Emma is at the front door of the community centre ready to open up in preparation for the children’s tea party this afternoon. The event is designed to keep kids and parents away from the pub, which will be rammed with visitors. It’s also somewhere any islanders who are rowing or watching the races can dump their offspring while they get on with it. Emma doesn’t need to use her key because Old Betty has forgotten to lock up again. That’s not such a big deal because the bar is always secured by barman Will Ash (whose brain is several decades younger and a good deal more reliable), and booze is the only thing anyone might want to take. The Old Ship will be the focal point for most of the gig-championship partying, but there will also be a big do for the Tresco crews here tomorrow, so it’s already fully stocked.
Emma doesn’t immediately switch on the lights. Half the room is flooded with sunlight, chairs stacked neatly along the other side. 272
As her eyes adjust to the shadow bisecting the room she notices someone has left a large bag under one of the tables at the back. Why wasn’t that cleared away? She’ll have to have a word with Old Betty. Only, as she approaches, the bag moves.
For a moment, Emma freezes. It is only when her eyes make out it’s someone lying in a contorted heap that she galvanises herself. She kneels to find a woman half-dressed beneath a pink coat, her face bloody and swollen, her skin perishingly cold to the touch. Jesus! She covers her with her own jacket, to warm her up and preserve her modesty.
Emma gently shakes her shoulder, and asks, ‘Hello. Can you hear me? Are you okay?’
She is very obviously not okay.
Emma phones Vlad, who’s one of the first responders on duty today, trying to keep her voice professional. ‘Injured woman in the community centre. Possible hypothermia. Um…’ She can’t think of the posh word for bruises. ‘Oh yes, contusions.’
‘On my way.’
Emma feels sick but manages to keep it together to call the pub next. Nurse Kelly has let her flat on Airbnb for the gig weekend, a lucrative deal, and she’s staying with Alison at the Old Ship for the duration.
Then she calls the police station on St Mary’s.
While Emma waits for medical help, she gently rubs the woman’s hands between her own to warm them up. The state she’s in, she’s obviously been attacked, so she tells her it will all be okay, and that help is coming – what else can you say?
Within fifteen minutes, Vlad and the nurse arrive, informing Emma that Sergeant Jack Moore is already on his way over from St Mary’s. 273
Vlad stands to the side and looks away as Kelly does a preliminary check to ascertain they don’t need the Air Ambulance, as far as she can tell. They’ll travel over to St Mary’s hospital by the jet boat, although they’ll have to avoid the racers and spectators. There’s a flurry of calls.