That was revenge.
Caleb
Really it was a lie behind a lie. Apart from my dad and Amelie, everyone thought we were pretending to be together, but we were only pretending to be pretending because what we were doing behind the very locked door of Mavis’ house was not what pretending entailed.
I steered the boat back towards the jetty at Thane’s boatyard, happy that she was sailing well, slowing it down some while I decided whether to turn back around and take her up the strait for a little longer. I was making good progress with the paper following on from the research project, my doctorate students were all on track, and I’d prepared for a series of lectures I’d ended up giving – which were going to be broadcast to other marine biology students, so I had no reason other than Zoey to rush back.
We’d hit December without any more sightings or contact from Peter Cash which was reassuring in some ways, but the threat of him turning up or doing something loomed over us like an unbalanced weight. I was due to leave just after New Year, six weeks spent at a research facility in Antarctica loomed, and for many reasons, Cash just one of them, I was reluctant to go.
This was the last research jaunt planned. The next three years were funded for studies in the Menai Strait and the Irish Sea, with just a couple of projects off the West Coast of Ireland – it wouldn’t be a hardship to go there as it was one of my favourite places and easy to get to, so this really was the last of the big trips. But I didn’t want to leave Zoey while Cash was still an unknown quantity. I didn’t want to leave Zoey full stop.
She was currently in the barn belonging to Finn, which had been converted into a temporary recording studio, complete with one of Roe’s high tech security systems. Josh had been staying for the last two weeks, writing songs and recording a couple of them while he was here, Zoey agreeing to do the vocals on them but no performances, although I wouldn’t be surprised if she rescinded on that in the future. He was on the island with his wife and two kids, a holiday let rented for the duration as there was no way he could stay with us, and he wanted this to be a holiday for his family anyway. Zoey was happy and enthused; she sang more when we were home and she laughed a lot.
I braced myself for her telling me she wanted to return to her previous life now that she’d found her stride, and part of me was dreading going away in case she wasn’t there when I returned.
I hadn’t shared that with her. I wasn’t sure how to.
I turned back around, heading out into the water again, needing some more time to think. We’d viewed a few more houses, none of which suited either of us because we apparently had the optimistic idea of all young house buyers that we would find the perfect house.
This did not exist.
However, the estate agent that drank in the Puffin Inn had let it slip that the big house that sat at the outcrop of Elderwood Sound was coming onto the market after Christmas. It was six bedroomed, very similar in style to my dad and Amelie’s, with floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the Strait. It had its own jetty and boathouse, and an two storey annex that’d been used for a granny-flat by the current owners. It was more than I could afford on my university salary by a long stretch, but I had the backing of my father and an inheritance from my great grandad, and I wasn’t too proud to have the help.
There was just the tricky situation that there would be another interested party.
Zoey.
It was the perfect house for her, big, private, the annex could be converted to a recording studio with space for someone to stay above it, if she was co-writing like she was with Josh.
I sailed round to Elderwood Sound, slowing down as I approached the house, tucked away behind a rocky outcrop, the jetty just about visible. It was a ten-minute walk to the Puffin Inn, and a five-minute boat ride to my dad’s. I had no desire or need to move away from him and Amelie; they were friends just as much as family.
There was an obvious solution to buying the house: Zoey and I could purchase it together.
I turned the boat around, full of confidence at speaking to her about it, knowing she’d taken the first step by inviting me into the bedroom that afternoon with champagne.
Thane was waiting for me on the jetty as I moored, his arms folded, his expression neutral.
“Everything okay?” I got the feeling it wasn’t.
“Do you ever check your phone?”
I shook my head. “As little as possible.” I checked my pockets. No sign of it. “I think I’ve left it in the car.”
“Dickhead.” He shook his head. “Peter Cash has been arrested. You can breathe. Zoey’s at my place if you want to see her.”
“Fucking hell. At fucking last. Where did they find him?” I docked the boat with muscle memory, my head completely elsewhere now.
“Cardiff. From what Roe’s said, they’ve picked him up on terrorism charges after they found evidence on the dark web. He’s not going to be a free man for an awful long time.” Thane’s grin was poetic.
“That doesn’t mean he won’t try to cause problems for Zoey.”
“It doesn’t, but it’s less likely.” He regarded me with something like interest. “She’s a massive star, Cay, there are always going to be people who want a piece of her. That's going to be something you have to live with.”
I nodded. “I know.”
He studied me again and I wondered what he was thinking. I’d known Thane since I’d moved to Puffin Bay. I’d gravitated towards him because of his work on boats and knowledge of the sea. When his twins were born, I’d been one of their first-choice babysitters, hanging out at the cottages they were restoring, helping Thane with the boats and the babies. He’d been like a big brother, never afraid to call me out on my shit, and his partner, Fleur, had always been the person I’d gone to with stuff I couldn’t really tell anyone else. The twins were now twelve, and Thane and Fleur had a son, an afterthought, so a whole new bundle of chaos to contend with. I still babysat, because no one was ever going to trust Flora and Seren alone in a house – their brother would be the responsible one.
“I’ll sort out your boat. You head to my place and see Zoey. I’m sure you’ve got a shit-ton to talk about.”
