Chapter Forty-Nine
Forty-nine
Skye awoke suddenly, her heart hitting her throat as if flung from a slingshot.
The floor was hard beneath her. Disorientation muddied her thoughts. Skye rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was downstairs, on the deflated air bed, a sheet tangled by her feet.
Martyn. His threat. The argument.
Each memory landed heavily, a booted foot on her chest.
Her phone was within reach, its long white cable snaking up into a socket. Skye pulled it toward her. The time was 7:59 a.m. As she stared at the screen, the clock slipped forward to 8:00, and her alarm began to tinkle.
Nine hours until Martyn’s ferry left the island.
Nine hours to either return the Rolex to him or watch him leave, knowing the fight that would follow, the trouble she could be in if he reported her, the determination with which he would dismantle and destroy her life.
She could not let him. Would not let him.
Upstairs, she knocked on her bedroom door.
“Mum? Are you up?”
No answer.
Skye went inside to find the bed neatly made, her mother’s suitcase tucked away in a corner.
She was about to try calling when she heard the growl of approaching vehicles.
Through the window that overlooked the hillside, a police car appeared, followed closely by a van.
They had arrived to remove the bones from the garden of the empty house, remains that would be collected, tested, investigated.
Twenty minutes later, Skye had dressed and was tugging on her sneakers when someone knocked on the front door. Immediately, she thought of Andreas. But it wasn’t him. Instead, Theo stood there, sunlight catching his dark curls and turning them chestnut-bright.
“Of course!” She clutched her head. “It’s Wednesday. George’s lesson. Is it OK if—”
“You need to cancel?” Theo said. “I guessed as much, given that your mum is here.”
“It’s not that,” Skye began. “I just have something I need to take care of.”
“Say no more,” Theo assured her. “I don’t think even astronauts from the International Space Station would be able to drag my son away from peering over the wall at what the police are up to. He hasn’t stopped going on about those bones we found.”
“Have you already been over there?” she asked.
Theo slipped a backpack off his shoulder.
“Everyone’s over there except you and the girls,” he said.
“Dusty’s had some sort of construction disaster, Mia’s watching over the injured Bruno, and Louisa”—he paused, frowned—“actually, I’m not sure where she is.
Anyway, I had a quick word with the lead officer over there, and he said something I thought you’d want to know. ”
“Oh?”
Skye was halfway through tying her hair back with a band and only half heard him.
“The remains in your garden,” he went on. “What have the authorities told you about them?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Andreas spoke to them, and all they said was that the grave contained a mixture of both animal and human bones. Why?” As Theo cast a look toward the empty house, she added, “What do you know?”
“Well, when I spoke to the police a few minutes ago, they told me it was likely that the remains over there would turn out to date from the war. When I asked the man why he’d come to that conclusion, he said it was because of the other bones, the ones at your house.”
Skye felt a tingling in her fingertips.
“Do you think the two could be linked?” she asked.
“I can’t be sure,” Theo admitted. He unzipped his backpack and produced a manila folder. “The letters,” he explained. “The originals are all here, along with translations. I did the last few this morning.”
“Oh, wow. That’s amazing,” Skye enthused. “Is there anything mentioned in them that might shed a light on any of these discoveries?”
“Yes…” Theo said, drawing out the word.
“Sounds like there’s a but…”
“The girl,” Theo said, “Katerina. She wrote most of these letters, but none of them were ever sent. They’re all addressed to the same person, but most read more like passages from a diary.”
“That makes sense,” Skye said. “There was no postal service in the Cyclades Islands during the occupation. I looked it up.”
“Sad, really,” Theo replied. “It’s hard to imagine a world where you can’t simply pick up a phone or send a quick text, isn’t it? Not that some people even bother to do that,” he added bitterly.
Skye accepted the folder.
“There’s a lot of information in there,” he said. “I think it’s only right that you have a chance to see everything first, before we show the letters to the police.”
“The police?” Skye’s eyes widened.
“You’ll see what I mean once you’ve read them.” Theo shouldered his backpack. “I’d better get back to George. I left him with Adam. They were taking photos of a colony of beetles last I saw. Will you be coming over?”
Skye shook her head.
“Not right now. There’s something else I need to do first.”
The urge to read every single word Katerina had written was so strong that it dragged a groan from her. Reluctant to leave the precious bundle behind, she retrieved a tote bag and slid the folder inside, locking the front door behind her.
Skye knew her mother, and Cassandra MacKinnon was a woman who insisted upon quality. The freeze-dried coffee granules in her daughter’s kitchen would not have passed muster. Far from having no idea where her mum could have gone, Skye knew exactly where to look.
She set off down the hillside and joined the main road.
It was hot enough that she could feel the sun-warmed tarmac through the soles of her sneakers.
The air tasted thick and metallic. Nature was everywhere, raw and unrestrained, surviving despite the wind, the heat, the dryness.
She, too, must find a way to endure, as this island endured.
With renewed purpose, Skye increased her pace, reaching the taverna entrance only to bump into Louisa coming the other way. She was laden with blue carrier bags from the mini-market, and there were larger bags below her eyes.
“I know, I look awful,” she said by way of a greeting.
“Impossible,” Skye told her. “I’ve never seen you not looking like a modern-day Rapunzel.”
“Mia keeps on at me to cut this off,” she said with a disdainful swish of her long red hair.
“Don’t you dare,” Skye said with mock severity.
“Do you have any siblings?” Louisa asked.
“No? Lucky you. I mean, I love my sisters, but sometimes, I think I’d have a quieter life living with a hive of bees.
I had my own place in Bristol, but after Mum died…
” She trailed off. “Anyway, I shouldn’t hold you up.
I only came out to get some snacks for Dusty.
She’s in the most furious temper. The earthquake cracked all the concrete she’d laid in the extension.
It’s not salvageable, apparently, so she’s having to start all over again. ”
Skye winced.
“What did Andreas say?” she asked. “I presume he knows?”
“I’ve been trying to call him,” Louisa said. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from him?”
“Not much,” Skye said mildly. “I’m sure he’ll reappear soon enough.”
“Maybe he’s upset,” Louisa ventured.
Skye looked up sharply.
“Upset?”
“Well, you know, what with your husband turning up…”
“That’s not the reason,” Skye said firmly.
A spot of color glowed on each of Louisa’s cheeks.
“I thought that you and he were—”
“We’re not.”
“Oh.” She readjusted her grip on the bags. “Sorry.”
“It’s a complicated situation,” Skye said. “Between me and my husband, I mean, not Andreas.”
“Say no more.” Louisa smiled fleetingly.
“It’s none of my business anyway. I haven’t been gossiping about you, I swear.
I just…I watch people. I always have; it’s the way I am.
I notice things, the small stuff. Whenever I’ve seen you and Andreas together, the pair of you seem so close.
I shouldn’t have assumed, I suppose, but it didn’t feel as if I was, if that makes any kind of sense? ”
Skye’s mouth opened, then closed again. She settled on a nod.
“I’ve gone and put my foot in it, haven’t I?” Louisa sighed. “Dusty’s right. I should keep my stupid opinions to myself.”
“You’re not stupid,” Skye said quickly. “And I’m not at all offended, I promise. But I really do have to go.”
“Right you are.” Louisa moved aside. “If I do get ahold of Andreas, is there anything you want me to tell him? Any message I can pass on for you?”
Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I didn’t mean to lie. Ask him why he never told me the truth—why I can’t stop thinking about him.
Skye’s finger curled around the strap of her bag. She took a breath, held it.
“No,” she said. “Nothing.”