As soon as she said Pete’s name the smile dropped from Sam’s face and she instantly wished she’d never said a word.
‘Let’s not have this conversation and spoil the evening.’ Sam slid back his chair and walked to the water’s edge. Jimmy was soon by his side and Sam bent down and threw a stick into the water.
Verity quietly exhaled. She could kick herself. She didn’t mean to upset Sam or the evening. Knowing she’d overstepped the mark, she picked up both of their glasses and walked to the water’s edge. She handed one glass to Sam.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘It’s difficult to talk about.’
‘It’s okay, I shouldn’t have pushed the conversation. I suppose I’m just finding it difficult to understand the issue now that I’ve spent some time in your company and in Pete’s. You both seem like decent people to me. Whatever is going on, wouldn’t a simple conversation between you both be the way forward? You could talk it out, agree to disagree, and as for the barriers on the island, I’m no rocket scientist but even I could come up with a simple solution that would satisfy both sides.’
‘Don’t you think I’ve tried with Pete? I’ve tried to have that conversation on more than one occasion but…’
‘But? What can be that bad?’
Sam looked her straight in the eyes. ‘I think Pete was responsible for my grandfather’s death and he’s the only one that knows the truth.’
Verity let the long pause that followed Sam’s shocking declaration hang in the air for as long as she dared.
‘Why do you think that?’
‘Sorry, Verity, I just need a little space. Can you give me a minute?’
She nodded and watched as Sam turned and headed towards the gate, Jimmy close on his heels as they disappeared into the kitchen. Standing on the sand, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Should she follow him or not? He said he needed space but to her it looked like he was battling some sort of trauma. Not wanting to see him upset, she decided to follow, but as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, she heard the front door shut behind him. She could kick herself. He’d gone to all this trouble to spend some time with her and now she’d driven him away. Making her way back to the cove, Verity cleared away the dishes and washed them up before heading back outside. After pouring herself some more wine she sat back, thinking about the death of Joe Wilson. She Googled him from her phone and browsed through a selection of images. One caught her eye as she immediately recognised the makeshift stage in the corner of The Olde Ship Inn, in exactly the same spot where Sam had performed only last night. The next photo showed the group standing on a jetty, a crowd stretching all along Blue Water Bay. Verity knew it was Puffin Island from the lighthouse towering in the distance. Scrolling further down she was shocked to read the next headline.
Multi-talented Joe Wilson, singer-songwriter, loses his life in the same spot he performed only hours earlier to a packed-out bay.
There was a photo of Joe with his hands clutching a microphone, looking very rock ’n’ roll with a guitar slung across his body. Verity read the article and felt her eyes brimming with tears as she learned the way his life was taken.
‘Playing detective?’
Sam was back and standing behind her, looking down at her phone screen.
‘You’re back.’
‘I’m sorry. I just needed a breather and I used the time to pick up another bottle.’ He held up the wine.
‘You don’t need to be sorry. I honestly wasn’t prying as such. I was just trying to understand why you were so upset. Sam, this is awful, such a tragic accident.’
‘It’s okay, it’s not a secret; it’s there in black and white.’
‘I don’t recognise that pier, is it no longer there?’
Sam sat back down opposite her. ‘The pier was demolished after there had been numerous deaths. Never mind the causeway putting lives at risk, that pier was the worst danger on the island.’
‘How?’ asked Verity, not quite understanding.
‘The pier was on stilts and tourists loved to jump off it, thinking it was safe, despite numerous signs telling them not to enter the water under the pier. The rip currents that flow through there are well known to everyone on the island, as they can quickly drag people and debris away from the shallows and out into the deeper water, but tourists didn’t always read the safety warnings.’
‘But your grandfather would know about the rip currents, surely?’
‘He did because he was also one of the volunteer coastguards.’
‘So how was he dragged out to sea?’
‘According to the coastguard logbook he was on duty that night along with…’
‘Pete?’
