“That’s big of you. Aren’t the police looking for him?”
“They want to talk to him about the fire, along with everyone else who was there that night. I’ve told him that he needs to go into the station to make a statement.”
Bea’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think he will?”
“I don’t know. I’ll mention it again today.” Charmaine had to walk a fine line with her friendships. She hated for Bea to think Sean might’ve had something to do with the fire at her café, but the truth was, Charmaine didn’t know. She couldn’t believe he would do something so destructive, but then she’d been wrong about him before on countless occasions. If she reported him to the police, he might end up in prison. Perhaps he was right — the local cops might frame him. They’d framed Betsy’s brother—at least, that was the story according to Betsy.
“I have good news,” Bea said suddenly, changing tack.
“I’d love to hear it.”
“Harry got into the medicine program at uni. He’ll be studying it next year.”
Charmaine grinned. “That’s amazing. I’m so happy for him—and for you.”
“He knew what he wanted to do with his life when he was a small child. Now it’s finally happening. I’m so proud of him.”
“You should be proud. That’s a big achievement.”
Beatrice returned to her table to order. There was a lot of back-and-forth and raised voices as they negotiated on dishes to share. Charmaine listened in silence as she scrolled through news items on her phone, a smile on her face. No matter how much they might argue, Bea’s family was the kind of family Charmaine longed to one day have for herself.
She read through the headlines. There were several articles about the fire — all of them were short and to the point. None of them mentioned any suspects. It seemed the police hadn’t yet released information about whether there was foul play involved. So, it could’ve been electrical—she hoped it was. If Sean had been responsible, she wasn’t sure she could live with the guilt of having brought him to the island.
He showed up fifteen minutes late in a strange mood. He slumped into the chair opposite Charmaine, but kept glancing over his shoulder at the door.
“Can we switch?” he asked.
She nodded. “Fine. Are you expecting company?”
“I hope not,” he replied as they shifted seats.
When he was facing the door, he relaxed more while they ordered their food. Charmaine felt warm and relaxed from the Mai Tai. She watched her brother fidget and itch, shift and swallow as he placed his order. He was frightened. She’d never seen him like this before.
“Do you have my money?”
She patted her handbag. “I need to talk to you first.”
Charmaine continued. “I’ll give you this money—it’s your portion of the inheritance. Well, some of it — enough to cover your debts. The rest, I will deposit monthly into your bank account if you promise to stay away from me forever. Think of it as a kind of restraining order. I pay you to keep your distance. You can’t return to Coral Island, and you can’t follow me anywhere else I choose to go. Otherwise, I stop the payments.”
“How did you manage that?”
She sighed. “I took the rest of the equity out of the house. But it’s in my name, and from now on, you have no claim to it. I’ve got a document here for you to sign, then I’ll give you the money and we can say goodbye.”
His frown was replaced by an easy smile. “Come on, sis. You don’t want to do that. You’ll miss me. I know you will.”
“Maybe someday, but for now, I need you gone. You say you didn’t have anything to do with the fire, but I’m not sure I believe you. I don’t want you around. You’re a troublemaker—you always have been. I don’t know why I never realised that growing up. I looked up to you, thought you were the best big brother I could ask for. But now I know better — you’ve never cared about anyone other than yourself.”
His smile faded. “That’s not nice.”
“Sorry, but you’ve pushed me to this. I didn’t want a confrontation, but here we are.”
“We’re still family, you and me. We’ve got no one else.”
“You’re right. I’ll try to be kind.”
She’d lived with him long enough to know how to calm his temper and distract him from whatever was bothering him. It didn’t always work, but she’d learned to deal with him from a young age. His tendency to fly into a rage had contributed to her proclivity for seeking solitude and quiet. She found it stressful to manage his shifting moods, but she could if she was forced to.
They ate together, chatting about old times. It was as though nothing had gone wrong between them. Sean was a chameleon — able to shift and adjust his mood based on what was going on around him or who he was speaking to. He’d gotten his way, and he no longer had any need to be angry at her.
