incredible adventure – Captain Felipe and the elegant, spidery writing of his diary.

  ‘We owe so much to him,’ said Dan. ‘We should never forget whose fortune it once belonged to and the circumstances in which it was lost.’

  Emma saw pain and sadness cross his face. ‘I’m sorry, Dan, I didn’t mean to be flippant. But you know something,’ she said, as she walked over to the large bay windows and looked wistfully out, ‘I think he would have been content if he’d known the way things had turned out, 230 years on. He’d be pleased that his historic possessions would go to a museum for people to marvel at and for folk like you, me, John and Louise to benefit, giving us such a good start in life. That must be a better fate than for it to languish beneath the sea – or worse – fall into the grasping hands of oafs like Zak and Jake.’

  ‘I felt an attachment to Captain Felipe you know,’ said Dan. ‘That’s why, when I realised I had left his precious diary by itself on the rock shelf in the cave, I couldn’t bear it and had to go back for it. That’s what brought the trouble upon us, of course.’

  ‘I think you could argue that Louise brought the trouble upon us, with her loud-mouthed behaviour in the pub the night before,’ pointed out Emma, gently. ‘On the other hand, taking the story back to the beginning, it was she who brought us to Cornwall to go on holiday with her at her parents’ lighthouse knowing we couldn’t afford one otherwise. Without her none of this amazing adventure would have happened nor the treasure discovered.’

  ‘What’s more,’ said Dan, drawing Emma tightly to him, ‘it brought us together and who knows if we would have ever found each other at university? We’re both quite shy people, after all.’

  ‘Yes, and you cutting your finger on that kitchen knife played a crucial role too,’ Emma reminded him. ‘I still think you
did that on purpose.’

  ‘No, I am much too chicken to do something like that on purpose,’ said Dan, laughing. ‘I’m quite pleased it happened though. Sometimes don’t you just think that things are meant to be?’

  ‘We are meant to be, wonderful Dan,’ said Emma, gazing into his eyes. ‘Now, I shall start running the bath and take the champagne through while you ring John and Louise.’

  Dan had barely dialled John’s mobile before he answered. ‘Hello,’ he said, sounding gruff and tense.

  ‘John, it’s me,’ said Dan. ‘I hope you’ve got some beer left because you’re going to need something to celebrate with.’

  Emma smiled as she overheard Dan’s breathless account. What a relieved, joyful couple there would now be in a little cove on the seashore looking out at Wreckers Island.

  How she had agonised about what to do for the best that afternoon. How it had tormented her. Not going to the police had been the most difficult decision of her life, but ultimately the right one.

  Dan came into the bathroom, chuckling. ‘John and Emma are thrilled and they each still have one bottle of beer left which they are opening as I speak,’ said Dan. ‘They are stunned and delighted. They hope we have a lovely night in our posh hotel and they look forward to seeing us tomorrow.’

  ‘Hey, are they a bit jealous that we’re in luxury digs and they’re shivering in a beach tent?’ enquired Emma, mischievously.

  ‘Yes,’ said Dan, ‘but John points out that at least their sleeping quarters comes with a sea view.’

  Emma laughed and her eyes shone like Dan had never quite seen them before. He knew that she was content at last and at peace with herself. They both stripped off and jumped into the hot, bubbling water of the jacuzzi. Dan reached for the champagne bottle and refilled their glasses.

  ‘I would like to propose a toast,’ he said. ‘To Captain Felipe and the crew of the Providencia tragically lost off the Cornish coast in 1780. We must never forget the debt of gratitude we owe them.’