by Mary Grand
Brought back to the present, she coughed and then glanced again at the date on the letter. ‘Of course, yes. But it says here Harry rang Zac the evening before, on the twentieth. That was a bit late wasn’t it, if he was going off the next morning?’
‘You didn’t know Harry. I think he’d been putting off telling them his final plans.’
Juliet put the letter away, and after he’d returned it to the draw Gabriel took out another envelope, a passport and a ticket to Paris dated 21 August.
‘But Barbara thinks it was odd him going out training if he was planning to leave the next day.’
‘Look, Harry was unpredictable. Maybe he just needed to run off a bad temper, I don’t know.’ Then he added in a gentler voice, ‘I’m sorry for Cassie, but he was all ready to go.’
Juliet opened the passport, saw the picture of Harry, and then handed it back. ‘Okay, so he was going, but why all the cover-up about seeing Dad at the garage?’
Gabriel bit his lip. ‘I didn’t want to tell you, it’s difficult.’
‘Why?’ she demanded.
‘Because, you see, a week after Harry died, I went to the garage. The police had shut the place off, and we were allowed back in from the Saturday. Your dad said he’d go back on the Monday, and I thought I’d go and see if I could do some clearing up before he arrived. When I got there, I found the ignition key on the floor in this bit of cloth by the luggage labels. Clearly it was meant to look like it had been there all the time.’
‘But why would whoever hit Harry return it?’
‘Panic maybe? My guess is the person who did the hit-and-run took the ignition key out of the car and ran off. All I can think is the person froze for a few days, not knowing what to do, then panicked, particularly when the police put out they were looking for the key. Perhaps the driver thought the most innocent place for it to be found was the garage, make it look like it had never been used. I think they also used a cloth, maybe to hide fingerprints, who knows? The person who did this can’t have been thinking straight.’
‘So, you worked all this out; why didn’t you give it to the police?’
Gabriel coughed nervously. ‘Because I realised a few things. The break in had happened at the front of the garage. That door was boarded up by the police. So, this key must have been returned without breaking in, by someone with a door key to the old back door…’
Juliet nodded thoughtfully. ‘So, it had to be someone with access to the garage?’
‘Exactly. I’d seen the state Cassie had been in when I told her about Harry going to France, I was scared she’d done something stupid… The cloth, recognise it?’
Juliet looked at it again and she felt sick. Yes, she knew what it was.
‘It’s a cloth used for cleaning a violin, isn’t it,’ said Gabriel quietly.
She sighed. ‘So, you suspected Cassie, but you didn’t tell anyone?’
‘I didn’t want to. Look, if Cassie had anything to do with Harry’s death, I didn’t think she should go to prison, he’d treated her so badly. Also, well, I couldn’t be sure it was her, could I? Your parents hated Harry I know that, and your dad had been so good to me.’
Juliet was stunned. ‘So, you kept the old key to save them?’
‘I did. I was going to throw it away but that didn’t seem right, so I put it in an envelope to keep it safe. Just in case.’
‘So why did you show it to Dad the day of his birthday, you must have known how upset he would be?’
‘I’d seen him a few days before and he’d told me they were planning to tell Rosalind about Cassie and Harry on her birthday. When he said that I thought that, although he’d probably not had anything to do with Harry’s death, he ought to know about other possibilities, and know what he was raking up. I didn’t expect him to get so distressed.’
Juliet sat very still. ‘How have you lived with my family, thinking one of them could have killed your brother?’
‘It was difficult, but I believe I made the right decision not telling anyone what I’d found. He was my brother and for all we were so different, I loved him very much. However, I knew Harry had treated Cassie badly. I was sure if she had harmed him, it had been done in the heat of the moment and was something she would have deeply regretted. Going to prison would have destroyed not only her life but all your family. What life would it have been for Rosalind knowing her mother was in prison for killing her father? And your mum, you sisters, your whole lives would have been blighted by this. And then of course I had to think of your father. It would have destroyed him. I couldn’t do that to him. It’s so easy to forget how grateful I was to him back then. For a time, he was the only person I felt I could relate to. I felt a failure because I was nothing like Dad or Harry. Your father made me realise I had different strengths. He was always so positive and encouraging, I owed him a lot and there was no way I could destroy him. In any case, I feel for Cassie, who I know to be a good person at heart, spending her life trying to live with what she’d done, that has been punishment enough.’
Juliet picked at the duvet cover. ‘I don’t know what to do. How can I carry on, knowing my sister has done such a thing?’
‘I told you, she has been punished enough. We have to protect her.’ She looked up, saw deep passion, remembered he’d told her he had strong feelings for Cassie when he was younger. Maybe he still did.
‘It’s finished. Leave it Juliet.’
She didn’t reply but she knew that even if she could try and forget what Cassie had done to Harry, that hadn’t been the end, had it? Had Cassie also killed Rhys? Her father had said, ‘if they have killed once they can kill again.’ Is that what had happened? If so, surely Cassie was a very dangerous person.
She stood up. ‘I need to go.’ She paused. ‘I don’t know if I even need to say this but, well, me and you, it’s not going to work, is it?’
He stood up as well, smiled. ‘This doesn’t have to be the end. All of these things are nothing to do with me and you.’
Juliet shook her head. ‘No. Even without them me and you wouldn’t work. This vineyard is your life but not mine. I’m the wrong piece of the puzzle.’
‘Do you want to go travelling again, is that it? Is it living on the island that makes you feel hemmed in?’
‘No, that’s not it. The island’s not a prison.’
‘But you think life with me would be just that, like being locked up in a miserable cell.’
‘Of course not, but it wouldn’t be a happy place for either of us.’
He nodded sadly. ‘I understand, but you will come tomorrow to the barbecue, won’t you? Maddie would be so disappointed if you don’t.’
‘Of course,’ replied Juliet.
She turned and left the room; she had to get away now. Putting on a smile, she went down and looked for Maddie. She was talking in a very animated way to Mira. Juliet rushed over, wished Maddie a happy birthday, told her she would see her the next day and then, without any further explanation, she left the house.
She walked back through the vineyard, down the long winding lane onto the main road. Juliet crossed the road and instead of walking along the roadside she went into Compton Bay car park. From here she could see the tide was well out and so she clambered down the steep steps onto the beach. The beach stretched a long way to her right, but she turned left, heading towards Brook.
The mist was still there, and it dampened down any sound. Even the seagulls’ cries were softened. There were a few dog walkers, but no one else. The light grey-blue sea merged with the sky, the air, the breeze, the wet sand crunching beneath her feet. The long hot summer had ended. She walked fast, hard, trying to outrun the demons chasing her, but the cold hard facts about her sister kept catching up, kept reaching out to her.
She turned the corner into Brook bay, and stayed down there until finally, exhausted from the furious pace she’d been walking at, she climbed up the path and made her way home.
Juliet pushed open the gate and was about to run into the house when she
saw a light on in the workshop. She ran over, looked through the window. She hadn’t thought the day could get any darker, but it looked like it had saved the worst till last.
32
Juliet opened the door of the workshop, but her mother was so engrossed she didn’t hear her come in.
Rain was hitting the window now like tiny pebbles.
‘What are you doing, Mum?’ Juliet asked, raising her voice against the beating rain.
Her mother jumped up, startled, the gold glistening in her hand. ‘Oh, you shouldn’t creep up on people like that.’
‘Mum, what’s that in your hand?’
Her mother slowly uncurled her fingers.
‘It’s Rhys’s crucifix, isn’t it?’ said Juliet quietly.
‘I just found it down the side of the chair. I thought it could do with a clean. I’ve not been out here for ages; it must have been here all the time. Like the police said, Mira must have imagined Rhys had been wearing it that night.’
‘I don’t think so. Mum, why were you hiding it here?’
‘I wasn’t hiding it,’ said her mother, but suddenly she sighed, collapsed onto the seat and put her head into her hands. ‘I’m so tired.’
Juliet sat down on a stool and tried to speak calmly. ‘On his birthday, what reason did Dad give you for not telling Rosalind about Cassie and Harry?’
‘I can’t remember.’
‘I think you can. I’ve spoken to Gabriel today. He found the ignition key to the car that killed Harry in the garage after Harry’s accident.’
Her mother crossed her arms very tightly. ‘Did he?’
‘Yes, and he told me that he went to see Dad on his birthday this year at the garage. He took the key. Apparently, he knew Dad was going to tell Rosalind about Cassie and Harry and he thought Dad should know that one of our family was implicated in Harry’s death. I think Dad knew then he couldn’t ever tell Rosalind the truth, and that is what he came home and told you. He was devastated and later went up to the Downs drinking. Am I right?’
Her mother spoke, her voice flat. ‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’
‘Of course you do. I think you suspect someone in this family of killing Harry, and you think Dad told Rhys who it was. That’s why you went to see Rhys the night he died.’
‘I didn’t know any such thing. I admit I went to speak to speak to Rhys, but it was nothing to do with who killed Harry. I went to try and dissuade him from telling Rosalind about her biological parents. I had no intention that night of telling Rosalind about her true parents, it didn’t seem the right time at all to me. But I didn’t want him telling her either; it would have been completely wrong for her to hear the truth from anyone other than me or Cassie.’
Juliet pulled on a small tuft of hair. ‘I don’t think I believe you. I am sure you have your suspicions about Harry’s death. Come on Mum, who do you think killed Harry?’
The question shot out, blunt, brutal and her mother swallowed hard.
‘A stranger, someone from the mainland,’ she blurted out, in the way a child might answer too quickly.
‘You have never suspected Cassie?’
Her mother stared in horror. ‘Of course not. She told you herself she loved Harry, she thought he was going to marry her. In any case, the night Harry died, no one went out.’
‘But you were shut away with Rosalind, you have no way of knowing if anyone else went out.’
‘But I saw Cassie, she popped in about eleven, and your father was in and out checking on me and Rosalind.’
Juliet didn’t answer but slowly shook her head in disbelief.
Her mother didn’t try to defend herself, however. Instead, she asked, ‘Does Gabriel still have the old key?’
‘No, I have it, Mum.’
Her mother grabbed the arms on the chair. ‘You have it? Where is it? We have to get rid of it!’
Juliet was startled by her mother’s panic. ‘I don’t think so, Mum.’
‘Give it to me this instant,’ her mother demanded, her eyes wide with panic.
‘Why are you so bothered about this key Mum? If no one here had anything to do with Harry’s death, why do you look so upset?’
Her mother shook her head. ‘I don’t know, I don’t want people getting silly ideas.’
Juliet stood up, crossed her arms. ‘I’ll give it to you if you tell me the truth about the crucifix.’
Her mother looked up at Juliet, her face hard. ‘No, I won’t be blackmailed like this.’
‘But where did you get the crucifix, Mum? Tell me. It couldn’t have been down the side of the chair. I searched the chair the other morning after being with Gabriel because I dropped my phone. It wasn’t there then. Where did you find it?’
‘I don’t need to stand here answering silly questions,’ said her mother, who then pushed past her and left the workshop.
Juliet picked up the crucifix her mother had left. She suspected her mother had the crucifix either because she’d found it in the house and assumed Cassie had hidden it, or because she herself had killed Rhys.
However, Juliet realised even those weren’t the only explanations. Because someone else had been in and out of the house, and that was Anwen. it had to be possible that Harry and Rhys’s deaths were not linked, that while Cassie might have killed Harry, Anwen could still have killed Rhys. She had come to the funeral; she could have planted the crucifix then.
Juliet sat down, suddenly exhausted by it all. What was she going to do?
She opened her hand, looked at the crucifix. Well, at least she knew what to do with this.
Juliet went into the house and up to the bedroom, where Mira was sat reading. In contrast to everything that was happening, Mira looked at peace. She gave Juliet a lazy smile.
‘Oh, hi. I’m glad you’re back.’
Juliet held out the crucifix. Mira reached out very slowly; her fingers trembled as she lightly touched the crucifix as if she was afraid it would burn her.
‘It’s Rhys’s,’ Juliet said gently.
Mira suddenly grabbed it, held it tight, buried her face in it and sat shaking and crying. Lola, who had been sitting slightly apart from Mira, moved closer and put her head on Mira’s lap. Juliet explained how she had found her mother with the crucifix in the workshop.
‘Where did she find it then?’ asked Mira.
‘She told me she found it down the chair in the workshop, but I don’t think it was there.’ Juliet gave Mira a knowing look.
Mira shook her head. ‘You mustn’t suspect Mum, it’s impossible.’
‘I don’t know, I think she may be protecting someone else.’ Juliet looked at Mira, hadn’t the heart to tell her what she’d been thinking about Cassie.
‘No, there will be an innocent explanation.’ Mira smiled weakly. ‘At least I have it back. Rhys said, this was the most important thing he owned, he said it spoke of forgiveness. Having it back makes me feel like we have forgiven each other. Thank you.’
Juliet wanted to give Mira some space and so left the room. She could hear rain outside now, heavy, beating on the windows. It was then Juliet saw Cassie. She was in her dressing gown, drying her hair. Juliet felt that burning sensation in her hand and gasped. For the first time she realised the significance of that pain, why hadn’t she seen it before?
‘What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ said Cassie.
‘I think I have, well, a glimpse of the past anyway. Cassie, think back to the night Harry died.’
Cassie groaned. ‘Not this again, Juliet. Let it go.’
‘No, seriously think about it. You went out.’
‘No.’
‘You did, don’t deny it. I know you did; I saw you up here, your hair and clothes all wet.’
Cassie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘How on earth do you remember that?’
‘That night has been coming back to me in pieces. I remember I saw you and wondered why you were dressed at that time and why your clothes were all wet. Now I realise
of course it meant you had been out in the rain.’
Cassie gestured to her bedroom. ‘Let’s go in there and talk.’
Juliet followed her in and sat on the edge of the bed.
Cassie sighed. ‘You’re right, I did go out the night Harry died. Harry had told me he was not going to France, but then, later, Gabriel said he was. I was pretty sure he was staying, but I needed reassurance. Harry had mentioned he would be out running about half ten, and so I went out at that time hoping to meet him. Mum had said she would look after Rosalind; we had decided she would be bottle-fed. I was about to go out when you came out of your bedroom crying. I waited until you were with Dad and went downstairs. Then when you were in the kitchen, I crept out of the front door. I’d wrapped up but not expected the rain to be so bad. I went down to the end of the road that leads to the vineyard, but Harry wasn’t there. If we’d had mobiles, we might have been able to talk. I waited for a bit, but it was so wet, and I thought I would see him the next day.’ Her voice cracked. ‘But of course, I didn’t.’
‘What time did you come home?’
‘I don’t know, about eleven. I came up and when I saw you, you showed me your hand. You’d burned it on your milk, not much, it was just a bit red. I told you to run it under the tap.’
‘That’s right. Dad brought me to bed before eleven with my milk. I drifted off to sleep, when I woke, I had a sip of milk but spilt it on my hand. It hurt, so I came out of my room to find Dad, and that’s when I saw you.’ Juliet grinned. ‘The important thing I’d missed was that my milk was still hot. You know how when you go to sleep you lose track of time? I’d always imagined I’d been asleep for hours but of course it can’t have been for longer than say five or ten minutes if the milk was still so hot it burned my hand.’
Cassie shook her head. ‘I don’t see why any of this matters.’
Juliet explained. ‘Harry was killed soon after eleven, and now I know you were here, in the house, not out there in the rain.’
‘Of course. Hang on, you hadn’t imagined I killed Harry, had you? I loved him, Juliet.’
‘But if you’d thought he was going away…’