Chapter 11
Erica
Erica had flown in a helicopter many times in her career, but this one seemed a little bit special. It felt like she was running away. Petra, her assistant, had booked her a private helicopter. Her luggage had been put on board for her two-month stay on the remote island. Two things surprised her when she got to the small airport in Penzance. The first part was that she needed to be weighed and the second part absolutely nobody recognised her. It was one of those things that she tried to tackle in her mind. She didn’t want to be identified but was disappointed when she wasn’t, but then that was her ego thinking. The news of her husband having an affair with a young woman and that he was soon to be a father have mortified her. Speculation was going into overdrive that it was a publicity stunt to get the sympathy. That wasn’t something she understood because she had just won an Oscar. Why would she want sympathy?
The large helicopter could seat eight, but she was alone. If she had more of a circle of friends outside Yanny, Erica could’ve filled the aircraft for her time away. Erica settled herself at the back and stared out the window when they took off. Flying across the water, deep blue seas eventually turned into light blue and then clear water with golden sands.
She had no idea that the small oasis was only fifty miles off the coast of England. The type of waters and sand she’d only seen in the Caribbean. The main island she’d landed on was Copper Island which was bustling with tourists. Erica desperately didn’t want to be recognised and pulled the cap further down over her brow with dark sunglasses. She didn’t look out of place on the gorgeous sunny day. A couple of men loaded her luggage onto the small boat, and in no time at all, she was speeding across the water to the other side of the small island. Erica had researched Copper Island and found that it was a privately owned island going back four hundred years. There was something about the island’s history that intrigued her. She wanted to stay somewhere within flying distance should she need to get back to the mainland. She heavily tipped the two boatmen when she stepped off the sloping concrete quay. They smiled and nodded their heads and climbed back into their boat. Another man appeared in green overalls with what looked like a golf cart with a trailer behind it.
“Are you Erica Taylor?” he asked.
She’d heard that sentence hundreds and hundreds of times in the last decade, but the tone he used wasn’t curiosity. As if she wasn’t an Oscar-winning actress, but more he was sent to pick her up, and he was just checking a name.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Ralph. I’ll get your bags into the trailer, and then we can get you to your cottage. ”
Erica helped him put all the bags into the back of the trailer, feeling slightly guilty that she had brought a dozen suitcases with her for a two-month stay. While she felt like she was running away, Erica also felt like she was temporarily moving house and wanted to have everything around her.
The buggy was surprisingly fast as they drove along the concrete paths between palm trees and thick grass. Semi-circles of houses, shops, and cafes had surrounded the main port, but when she got to the deserted quay, Erica could hear waves crashing against rocks and birds squawking and nothing else.
“You’ll have a great time here, Miss Taylor. We’ll take care of all of your needs.”
“Thank you. Do you work at the house?”
“I’m the gardener, but I double up as a driver if people need a lift up from the quay.”
“Thanks for coming to get me. I’m sorry I pulled you away from your day job.”
“It’s not a problem. That’s what I’m paid to do.”
They rounded the corner on a tight bend, and she grabbed the metal pole in the open buggy. Then they came to a grinding halt.
“Here we are. I know you’ve got all five cottages for privacy, but this is the one we thought you would like the most. It’s called Emma Lodge. I’ll help you with your bags.
“Thanks, Ralph,” Erica said.
She gave him a hand again with the bags making it quick. She offered a tip as she had with the boatman, but he refused to take her money.
“All part of the service, Miss Taylor.”
She nodded and respected his answer, saying goodbye. As soon as the door was closed behind him, she felt her shoulders drop. Complete isolation for two months if she could get away with it. Erica wouldn’t even turn on her internet access.
When Yanny said she would stay in a cottage, she imagined dark corners and low ceilings. A one-storey building. But this cottage was huge. It was like a small house, and the rooms were light and airy. Standing in the middle of the living room with the big plump sofas and armchairs, she thought she could quickly get used to living there.
She took her luggage up the stairs and chose the first room to dump all her baggage. The room had a full set of wardrobes as well as a bed. She would use this as her dressing room. She kicked off her shoes and walked down the corridor to inspect the other rooms. Finding the main bedroom at the end of the hall, she entered and then flopped down on the bed. She’d been travelling for twelve hours with an overnight train journey down to Penzance. What she needed was a shower.
Stripping off her clothes and dropping them on the bathroom floor, she reached into the shower room and pressed the button for the shower.
A bolt of electricity hit her finger and travelled up her arm.
Erica cursed a long streak of expletives while ambling backwards. She steadied herself on the vanity table without falling over completely. She gave the shower a deathly glare and had a quick wash out of the sink.
She returned to her makeshift dressing room and found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Then, running down the stairs, she left the cottage. She didn’t come to Copper Island to die on her first morning.
Walking with purpose along the path to the next cottage, she reached the front door. It looked like somebody was living in it. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Erica could see a grander house in the distance through the tall trees. When she got to that building, it was utterly deserted. Erika could see an even more prominent place, more like a stately home in the far distance. It took ten minutes to get there. The imposing building screamed go away, but she needed to speak to somebody.
Hearing somebody was mowing a lawn, she turned in that direction. Walking around the perimeter of the vast mansion, she spotted Ralph, the man who had picked her up from the quay. Standing with her fists to her head, she waited for him to turn the mower to face her. When she got this attention, she waved. Ralph turned the machine off and jumped down, wiping his hands on a rag he pulled from his pocket.
“Is everything all right, Miss Turner?”
“No, Ralph, I’m afraid it’s not. I just stepped into the shower and got electrocuted.”
“Oh my God, are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but it’s obviously a death trap. Can I move cottages?”
“Why don’t I send the maintenance guy around first to see if you can see what the problem is?”
“That would be great. Do you know how long that will be?”
“I’ll go and fetch him right now. Do you want a lift back to your cottage?”
“No, that’s unnecessary.”
Ralph didn’t know how to end the conversation, so he turned his back and strode towards the main house. Erica looked up at the building, wondering what kind of family lived inside the four walls. She hoped it was a happy home.
She spied the swimming pool on the other side of the grounds and noted its location. She would need to use that very soon.