The Island Angel

by Alex Slorra

  “I know. Well, the only flight I could get to Edinburgh was this afternoon. So, I pulled in a lot of favours, jumped on the plane, and got a rental car at the airport. I didn’t want you to pick me up with your scary driving. And I only just made it over that stupid tidal thing of yours with water up to my fucking doors. Talk about isolated. Your end is in the middle of nowhere. And what’s it with you and phones?”

  “I’m sorry my cell died.” Anna smiled. “It’s great to see you! I can’t believe you made it.”

  “Well, you said there was a problem about your sex—”

  “Later!” Anna shrieked and glanced back to Jessica who was standing to one side with a puzzled expression.

  “O-kay,” Sarah stared at Anna, before giving Jessica the once-over.

  Anna bit her lip, hoping Sarah wouldn’t read her thoughts. She always could, though. “This is Jessica, she’s staying with me for a bit and helping around the farm.”

  “Hi.” Sarah held out her hand, and Jessica shook it. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jessica said.

  Sarah turned back to Anna, after giving Jessica another glance. “Deeping it. So you’re into this peng woman?” she asked, tipping her head towards Jessica.

  Anna knew peng meant beautiful; Abbie had been teaching her slang words when explaining the lyrics of her favourite songs. She playfully hit Sarah’s shoulder. “Stop with the London slang. No one understands it. You’re not even British.”

  “I bloody am.” Sarah laughed. “I was born here.”

  “You moved to the States when you were one. It hardly counts.” Anna hugged her friend again. It was good to see her. Sarah’s family were originally from Jamaica, having immigrated to Britain, but after Sarah was born, her father’s job was relocated to the States. They had gone to high school together and become friends. Sarah was one of the few who had always stayed in touch and the only person who had helped her through her sister’s death.

  Sarah shrugged and glanced at Abbie. “Hiya, Abbie. You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you. Almost taller them me. Let’s see.” Sarah stood beside the teen. There was about two inches difference. “By Sunday, you’ll be bigger.”

  Abbie laughed at this.

  Sarah collected her bag from her rental car, and they went inside. But, before Anna could take off her coat, Sarah piped up. “Annamaria, I’m bear hungry and need a big glass of wine. Let’s go out for dinner, my treat.”

  “Bear hungry? You want to eat a bear?” Anna asked.

  “Very hungry,” Jessica answered.

  “You must have a pub on this Alcatraz?” Sarah said.

  “Yes!” Abbie shouted. “The Anchor pub has good food!”

  Anna gave Abbie her hardest cold stare, which she knew wasn’t up to much.

  “Good, we’ll go there,” Sarah said.

  “Cool beans!” Abbie said.

  “It would save cooking,” Jessica chimed in.

  Anna was a few sentences behind the conversation. She’d only just twigged that Jessica understood Sarah’s slang. Shit! “You’re into this peng woman?” Maybe Jessica didn’t hear. She didn’t say anything.

  “Let’s go, Mum,” Abbie said.

  Anna rolled her eyes. “That’s right, everyone gang up on the dumb blonde American.” She feigned insult while grinning broadly. It was nice to have company; she couldn’t remember when she’d last felt this warm inside. She thought she might cry. Instead, she pulled Abbie into a hug and kissed her temple. “Okay, you win, Miss I-always-get-my-way.”

  “Yes!” Abbie punched the air. “Victory again! I need to change,” she said, before hurtling upstairs.

  Chapter Eight

  THE ANCHOR, A small establishment at the centre of Holy Island, didn’t smell as Jessica expected. Her memories of pubs were before the smoking ban when they were dominated by the overpowering stink of cigarette smoke. This one smelled of stale beer and body odour. For more than ten years, she’d avoided pubs completely, but tonight was an exception made for Anna and Abbie’s sake. Abbie was desperate to see the band and, if they stayed at home, she knew Anna would insist on cooking. Also, Sarah had offered to pay. The reasons for going didn’t really pave over the big crack from her past—the dreadful evening in Enfield when her dreams were shattered.

  The place was a carbon copy of most old-worldly pubs in England. Enlarged Victorian picture postcards of how the village used to be were dotted along the walls, tankards hung on hooks above the bar, coins from many generations had been pushed into splits in the oak beams and a strand of tinsel, undoubtedly left over from Christmas, weaved around a set of trophies on a shelf near the dartboard.

  Abbie waved to a girl her age and made a beeline towards her. The rest of the group followed. Jessica was introduced to Abbie’s friend, Katy, and her mother, Beth. They managed to squeeze onto a bench at the same table. Abbie sat next to Katy, then Sarah, Anna and, finally, Jessica was on the end.

  From where they were, Jessica had a clear view of the band prepping at the other end of the bar. She tried to hold onto the reasons for coming, but the vibe of the place felt wrong. The pangs of guilt and fear had started to surface when she entered and now were growing stronger. It was also bugging her that she had no way to pay for anything.

  “I’m sorry, but I think I’ll go back,” Jessica whispered to Anna.

  Before she could stand up, Anna put her hand on the top of her thigh.

  “Why?” Anna asked.

  “No money and—”

  “You made it,” David interrupted, slipping beside Jessica and turning to her. “You can join us if you want,” he said and pointed to a table closer to the band, where two other clean-cut males and an underdressed young woman sat surrounded by empty glasses and beer bottles.

  Jessica felt Anna’s fingers tighten possessively around her thigh.

  David noticed the others, offering a, “Hello.”

  “You’re Mr Foster’s son?” Anna asked.

  “That I am. It’s the first time I’ve seen you here.”

  “Yes. I don’t go out that often.”

  David turned to Jessica. “Do you want to meet my friends?”

  Jessica was about to say, “No,” when Anna forcefully answered for her. “We’re together.”

  “Okay, no problem,” David said, with an easy smile. He got up and went to the bar as his mates yelled drink orders across the room.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have answered for you.” Anna’s cheeks had turned crimson.

  “It’s okay. He’s doesn’t seem to understand my ‘no’ anyway. Yours worked.”

  “I’m glad.” With her free hand, Anna retrieved the menu from the centre of the table. She opened it and slid it under Jessica’s nose. “Don’t worry about money. I’ll cover you.”

  Jessica was pretty sure Anna didn’t know what she had just done. In the space of thirty seconds, she had put her at ease around her lack of funds and had chased off the overly friendly puppy. She’d also helped calm her fears of the pub by staying close.

  Finding Anna’s hand where it rested on her thigh, she entwined their fingers. It wasn’t so much that Jessica was desperate to hold her hand, although that was part of it. The sensation of Anna’s touch on her leg had become intense, and she needed a less arousing connection. She tried to concentrate on the menu, very aware of Anna studying her.

  After choosing the cheapest thing on the menu, Jessica turned to Anna. When their eyes met, Anna looked bewildered. She pursued her lips and double blinked, then shook her head as if a thought had got stuck.

  Sarah was saying something to them both that Jessica hadn’t heard.

  “Hello. This is English I’m speaking,” Sarah said, waving at them.

  “Sorry,” Anna responded.

  “I’ll order. What would you like to eat?” Sarah asked.

  “The lasagne.”

  “Jessica?”

  “The same for me, please.”

  “Got it.” Sarah
headed to the bar.

  “You seemed worried when you came in here. Is everything okay?”

  “I’m just not good in pubs.”

  “Why?”

  Jessica leaned into Anna without thinking. Her head brushed Anna’s. “Sorry,” she said and corrected her sitting position. “They remind me of—” She sighed. “A not so great night, years ago.” The memory of the horrific evening was fighting its way forward in her mind.

  “What happened?”

  Anna’s thumb was brushing over the top of hers in a surprisingly tender motion.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jessica said.

  “When will they start?” Abbie asked, thankfully interrupting any possible follow-up from Anna.

  “Any minute now, I think,” Anna answered, slowly, shifting her attention.

  Jessica let out a slow breath, relieved she was not going to be questioned further. Why are there so many things not to talk about all of a sudden? The thought triggered the jarring reminder she was still wanted by the police. Her past, present, and future were all converging into dark oblivion. Jessica would’ve become the black hole at its centre if it wasn’t for the reassuring hand of a beautiful American. At that moment, she felt the need to do something special for Anna and Abbie. Even if it was to be her last gesture. If Chris had no positive news tomorrow, it would be time to turn herself in.

  “So why did you want to see the band?” Anna asked Abbie.

  “I don’t want to see them,” Abbie said in a tone stereotypically projected at dimwits. “They’re going to do covers of The Underfex.”

  “They aren’t The Underfex?”

  “No, Mum, they’re The 8-Balls. I told you that.”

  “So who is The Underfex?”

  “Mum, you know them! Their songs are on all the time.”

  Anna shook her head.

  Abbie let out an exasperated sigh. “Like this.” She sang the chorus to a song and Katy joined in.

  “Oh, yes, I do like them.”

  Abbie rolled her eyes and went back to her phone.

  Leaning towards Jessica, Anna whispered, “It doesn’t look like they’ll be any good. They’re arguing.”

  The guitarist had his hand over the microphone and was yelling at the bass player. None of them looked to be older than nineteen. They sported the latest boy band haircuts and wore grubby, ripped jeans.

  Sarah returned with a tray of drinks and a stack of crisp packets. “Bad news, they’re not doing food. Good news, they’ll bring over baskets of chips and sandwiches.” Sarah sat and placed a glass of white wine in front of Anna, then Diet Cokes for the girls and Jessica, before reaching for her own drink.

  “What do you live on out here? It’s the edge of civilization,” Sarah said.

  Anna shrugged. “Chips and wine, mostly.” She opened a packet of crisps, offering one to Sarah.

  Sarah laughed. “Swear down.”

  Just then, the band started to play, and no one could be heard over the racket.

  “God, they’re shit,” Sarah yelled.

  Jessica frowned. They were ear-bleedingly bad.

  Anna released her hand and checked on her daughter. Abbie’s face had transformed from excited anticipation to abject disappointment. She’d been filming on her phone, but now lowered it. It looked like she was about to cry.

  A new lyric was injected into the rendition by the lead guitarist, “I told you! You’re out of tune, asshole!” He then took off his guitar and stormed out of the pub. The others stopped playing and, after a moment, the keyboardist said into his mic. “We’re having a technical issue.” He then raced after the guitarist, only to return a few minutes later without him and announced, “Sorry, everyone. Looks like that’s it.”

  “Why does bad stuff always happen to me?” Abbie complained, before retreating to her screen.

  “It’s nothing to do with you, Abbie,” Anna tried to soothe. “They’re just bad.”

  Anna’s shoulders had dropped, and lines of concern marked her forehead. She put an arm around Abbie and whispered something into her ear.

  Jessica closed her eyes. She could rectify this, but she hadn’t played in a long time. She’d heard the songs before and knew they would be easy to pick up by ear. No… I can’t be up there… This might be the last thing you do for them… Do it.

  Jessica gathered what strength she could find and stood. She fought the tension squeezing her insides, knowing once she started, the fear would be suppressed by the distraction of playing.

  WHAT ON EARTH? Anna thought as she regarded Jessica interacting with the young band members. What is she doing? There was a lot of nodding of heads, and then the keyboardist followed her to the amps where they changed some settings.

  Abbie and Katy were watching with the expectations of a dog at a dinner table.

  “What’s she’s up to?” Anna asked.

  It was intended as a rhetorical question, but Sarah answered. “I guess she’s going to join in. If she does, they’ll have to rename the band to The 6-Balls.”

  Jessica hadn’t said anything about being a musician. In fact, from what she had said, it had sounded as if she worked in an office. However, there she was, adjusting one of the tuners on the bass guitarist’s instrument. After he plucked a note, Jessica gave him the thumbs-up and removed her sweatshirt. She lifted the electric guitar’s strap over her head and spent a moment tuning the strings.

  “Abbie, can you come here a second with your phone?” Jessica asked into the microphone.

  Abbie leapt up and raced over, skirting around an incoming barmaid with a tray of sandwiches and chips.

  Anna put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her palms. She had been worried for Jessica who appeared nervous on the stage, unsure of herself, perhaps even trembling. After she had lifted on the guitar, her manner had changed. The sharp edges to Jessica’s features had dissipated. She no longer looked like a canary captured in a cage.

  The tight black T-shirt Anna had lent her was a size too small, accenting Jessica’s hips and impossibly perfect breasts. Anna couldn’t stop staring, and a sensation of desire grew from within her; it was a warmth she’d never felt before. Flushed, Anna bundled up her hair in one hand and lifted it away from her overheating neck and face.

  At that point, Jessica glanced her way and smiled.

  Awesome, she has a sixth sense, knowing when I’m… I’m what? Lusting after her? Extra awesome.

  “She must be able to play,” Sarah said, after devouring half of a cheese sandwich.

  “I guess so,” Anna said, fanning herself with her hand.

  Jessica seemed to be practising riffs as Abbie held her phone for her to hear.

  “She’s your sexuality confusion, right?”

  “Shh.” Anna squeezed Sarah’s arm. “And yes,” she whispered. “For some reason, I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame… Maybe, not a flame, a light.”

  “And you think you’re gay now?” Sarah said close to her ear.

  “I don’t know.”

  “She’s beautiful.” Sarah laughed. “I’d be gay for her.”

  “Jesus, Sarah. Please. Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

  “Why not now?”

  “Because my daughter’s best friend is sitting right beside you,” Anna said through gritted teeth, while gently elbowing Sarah in the ribs.

  Sarah took a slug of wine. “Yeah, okay. It’s calm.”

  At near light speed, Abbie dropped back into her seat. “Jessica’s going to play ‘Northern Lights’ and ‘Winter Girl,’” she announced. Her chirrupy excitement had returned.

  “Cool,” Katy chimed in.

  Abbie was on her screen again. Something Anna had no patience for. She couldn’t understand why teens spent so much time staring at their phones. In fact, she hated it. She hated what it did to Abbie—how upset she would get, how angry; all because of some Snapchat that had turned into a dis. “Abbie, put your phone down and eat some food.”

  “In a minute,
Mum. I need to film this.”

  Anna was about to tackle her daughter’s defiance when the band began to play.

  First the drums, keyboard, and then the bass kicked in, but it came to a halt when Jessica said, “Stop.” Next, she spoke off-mic to them all.

  “What’s happening?” Anna asked Sarah. She figured, since Sarah was in the music business, she would know something.

  Sarah was unable to respond straight away with several chips stuffed into her mouth. “Their timing—” She swallowed. “Their timing is bad. I’m not surprised the guitarist fucked off.”

  “Sarah, don’t swear. The kids.”

  “Oops, sorry. Not used to children being around.”

  The band began again and, as their instruments blended together, the difference from when they first played without Jessica was incredible. The volume was lower, and the distortion that had sent Anna’s fillings rattling was now absent. They no longer sounded like a cat dying in a corrugated outhouse. Instead, an indie group now had a progressive voice and groove.

  Jessica had begun to play.

  “Whoa,” Sarah said.

  “She’s great,” Anna muttered.

  They flicked a glance at each other.

  Four bars later, when Jessica began to sing, Anna’s jaw dropped. A surge of emotion travelled through her from her chest to her head. “Heck,” she muttered.

  Jessica’s timbre was so unique. Light and gentle but edged with soulful melismata that moved between each word.

  “This is lit!” Sarah said.

  Anna was gobsmacked, unable to respond. Her body was doing things she had no control over. She found it impossible to believe the dishevelled stranger, who’d appeared out of nowhere a week ago, had such stupefying amounts of talent. She even felt a bit embarrassed. Had Jessica been messing around with her all this time? I don’t understand. The music started to replace her thoughts, causing tension and uncertainty to ebb. She listened and glanced to Abbie, who was singing along, while still filming.

  This gave Anna a moment to wonder why Jessica affected her to such an extent. I like her. That’s all. She’s nice to be around. No big deal. And don’t forget she said she’ll leave soon. A thought occurred to Anna. She might have a crush on her. Maybe this was because, with Jessica, everything worked. Her plan was coming together because Jessica was part of it. Her days were better and her nights— Stop. She needed to end the preoccupation of wanting to kiss her and— Stop!