I return to Jamie Porthcawl’s house after my conversation with Madron, the man’s stern warning rattling around my head. I’d rather focus for now on the bones uncovered on Badplace Hill than the violence emerging from my own past. I’ve tried casting my memory back to the islanders I knew as a boy, but I was too busy growing up to care about the adult world. My dealings with Jamie over the years make him seem an unlikely murderer, and he’s not the type to hide his feelings easily. One of the reasons he’s well liked across the islands is for wearing his heart on his sleeve, so open and honest he’s rarely out of work.
The Porthcawls’ house looks welcoming as dusk settles over Bryher, orange light emanating from the downstairs rooms, but when Bella answers my knock on the door, her eyes are red and puffy.
‘Are you okay?’
‘We’ve had an awful day, to be honest, Ben. Our dog died a few hours ago. She went peacefully, thank God, but I haven’t stopped crying.’ She takes a step back, beckoning me inside. ‘Come in, I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘Sorry to trouble you again, Bella. That’s sad news about your dog.’
‘Jamie’s in a right old state. It would help him to talk to another bloke. He’s hiding in his workshop.’
She leads me outside, where music is spilling from a large shed in the back garden. Jamie seems to be exorcising his grief with some classy American soul, Marvin Gaye’s silky tenor explaining that he heard it through the grapevine. The builder looks startled when I tap on the door. He swings round with hammer raised, and I put up my hands.
‘I come in peace, Jamie.’
His man cave is equipped with power drills, saws and hammers, his tools lining the wall in neat rows. He switches off his music straight away.
‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming.’
‘Bella told me about your dog. Are you okay?’
‘We knew it was coming, but it’s still a shock.’ He gestures at the pieces of wood lying on his workbench. ‘I’m making a box to lay her in before we bury her in the garden. It’s weird how they become part of the family, isn’t it?’
‘I know what you mean.’
Jamie’s straightforward personality shows in every corner of his workspace. It’s neat and orderly, the floor swept clean. I can tell he enjoys his time here. There’s a chair by the workbench, and an old-fashioned radio.
‘Have you got news about Badplace Hill?’
‘Not yet. We’re looking for evidence to help us identify the bones.’
‘So you came back here?’ His eyes linger on my face.
‘I need information about any islanders who left Bryher suddenly, twenty or thirty years ago. Your brother Hugh moved away in that time span, didn’t he?’
Jamie’s body language changes immediately, his shoulders tensing. ‘He’s been in the States for over twenty years. We’re not in contact.’
‘We can talk about this tomorrow if it’s easier.’
He shakes his head vehemently. ‘No need, it’s ancient history now.’
‘Why did he leave so suddenly?’
‘It was inevitable, I suppose. Bryher was too small for him. Hugh was three years younger than me, but way smarter. Everyone expected him to become a big shot one day.’
‘Did you get on?’
‘We had our ups and downs. He could be a pain, but I loved him anyway.’ He gazes down at his workbench. ‘He won a scholarship to a boarding school on the mainland. Dad thought he was lording it every time he came back, which pissed him off royally. After Hugh finished his A levels, they rowed nonstop. Dad expected him to help with building work, but Hugh refused. He wanted a gap year, even though I was busting a gut labouring for Dad full-time.’
‘Was your father angry?’
‘Furious. Mum got so sick of the shouting matches, she used to go out to get away from it, but I understood Hugh’s position. He saw the island as a trap, thwarting his ambitions. I can’t remember what sparked the biggest row between them, but it ended the relationship. Hugh walked out and never came back.’
‘What happened exactly?’
Jamie scrubs his hands across his face. ‘Dad said he was insulting the way of life that had supported him since childhood. There was a lot of yelling, then one of them threw a punch. Hugh packed his bag and stomped off into the night.’
‘Did he leave Bryher straight away?’
‘He must have cadged a lift off a boatman. Mum tried to track him down on the mainland, without any luck. Two years later, Dad threw Hugh’s things out and redecorated his room, but he paid the price. I think the stress brought on his Alzheimer’s, and poor Mum bottled everything inside.’
‘Did Hugh ever make contact?’
‘Just a few letters from the States, years later, saying he’d made a life for himself out there.’ He gives an awkward shrug. ‘I wrote back inviting him to Dad’s funeral, but the letter bounced. Bella says I should forget it and move on. If Hugh doesn’t want contact with us, why force it?’
‘Did your mum keep his letters?’
‘I expect they’re in the attic somewhere, among the junk.’
‘Can you find them for me tonight?’
His reply takes a long time to arrive. ‘You think it was Hugh’s skull in the ground, don’t you?’
‘I have to track down any young men who left Bryher unexpectedly back then. Sorry if this is uncomfortable, but I need a DNA sample from you as well. If we find any bone fragments, we can use it to check if it’s your brother.’
‘That skeleton can’t be his. My parents were simple people, regular churchgoers. They never lied to me about anything.’ His eyes glint with anger.
‘I’m afraid they may have been fooled as well.’
There’s an awkward moment when I produce a plastic tube from my pocket, then take a swab from his mouth, neither of us meeting the other’s eye.
‘I’ll find those letters tonight.’ His expression is calming, the bad temper I witnessed almost gone. ‘What do you think of this box, Ben? I’m using teak, so it should last years.’
I glance down. ‘It looks top quality to me. I’ll let you finish it.’
The sound of Marvin Gaye’s wistful voice follows me back to the house. Bella gives me a hopeful look when I return to the kitchen, but I’m keen to leave. I never enjoy questioning someone I like, but it goes with the territory in Scilly, where lives are so tightly connected.
It’s 8 p.m. by the time I finally get back to Hell Bay. My head’s still spinning with unanswered questions. Someone is sitting on the bench outside my house, his lanky form instantly recognisable. Dev hasn’t adapted to island life yet, his appearance much too smart. He’s dressed in expensive jeans, trainers and a well-cut jacket, putting me to shame. When I look through the kitchen window, Nina and Zoe are at the table, their heads bowed close while they talk.
‘Did they kick you out?’ I ask, joining him on the bench.
‘More or less.’
‘We could stage a protest.’
‘Not yet, Zoe needs a woman’s support right now.’ He looks out at the sea. ‘It almost broke her this time.’
‘You must be feeling it too.’
‘It’s different for us, isn’t it? The trauma happens inside their bodies, not ours.’
‘She’ll recover. Zoe’s one of the toughest women I know.’
‘The trouble is, she wants a kid so badly, the feeling never goes away.’
‘She says the same about you.’
‘It didn’t occur to me that we’d struggle. I thought babies would arrive every few years until we drew the line.’ I can hear sadness echoing in his voice. ‘How about you, Ben? Are you looking forward to parenthood?’
‘I’m just hoping not to screw it up.’
He gives a dry laugh. ‘Zoe and I should adopt. We work with thousands of kids in India who all deserve a loving home.’
It’s the yearning on his face that pulls me up short. It’s a reminder that I’m thirty-eight years old, well past the point where most people start a family. My own father worked day and night at my age to support his teenage sons, but I only appreciated his sacrifices after he died. The memory is soon interrupted by a peal of laughter from inside the house, and Dev looks relieved.
‘Thank God, I hate it when she cries.’
‘She hardly ever did when we were young. One time she fell when we were rock-climbing and broke her ankle. Most kids would bawl their eyes out, but she just gritted her teeth and got on with it.’
‘The word’s “indomitable”, isn’t it? That crime-scene guru you brought over seems the same; I chatted with her this morning. She certainly speaks her mind.’
‘Liz can be tricky, but she’s brilliant at her job. I’m expecting answers soon.’
‘Strange, isn’t it? That young man was someone’s son or brother, yet no one noticed him disappear.’
The front door swings open before I can reply. He rises to his feet when Zoe emerges, then walks straight into his arms. There’s relief on his face when she finally draws away, his arm still slung around her shoulders.
‘How are you doing?’ I ask her.
‘Better, big man, just really tired. Nina’s an amazing listener. I’ve chewed her ear off for hours.’
‘Don’t I get a hug goodnight?’
I catch a glimpse of my old friend’s zest for life when she jumps into my arms. She still smells of jasmine and fresh air, like the old days.
Nina looks pale when I go inside. I can tell she’s absorbed some of Zoe’s sadness, even though she’s trained to keep her emotions separate. It must be different when a friend unloads their woes, rather than a client. She seems relieved when I tell her to put her feet up; I’ll bring her camomile tea in bed. When I pour boiling water into her favourite cup, the smell of summer flowers greets me, another reminder of how much life has changed. I only drank black coffee until Nina arrived; even my food and drink choices have been revolutionised.
I look out of the window at starlight reflected on the ocean, letting the quiet slow my racing thoughts. If one of Craig Travis’s cronies wants to settle old scores, I’ll stand my ground, but I’ll have to tell Nina tonight. The idea of anything happening to her or the baby scares me far more than getting hurt myself. It’s taken me a lifetime to find what I need; there’s no way I’ll put it at risk.
I spend a while rehearsing how to explain the situation, ten minutes passing before I’m ready to tell the truth, but when I reach the bedroom, Nina’s fast asleep. She doesn’t flinch, even when I clatter around, then drop my clothes on a chair. My back feels stiff with tension as I slip under the sheets. Nina shifts towards me, her head settling on my chest. The speech I prepared lingers in my mind, its message too urgent to ignore.