Chapter 29
I awake from a dreamless sleep to a brilliant, sunny morning.
Every muscle in my body is sore from last night’s ordeal, and my mind is reeling from the danger we were in, but at the same time, I feel full of anticipation for the future.
A future with Will? It’s early days, but we’ll see.
I meant what I said, though: I’m through with rogues – lesson learned.
In the distance, the Halcyon is still anchored in the bay, flanked by two coastguard vessels.
It seems like a lifetime ago that I stood at her prow, the wind in my hair and salt on my lips.
Ollie lied to me about the Halcyon not leaving her berth at night.
It seems they regularly landed their trafficked goods and people in my cove.
The ghost ship I saw – no doubt it was the real ship combined with the power of suggestion and a trick of my mind.
None of it was real, and that makes me a little sad.
‘Mum, there’s a policeman here,’ Bridget calls to me from the door. ‘He wants to talk to you.’
‘Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.’
I dress in a hoodie and jeans and go downstairs, worried that something else bad has happened.
But luckily, it’s just a routine follow-up.
The officer informs me that the forensics at the museum are finished and I’m free to go inside.
He also gives me the heads-up that several more people have been arrested, and that Alex’s father is being questioned for possible involvement from the ‘inside’.
‘And what about the refugees?’ I say. ‘Those poor people! Please tell me that they’re somewhere safe.’
‘Yes,’ he assures me, ‘they’re being looked after.
A few of them were taken to hospital to be checked out, and the rest were taken to temporary accommodation in Truro.
Their cases will be reviewed individually.
It’s not an ideal situation, obviously, but better than being bought and sold like slaves. ’
‘That’s for sure. I just hate to think about what they’ve suffered. And I’d like to help if I can. If any of them need housing, or work – or English lessons. The whole situation has opened my eyes to a lot of things.’
‘I understand,’ the officer says. ‘In this job, we see a lot. But at the end of the day, it’s about helping people. That’s what matters.’
He gives me his card and tells me to call the station – they can give me the details of some charities that might need volunteers. He shows himself out, and I go to the kitchen window and look out to sea.
A living thing – that was how Will described it. In this one case, it gave up its bounty. Whether in an act of benevolence or just random luck, my children are safe. The refugees are safe. It’s a new day, and our lives are full of possibilities.
After breakfast, I go round to the museum.
The main rooms are largely undamaged, save for the muddy footprints left by the armed response unit.
The pirate cave, however, is another matter.
The door at the bottom of the stairs was broken by the officers, and a half-hearted strand of yellow police tape has been strung across.
The place seems less sinister in the light of day, but an air of sadness still pervades.
Down in the cave, the pirate exhibition is in a worse state than I thought.
After we left, the forensics team stayed to take photographs and samples, and there are several little exhibition markers.
The whole awful scene comes rushing back, along with a memory of fear that in yesterday’s state of fight or flight, I’d barely even registered.
In my mind, I can hear the explosion of Ollie’s gun, the shattering of glass, and the screams and shouts echoing through the cave.
Several of the wax pirates have fallen over like soldiers felled in battle, their heads and limbs separated from cloth-stuffed bodies.
The wax Bess is lying in a heap on the floor where I pushed her off, her bedclothes rumpled and the three-legged dog toppled into the pool of fake blood.
My shoes crunch over broken glass from the ship in a bottle.
The little vessel inside, so lovingly crafted, lies broken on the floor.
I reach down and pick up the model ship.
It’s about the length of my forearm and just over a handspan tall, not including the rigging, which has partially snapped off when the model fell to the floor.
The hull and the deck separate in my hands, and I find myself staring into the bowels of the ship.
There’s something inside – a rolled-up piece of paper, yellowed with age.
I take my find back towards the stairs, where the light is brighter. As I’m about to unfold the paper, I hear the sound of footsteps and whistling from the museum above. I carefully put the scroll in my pocket instead, to read later.
‘Elspeth?’ I call out.
‘Juno? That you?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I’ve come round to help clean up the mess.’
‘Oh aye,’ she says. She comes down the stairs, her footsteps heavy and laboured. ‘Quite the to-do, I hear.’
‘Yes, it was.’ I tell her what I know, including the punchline – that the refugees are safe, as well as the kids. I hope my account is sufficient to stop asking her too many questions, because I’m still overwhelmed by the recent events and don’t want to relive them again.
‘What about Cliff?’ she says. ‘I talked to him last night, but do you know when he’ll be discharged? He’s… not good in those types of places.’
‘I don’t know for sure,’ I say, ‘but I hope it’s soon because he needs to get rid of his stash in my cave.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Elspeth doesn’t quite meet my eyes.
‘But anyway, I’m hoping to talk to Will later. He might be able to tell us more about Cliff’s condition—’
‘I can…’ A voice comes from the door. Will! He came back – just like he said he would. ‘…and I’m glad to report that he should make a full recovery. He has a minor concussion that was likely caused by a fall, not an assault. He did have quite a high blood-alcohol content, as it turns out.’
‘Oh,’ Elspeth and I say at the same time. But I’m surprised when her face colours. ‘That might be my fault,’ she says. ‘He took me out on a sunrise cruise yesterday morning, for my birthday. Maybe we had a bit too much of his special whisky.’
Will rolls his eyes. ‘I think you could say that.’
‘Imported from France, I believe?’ I feel I have to add.
‘It won’t happen again,’ the older woman says, taking in both Will and me. ‘I promise.’
‘Good, but as Cliff’s proxy,’ Will says, ‘I have to tell you that he needs looking after. But if you’re willing to take that on…’
‘Oh yes, I am. If he’ll have me, that is.’
He smiles. ‘I think he will. But you can ask him yourself later; he should be discharged this evening if all’s well.’
‘Thank the Lord.’
‘I’d also thank Juno, too,’ he says. ‘She found him and took him to hospital.’
Elspeth doesn’t thank me – she throws her arms around me and gives me a tremendous squeeze.
‘I don’t think Cliff’s ancestors are quite ready to let him off the hook yet,’ I say, a little short of breath.
Elspeth insists she can do the rest of the cleaning up herself (and I tell her I’ll send Bridget over as soon as she’s up).
Will and I leave the museum, and I ask him if he’d like to come to the main house for a coffee.
As soon as we’re alone, I feel giddy and a little nervous.
Does he regret the kiss? Does he worry that I might regret it?
But as soon as we’re alone, he draws me to him. ‘I was afraid I’d only imagined last night,’ he says. ‘I hope I haven’t.’
I answer him by pulling his face to mine, kissing him deeply. I think we might stay like that forever, but all of a sudden, Bridget appears at the top of the stairs.
‘Get a room,’ she says, rolling her eyes.
Will laughs as we come up for air. I step back, embarrassed, as Connor and Med come up behind her and bound down the stairs, looking none the worse for wear after their ordeal.
‘Shall we have that coffee?’ I say to Will. ‘And I’ll cook breakfast for everyone?’
‘You make the coffee and I’ll do the cooking – how does that sound?’
‘Amazing.’ I smile. ‘I won’t say no.’
Will cooks, I make the coffee, and Connor and Med both eat big bowls of cereal while they’re waiting for the eggs and toast to be ready.
Bridget pours herself a Diet Coke and sits at the table glaring at me like she resents my happiness.
Which she probably does. I may have lost a husband and a Pirate King, but she’s lost a new boyfriend as well, and has nothing to show for it.
The breakfast is delicious, however, and she eats heartily before going over to the museum to help Elspeth.
‘Can we go to the beach, Mum?’ Connor asks. ‘Until Med’s uncle gets here?’
Will and I exchange a glance.
‘Can you two promise that this time, you’re not going to get kidnapped, or chased by traffickers, or explore dangerous caves, or otherwise get hurt?’
‘Nope,’ he says, grinning wryly.
‘Off you go, then,’ I say.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
When Connor, Med and Bridget have all left the house, I glance shyly at Will. ‘Do you have plans for the day?’
‘Only involving you.’
I blush. ‘Well, in that case, I think we should do what Bridget said.’
He lowers his eyelids. ‘And what’s that?’
‘This is an inn, after all. I think we should “get a room”.’
And that’s exactly what we do.