The Island

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The Island Page 6

by Mary Grand


  She opened it and read the inscription on the inside of the lid, ‘To our darling daughter Rosalind, born 14 August 1995’. Carefully she closed the lid, turned the box over and wound the small key. Turning it back, she opened the lid again. The tune her father had chosen for Rosalind was ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’. As Juliet listened, the tune filled the workshop and, as always, music had a way of reaching raw emotion inside her. There was a deep sadness but also a feeling of things not finished, questions not answered. All those cryptic messages about boxes and keys, the warnings. She was sure she should have understood them, that she was letting her father down by not knowing what they meant. Somehow, she had to find out.

  5

  The funeral for their father was to be on Monday 15 August.

  In the week before, Juliet spent a lot of time in the workshop drawing. The commission turned out to be much more all-consuming than she expected. The portrait was of someone’s daughter; it was to be her eighteenth birthday present. The daughter knew about it and had chosen a number of photos to send and even made a short video of herself talking about things she enjoyed, her hobbies and the like. Juliet felt she was really starting to know the girl, and as she started to compose the portrait, it seemed to absorb some of those impressions. Juliet was soon lost in the work. It wasn’t only the work that consoled her, however. In here, she felt closer to her father than anywhere else and in a way that warmed rather than saddened her.

  Mira returned to sleep at the vicarage. Cassie stayed close to their mum, seldom

  leaving her side, while, in contrast, Rosalind seemed to stay out of the house as much

  as she could.

  Juliet gave a cursory thought to clothes for the funeral, before realising she needed something more than jeans and T-shirts. Her sisters had never been much good for borrowing clothes from; Mira had so few, it never seemed fair to take them, Rosalind’s were too fashionable and uncomfortable, and she could never imagine borrowing clothes from Cassie, even though she had plenty of black clothes as she often wore black and white for concerts. And so, Juliet drove into Newport, picked up some black trousers and a conservative top. She guessed these would always be the clothes she wore to her father’s funeral; they would never be worn again.

  The day before the funeral was Rosalind’s birthday, but, as they had a family meal planned for the following weekend, Rosalind spent the day with friends.

  The morning of the funeral finally dawned, far too sunny and bright. The service was at eleven, and Juliet, her sisters, and their mother had decided against cars to get to the church and so walked together up through the village.

  The day before it had finally rained, washing down the dusty roads, freeing the scent of the wild roses that weaved themselves among the hedges. Juliet was touched by the respect of the villagers, some of whom walked quietly behind them, some who stopped their gardening and stood solemnly as they passed. There were of course holidaymakers walking in the opposite direction, with bodyboards and picnics, but they walked quickly past, avoiding eye contact.

  When they arrived at the church, Juliet walked to the front with her family. The coffin was already in place. She glanced around, recognised Anwen, Rhys’s sister. She had toned down her Goth look from the last time Juliet had seen her, but she still had the black hair and eye make-up and was wearing a black leather jacket with badges pinned down each arm. There was a hard sadness about her, her red lips pressed together, a refusal to exchange glances with anyone.

  Rhys came in from the vestry at the side of the church with a few members of the choir, numbers depleted by the summer holidays. He had the same stunned, tense look he had had since the day her father had died, and an uncustomary nervousness about him. Juliet saw the tips of his fingers tremble as he turned the pages of the service book; in some of the hymns, she saw him stare blankly at the floor.

  When they came to the eulogy, Rhys placed his notes on a small lectern, spoke and also signed. He opened with a summation of their father’s life, the kind you hear at funerals. He did add warmth and colour, however, by mentioning her father’s delight in his wife and family, his love of nature and the island where he had spent all his life.

  When this part was finished, Rhys removed his glasses, gave them an unnecessary wipe, paused a few seconds too long, implying a searching for words rather than respectful silence. Even when he signed, his hands and fingers seemed uncertain.

  ‘I had the privilege of sitting with my father-in-law on his final days on earth. In my work, I have sat with many people as they have passed. Some are at peace with their life, some have sadness and regret. Ian had so many good memories of life with his family, with Helena, and his daughters, Cassie, Juliet, Mira and Rosalind.’ He looked over at them. ‘You were his life, his world. He talked about you all with such love and devotion. He also shared more private matters. Even if he made mistakes in some of the things that had been withheld, you can be sure that whatever choices he made were done in love.’

  Rhys turned to the whole congregation. ‘It is both a privilege and a responsibility for someone to confide in you, but when what you learn affects others, we can be faced with a dilemma. Do we keep silent, respecting the wishes of the person who has confided in you? Do we reason that these things are best left in the past, buried, forgotten? But what if a person has committed wrongdoing, should we expose that? Surely sin should be punished. But what about those around them? We have no idea how it will affect those close to them, their family, our whole community.’ Rhys was speaking very fast now, his eyes wide, wild. His words echoed around the church, as the congregation held their breath. No one dared move, not even a twitch of a service sheet, sniff, or cough; there was silence.

  Rhys suddenly looked down, blinked as if he had forgotten they were there. He wiped his glasses again, took a breath. ‘But enough, that is for another day.’ He caught his breath, steadied his voice. ‘This morning we are here to remember Ian. He showed and spoke a great deal about his love and devotion to his wife and four daughters. Everything he said, or did not say, was because of the love he had for them. Ian left this world at peace, surrounded by his family. We thank God this morning for his life and for the wonderful gift he was to each of us.’

  Rhys stood back from the lectern and bowed his head. He had finished.

  Juliet felt the congregation breathe again. It had been a bizarre eulogy. The few words of comfort at the end were lost in the tension that had preceded them.

  Juliet then noticed the organ was playing, and people were slowly coming to, standing up and starting to sing the final hymn.

  Even for a funeral, it was a very subdued congregation who left the church. Juliet spotted Gabriel sat with his mother. It was strange to see him in a suit and she was shocked to see he’d grown a beard. It was short, neatly trimmed and suited him. It made his brown eyes shine with greater confidence. Juliet felt guilty at the ray of warmth that forced its way through the sadness. She quickly gathered her feelings and walked on.

  The immediate family gathered around the grave that had been dug, waiting for her father’s coffin. Juliet stood next to Mira and they held hands, while Rosalind clung to their mother. Cassie stood alone; head bowed.

  After the short service, Juliet went to speak to some of the neighbours. Rosalind, she noticed, was knelt by a grave reading the headstone earnestly. Juliet knew whose grave it was and was not surprised to see Gabriel and his mother go over to her.

  Juliet knew Gabriel had always called his mother Maddie, a kind of combination of her first name Madeline and Mamon. After her conversation with her own mother about shortening names, Juliet thought it was a shame that everyone had adopted Maddie when Madeline was such a pretty name.

  When she was able, Juliet walked over to join them. Rosalind stood up, smiled at Juliet. ‘I’ll just go and see how Mum is,’ she said and quietly left them.

  Maddie stepped forward, held out her arms and kissed Juliet on both cheeks. ‘Juliet,’ she said, her voice heav
y with French accent, ‘I am so sorry for the passing of your father. We were devastated to hear what had happened. We were all so fond of him; we shall miss him.’

  Maddie was wearing a sleeveless black linen shift dress and a small black hat. She looked, as always, very chic, younger and more fashionable than Juliet’s mother, even though Juliet was pretty sure they were the same age.

  ‘Thank you, Maddie, and thank you so much for coming.’

  ‘Your mum said you were back in time to see your father in the hospital,’ said Gabriel.

  Gabriel, having been born and grown up on the island, had no trace of his mother’s accent. Juliet felt her cheeks burning; it felt a long time since she’d heard his voice and she’d not been prepared for how it would affect her.

  ‘Yes, at least we had some time to talk.’

  ‘He was such a good father,’ said Maddie. ‘You girls were his life.’

  ‘We had some wonderful times growing up.’

  ‘You girls, like my boys, were very lucky to grow up here. I often think about those early days, innocent times. We used to have barbeques together on the beach, didn’t we? We provided the wine; your dad did the cooking and you kids would play on the beach. I always imagined we’d grow old together, you children would have the next generation. It goes to show you never know, do you, which way life will go.’

  Juliet saw Maddie glance down, flinch with pain. These were the graves of her husband, Clarence, and son, Harry.

  ‘Dad mentioned Harry when we were talking in the hospital actually. Your son died so young, didn’t he, and so soon after your husband. What a terrible time for you.’

  ‘It was. I lost my Harry the same day your mother brought home your new sister Rosalind from the maternity hospital. Your parents gained a child the day I lost my son. That is the way of life, I suppose.’ Maddie frowned. ‘It seems to me odd that your father should remember my Harry on his death bed.’

  ‘His mind wandered a lot, flipping between the past and the present.’

  ‘Rhys gave a very unusual eulogy. Your father’s words seem to have unsettled him.’

  ‘I know, but I have no idea what they talked about,’ Juliet acknowledged.

  ‘It seemed very odd to talk about sin and punishment at a funeral.’

  ‘Um, yes,’ said Juliet, not sure how she should reply.

  ‘But he did speak about your father’s love for you all,’ said Gabriel, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘Yes, he did.’ Juliet shot him a grateful smile.

  Maddie, however, was not ready to move onto easier things. ‘I was surprised to hear your father had been drinking while driving; it seems very… out of his character.’ For all her apparent softness, there was occasionally a piercing directness from Maddie.

  ‘It was a shock to us too. He’d had a bit of an issue with drink years ago, but we thought it was well in the past. Apparently, something upset him on the day of his accident – you know it was his birthday.’ Juliet swallowed hard. ‘I don’t know what was wrong, but I hate to think of him up there on the Downs on his own so unhappy.’ She looked away, blinking fast.

  Maddie sighed deeply. ‘I expect he was trying to silence ghosts.’

  Juliet frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It happens as you age, the ghosts seem more real, they speak more clearly. You will learn that one day.’ Maddie paused and then added, ‘But that is of no importance today. I hope your father found peace at the end, that is what matters.’

  Juliet saw Maddie shoot a glance at Gabriel and was struck by how much it reminded her of the looks between Cassie and her mother.

  ‘Of course,’ said Gabriel, in a slightly over-bright, rather embarrassed voice. ‘I have wonderful memories of your father, Juliet.’

  Juliet put her hand up to twirl her hair around her finger out of habit, but it was too short now.

  Gabriel continued, ‘Yes, your father was very kind, he took me under his wing when I was in my teens. I’m sorry I’d not seen him lately.’

  ‘He was fond of you too. You enjoyed working with him in the garage, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did. He trusted me enough to give me responsibility, although he always checked my work of course. You know, he would let me go in and open up on the weekends? That was good for me.’

  ‘What will happen to the garage now?’ asked Maddie. ‘I hope the land is used well. The garage may be a bit ugly, but your father was a quiet neighbour. It would be good if a smart house was built there, I think.’

  ‘I’ve no idea, but Mum will sort it out.’

  ‘Well, I for one will be sorry to see it go,’ said Gabriel. ‘I have good memories from those times.’

  ‘None of us girls were interested in cars, poor Dad, so it’s good you were. You were like the son he never had,’ Juliet said, smiling.

  ‘It was good Gabriel had someone else to be a kind of father figure to him,’ Maddie interjected. ‘I am glad he didn’t take up working with cars though, I don’t know how I would run the vineyard and now the lodges without him.’ She smiled proudly at her son.

  ‘How are the lodges?’ asked Juliet, relieved to move away from talking about her father for a moment. She was speaking to Gabriel, but Maddie replied.

  ‘Up and running, and what a wonderful sight they are. The vineyard is making good money, but a few lodges have made a welcome addition; Gabriel has done very well.’

  Gabriel shuffled from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable now. ‘You should come and see them sometime,’ he said to Juliet.

  Before Juliet could answer, Maddie asked, ‘So now you are home, are you going to settle back into teaching?’

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ Juliet replied.

  ‘It’s a good steady job, allows a woman to take care of her husband and family,’ said Maddie.

  Juliet saw Gabriel redden, but at that moment she noticed that most people were leaving the cemetery. ‘I need to join the family… Are you coming to the wake? It’s only up the road at the pub.’

  ‘Thank you, yes, but I don’t think we will stay long,’ said Gabriel. ‘How long are you home for?’

  ‘A few weeks at least, maybe longer.’

  Juliet walked away, caught up with her mother and Cassie and headed to the pub where the wake was to be held.

  The pub was far busier than they expected, the car park full, cars and motorbikes parked up along the road.

  Ed, a friend of Gabriel’s who was now part owner in the pub, came out to meet them in the garden. ‘I’m so sorry, I had no idea we would have numbers like this. I hope you don’t mind; I have set you up out here. It’s chaos inside and I was able to cordon off this end of the garden. I have set the teas and refreshments on a table over there.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s lovely, it will be even better to be outside,’ said Juliet’s mother.

  They went and joined the others, who, in their formal wear, were in stark contrast to most of the customers, who were in very casual, summer wear. They could hear loud shouts coming from inside the pub, and the sounds of people happily enjoying themselves.

  Juliet grabbed a cup of tea and looked out over the Downs and to the sea. She breathed it in, tired from so much emotion. She saw Gabriel and Maddie arrive and went over to them. ‘It’s so busy, did you walk up?’ she asked.

  ‘Luckily, I found somewhere to park outside,’ said Gabriel. ‘It’s too far for Maddie to walk back from here.’

  ‘Let me get you a cup of tea,’ Juliet said and found a chair for Maddie before she settled them in the shade.

  ‘I just need to catch Cassie,’ Gabriel said and went over to Juliet’s sister.

  ‘It’s so hot isn’t it,’ Juliet sighed.

  ‘Unbearable. And due to continue,’ agreed Maddie. ‘I see some of the wheat harvest is in already, but it’s a few weeks before we can harvest the vines. I have been out there most days tasting the grapes, taking then to the winery for testing, choosing exactly the right time to harvest. You would find it very
interesting, I’m sure.’

  Juliet tactfully replied, ‘I think you have done an amazing job up there. You and Gabriel have put so much work in, you deserve it to be a success.’

  ‘Thank you, yes. I am fortunate that Gabriel is also committed to it.’

  ‘I was sorry he couldn’t come out to China though; I’d have liked to show him round.’

  ‘Not everyone can take extended holidays,’ Maddie replied, her tone sharp.

  Juliet scowled. ‘I was working, I was teaching.’

  Maddie patted her knee. ‘Of course, forgive me. Tell me about your time there.’

  Juliet started to tell Maddie and was pleasantly surprised by what seemed genuine interest, Maddie even recalled a friend who had lived in the area where Juliet had been teaching.

  Eventually Maddie said she needed to use the ‘facilities’. As she left, Juliet saw Gabriel coming over to her.

  ‘Has Maddie gone inside?’ He asked Juliet, glancing at the pub.

  ‘Yes, she just went in.’

  ‘It’s chaos in there, hopefully they will take pity on someone older. It was good to catch up with Cassie,’ he said. ‘I went up to hear her playing at Wigmore Hall recently, she was the soloist.’

  ‘You went to a concert in town?’

  ‘Why not? She’s very talented, you know.’

  ‘Of course I know that, but to go to London for a concert is so much hassle… you must have had to stay the night.’

 

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