Chapter Seventy-Seven Holly
Chapter Seventy-seven
HOLLY
Adrianna assesses me coolly, glancing around to be sure the guards have left.
‘Well then, Holly.’ She smiles. ‘Aren’t you clever?’
‘I’m right then?’ I say. ‘Elysium was a former prison island.’
‘They called it a reform school,’ she says.
‘The philosophy was to tame fallen women and wayward girls from wealthy families before they fell into disgrace. Not that they had much success. Margaret Kensington fell apart in the tropical climate. Her regime was so harsh that most of the first wave of pupils died. They covered it up and claimed it was down to cholera. Kept taking on new pupils. Little joke on my dad by the English Kensingtons. This whole island is basically a grave.’
Her deep blue eyes stare distractedly into the distance.
‘It’s been a nightmare for construction,’ she adds. ‘The ground is unstable on the old burial sites. We’ve had to rebuild, like, so many times. Cost way more than we ever anticipated.’
‘So that’s the big family secret?’ I suggest, refilling our glasses and passing her one.
Adrianna sips distractedly, looking confused.
‘It’s more like a history we don’t widely disseminate.
We don’t want guests knowing they’ll be sipping martinis on the remains of dead prisoners.
And Kensington Manor School is one of the most prestigious in the country.
Doesn’t look good if the founding headmistress went insane in the Tropics, mistreating girls. ’
I empty my tequila glass. This time it’s Adrianna who refills both.
‘Back in Dad’s day, the island history was just like a colorful addition. Now it’s not something we want to be associated with. The Kensington brand has a dark side. But the violent oppression of women?’ She wrinkles her slim nose. ‘Off brand. Completely off brand.’
I rub my temples. I feel as though I’ve been led down a rabbit hole. I’ve lost a lot of time. But I’m trying to think. Could someone be angry with the Kensingtons for their past cruelties, forty years after the fact? Unlikely.
Which means … I’ve got it all wrong. Put Fitzwilliam in danger.
Adrianna is looking at me coolly. ‘We’re all in the business of stories, Holly,’ she says. ‘Even you. Georgia looked you up. You’re a forensic. That means putting the right story to the court.’
‘I tell the truth,’ I say quietly. ‘According to the evidence.’
‘There are different kinds of truth, Holly. Haven’t you learned that by now?’ She turns back to the bar, a strange expression on her face, then switches her sapphire eyes on me.
‘I’m drunk,’ she says.
‘Me too,’ I admit. Although, given her size zero physique, I’m willing to bet, I’m not half so drunk as she is.
I pour us both another measure of tequila. Lift it to chink glasses, then remember Fitzwilliam’s earlier advice and raise it high instead.
‘Here’s to Silky,’ I say. Adrianna nods sadly, her blue eyes thoughtful.
‘Holly,’ she says, ‘why do you think Silky did that? To Simone?’ She says it with such sudden raw vulnerability, I’m stunned. ‘Why did she cut her hair? Put her in my wedding dress?’
I consider the question.
‘I don’t think she did,’ I say, finally.
‘Then who?’ she says.
‘I don’t know,’ I tell her. ‘But if you help me, I can try to find out.’
Adrianna lifts her head to the ceiling, then lets out a deep sigh. ‘This conversation is over,’ she mutters. ‘Time you joined your friend on the off-shore boat.’
‘I think this all comes back to your boarding school,’ I tell her.
‘Whatever happened to you all there. It’s why you were kidnapped.
It’s why Silky and Simone died. And I think you know the truth, but you’re not telling.
There’s a lost little girl inside you,’ I say.
‘Who wants to speak out, but is afraid.’
Her eyes flash up at me, and she throws back her tequila shot.
‘No, there isn’t. That’s the power of the school, Holly.
You split yourself into pieces to survive.
It was how we got through it. Part of me became Adrianna Kensington.
The beautiful girl in the pictures. The girl you’re talking about died a long time ago. Back at that school.’
Her eyes roll up to me, and she looks so sad, I feel like I’m drowning in her deep blue eyes. There’s a flicker of surprise, suddenly. Adrianna is looking at someone over my shoulder.
‘Holly?’ The spite in the voice is so strong, I flinch as I turn around. It’s Ophelia, freckled face bared in rage, her whole body stiff with malice. ‘What the hell are you doing?’