Ruby wakes from a nightmare about her father. There were no mourners at his funeral when his fierce grip on life finally ended. No one bothered to pay their last respects. She sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes to erase the image. When she peers through the curtains, there’s a fisherman on the sand below, unloading lobster creels. His movements are slow and deliberate as he clears the deck of his boat, like he’s performing a dance he’s practised all his life. The rest of the beach is empty. There’s nothing marking the horizon except one matchbox-sized freighter, far out in the shipping lane, as dawn arrives.
She can feel her heartbeat slowing as her stress fades, but it would be a mistake to let down her guard. She pulls her Isles of Scilly guidebook from her rucksack and scans the largest map. The islands are a cluster of dark fragments afloat on the Atlantic’s green surface, and the territory is forcing her to adapt. She’ll need an escape route after killing Ben Kitto – if she can reach his house on Bryher. Anxiety about the future clouds her thoughts, so she looks out of the window again and tries to imagine an alternative life. Now that her past has been erased, she could relax here, with no one to cast blame. It only takes her a moment to snap out of it and remember that her own future is unimportant. She’s still her father’s handmaid, with no intention of going to jail. His suffering has proved that life inside is unbearable. She’s spent years watching the light in his eyes fade to a dull glow of anger, and his suffering must be avenged.
She’s studying her map of Bryher when a text arrives from Joe telling her not to be late. She smiles before deleting the message; it’s lucky that she’s met someone with good local knowledge. He could be the key to her final hit.