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‘It’s definitely got me intrigued,’ Connor declared, his voice booming around the electric Smart car that Cristy had borrowed from David’s mother that morning. She hadn’t found the volume control yet, but at least she’d managed to hit the right button when Connor’s name had flashed across the screen letting her know he was calling.

‘It’s different,’ he continued. ‘Usually this kind of story is all about someone who’s gone missing never to be seen again. Here we have the victim, so to speak, we just need to find out who lost her.’

‘Or gave her away, or whatever,’ Jodi added. Connor’s wife always took a keen interest in their podcasts and Cristy always welcomed her input.

‘Presuming the chapters we’ve seen so far aren’t fiction,’ Connor said, ‘and I don’t reckon they are, not with the names being the same and dates tying in … I’m seeing them as more of a … confession?’

‘Purging of conscience?’ Jodi suggested.

‘It’s hard to say when there’s so little to go on,’ Cristy said, taking a careful right turn onto a heavily wooded road where almost nothing was visible through the dense fog that had fallen overnight.

She’d scanned and emailed the latest chapter first thing this morning while David was still in bed sleeping off a few too many glasses toasting in the New Year. With so many friends and family at the party and him being the host, he’d found himself in such demand that Cristy had barely seen him after midnight. She’d lost track of Juliette too, not that she’d been keeping an eye out for her, though she’d noticed her when she’d appeared on the dance floor – with David. How closely and well they’d moved together, and how intimate they’d seemed, until David had caught her eye and winked. Anyway, she was determined not to start exercising herself over his past, it was clearly what the woman wanted and Cristy was damned if she was going to allow herself to be dragged into childish games. She just hoped Juliette had slept well on the bunk in Laurent’s room while David had crashed out in his own bed next to Cristy.

‘Are you still there?’ Connor’s voice was slightly broken as he asked.

‘Sorry, yes, just not a great reception. Anyway, I’m clearly not getting off this island today, there are no flights or ferries probably until tomorrow, or Wednesday, so I’m on my way to meet Mia Winters. Unsurprisingly, Sadie doesn’t want me to reveal why I’m there, so I’m just a new friend who’s visiting the Gaudions, while actually getting a take on how batty, or not, the old lady is. That’s Anna’s word, by the way. Sadie insists she’s quite lucid when she wants to be and uses her battiness to avoid things she doesn’t want to do, or discuss.’

‘Sadie’s got to have realized that if it turns out she was abducted her aunt’s going to have some hard questions to answer,’ Jodi pointed out. ‘Is that really what she wants?’

‘All I can tell you,’ Cristy replied, ‘is that she believes there’s a lot more to her story than we’ve seen so far, and I don’t think we can argue with that. So let’s try not to jump to obvious conclusions before we have a fuller picture, and whether we get that through more pages, or hard research, remains to be seen.’

‘Do you have any recording equipment with you?’

‘Only my phone, but I’m not about to go covert on the old lady.’

‘I wasn’t meaning that. You could just lay down a description of the house, grounds, that part of the island, et cetera.’

‘If I could see it, I would,’ she retorted wryly, as she plunged into a deeper morass of fog. ‘I don’t think I should be out in this, to be honest. There’s no one else on the roads … If I can find the place without going over a cliff it’ll be a miracle.’

‘Maybe turn back,’ Jodi suggested. ‘It’s not as if it’s urgent. Wait for the weather to clear and go then?’

‘It’s not far now, and Sadie’s waiting for me. With any luck she might have found more pages by the time I get there.’

‘Call us again when you have news from the aunt, or Sadie,’ Connor said. ‘Meantime I’m going to start working on what we already have.’

‘It’s New Year’s Day!’ Cristy cried, and immediately gulped as she almost hit a roadside rock. ‘I really should ring off,’ she said, ‘I need to concentrate on where I’m going.’

As the call ended, the sudden silence that descended felt oddly disorientating, leaving her with a disturbing sense of isolation in this tiny car that was inching along a barely visible highway with only the satnav to guide her through the virtually invisible mass of fallen cloud.

Keeping the speed right down she followed the map on the screen, mounting a hill, dipping around a bend and climbing another before a disembodied voice suddenly bellowed, ‘You have reached your destination.’

Certain she was in the middle of nowhere Cristy came to a halt, praying that nothing approached from behind, or in front, to slam her and the little Smart car into the great beyond. She looked around. It wasn’t until a space briefly opened in the drifting fog that she saw the towering gates to Villa des Roches, the Winters family estate.

Relieved, and amazed she’d actually got here, she turned gingerly into the welcome layby and decided to call Sadie rather than try to find a bell to gain entry. However, the gates were already starting to swing slowly open, telling her that someone must be watching on video.

She’d moved forward only a few yards when Sadie appeared out of the mist and gestured for her to open the passenger door. ‘That’s where Jasper and I live,’ she said, jumping in. ‘The lodge, not that you can see much of it in this. It’s a bit clearer down at the house, or it was when I left half an hour ago. Are you OK? I’m surprised you came.’

‘So am I,’ Cristy muttered, and quickly swung the car to the right as she mounted a low, grassy bank.

‘It’s more or less straight now,’ Sadie told her, ‘and it’s all downhill.’

‘So the house itself is on the coast?’ Cristy asked, eyes glued to the tarmacked drive.

‘Not exactly, it kind of overhangs, but for some reason the fog never seems quite as bad in our cove as it does elsewhere. Great party last night, wasn’t it?’

Cristy nodded. ‘What time did you leave?’

‘Around two, I think. Jasper’s not in the best shape this morning, so I left him in bed while I went to check on Mia. I had a bit more of a dig around in Lottie’s rooms while I was there, but nothing new, I’m afraid. What did you make of the pages I gave you last night?’

‘I’ve just spoken to my partner, Connor, and he’s as intrigued by what we’ve seen so far as I am. So you need to fill me in on everything you’ve done to try to find out where you came from.’

With a sigh, Sadie said, ‘Not very much, is the answer, I’m afraid. I mean, the obvious stuff, like DNA and Google searches, but when I have so little to go on … Ancestry-dot-com can’t help without the names of my mother and father – I put in Martin and Vanessa Winters, but that was never going anywhere without dates and places of birth. And anyway, we already know that my aunts didn’t have a brother. Sorry, it’s sounding a bit hopeless, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t let’s give up yet,’ Cristy advised, and felt a slight unravelling of tension as a truly spectacular Arts-and-Crafts-style mansion, with towers and turrets, whitewashed walls and red-brick chimneys, emerged from the haze like a fairy tale castle. ‘It’s impressive,’ she murmured, coming to a stop outside a wide, arched front door with enormous pots of topiary either side and a church-like stained-glass window above.

‘It’s insane, really,’ Sadie declared, ‘but it’s home and I think you’ll like it inside. They’ve always kept it up together and there’s plenty of space for entertaining. Lottie loved to throw parties. Come on, the door’s unlocked so we can go straight in.’

The hexagonal entrance hall turned out to be every bit as grand as Cristy had expected, and was, she suspected, most likely flooded with light on a good day from the ornate ceiling lanterns high overhead. The walls were painted a creamy white, the floor was pale oak and the furnishings, so many of them, were colourfully and tastefully in keeping with the distinctive turn-of-twentieth-century period.

‘Lottie’s rooms are over there,’ Sadie announced, pointing towards a set of oak-panelled double doors, both closed, with exquisite fan-shaped wall sconces either side, ‘but come and meet Mia first.’ As she trotted down three steps to lead the way through another set of panelled doors, Cristy followed, admiring everything they passed, from the sumptuous William Morris wall coverings and Klimt-style paintings (maybe they were originals?) to the art-deco cabinetry and a fascinating collection of vases and lamps.

Eventually they were in a kitchen-cum-living area, which, though large, was much simpler in décor than what she’d seen so far. A superb and vast hand-carved cast-iron fireplace with a log fire burning in the grate was between two sumptuous cream-coloured sofas, while a round eight-seater table and matching chairs filled a circular breakfast area where tall windows offered uninterrupted views of a mist-shrouded sea. The kitchen itself was almost discreet with teal-coloured units and a wraparound bar.

‘Ah, ha, you must be Sadie’s new friend.’ Mia Winters entered the room from another door, all smiles and quirky elegance in a beige-mix tartan pinafore and cream rollneck sweater. She was in good shape for seventy, no doubt about that. Her chin was an arresting feature, seeming a little large for her face, while her abundant, expertly coloured hair was carefully flicked up at the ends, and the dark amber jewels in her ears matched the colour of her eyes. ‘I’m Mia,’ she said, offering a slender hand, ‘and I’m very pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ Cristy said warmly. ‘You have a beautiful home.’

Mia smiled. ‘Thank you. Please, won’t you sit down?’

‘I’ll make coffee,’ Sadie said and scooted round to the kitchen area. ‘How do you take yours, Cristy?’

‘Black, no sugar, thanks,’ Cristy replied.

‘A girl after my own heart,’ Mia smiled, touching a hand to her meagre chest. ‘You’re a guest of the Gaudions, I hear. And didn’t you make a podcast about the girls’ mother? David’s dead wife?’

As Cristy blinked in surprise, Sadie exclaimed, ‘How do you know that? I never told you.’

Mia smiled craftily. ‘I don’t rely on you for all my information,’ she replied. To Cristy she added, ‘It was an addictive series. I binged the whole thing in two sittings. What an incredible job you did, and how utterly marvellous that you and David have now become close. I do believe the hand of fate was at work there … Well, it is in everything, of course, but sometimes it reveals itself more clearly than at other times.’

Wondering if Mia believed that fate had washed a near-two-year-old girl up on their beach almost twenty-four years ago, Cristy said, ‘I’m glad you enjoyed the series.’

‘You’re a dark horse, Mia,’ Sadie scolded.

‘Oh, that was Lottie, not me,’ Mia corrected. ‘My sister had so many secrets,’ she told Cristy. ‘She was probably a spy. I always used to think so, but she’d never admit to it. If I’m right, then I’m sure she was a jolly good one. Lottie was good at a lot of things, wasn’t she, Sadie?’

‘The best,’ Sadie confirmed, bringing cups and a coffee pot to the table, ‘but one thing’s for certain, she was absolutely useless at keeping her paperwork in order.’

Mia’s laugh was slightly too high. ‘That’s true,’ she assured Cristy, and turning to a long-case grandfather clock next to the fireplace, she blinked in surprise, as if it had struck. ‘Is that the time already?’ she asked.

Since the hands were showing twenty-past eight, it had either stopped, or was three hours slow – or maybe it had sped off to the evening.

As though her aunt hadn’t spoken, Sadie finished pouring and handed a cup to Cristy as she said, ‘I was telling Mia about last night’s party earlier. The fireworks were sensational, weren’t they?’

‘I’ve always loved fireworks,’ Mia confided. ‘We had them all the time at our parties, when Lottie was alive. She didn’t care for them so much, but she knew I did so they were a must.’

‘Actually, it’s you who doesn’t really like them,’ Sadie reminded her. ‘Lottie was a fiend for them.’

Mia nodded agreeably. ‘That’s true. And you take after her in that way. Did you have sparklers? You’ve always loved them, especially on birthday cakes. She’s never grown out of it,’ she told Cristy. ‘We don’t with some things, do we? Are you staying long in Guernsey?’

‘Just until the fog clears,’ Cristy replied, picking up her coffee.

‘Oh, that’s a shame.’ Mia smiled and took a sip from her delicate cup.

Not entirely sure what to say next, Cristy willed Sadie to come to the rescue for it was clear already that David was right about trying to pin Mia down. She wasn’t going to stay on subject if she didn’t want to, and even when she did there was no knowing how much of what she might say was true.

‘May I ask where you live, Cristy?’ Mia said, sounding interested.

‘Bristol,’ Cristy replied, glad to be on safe territory. ‘Close to the harbourside.’

‘Oh, very nice. Not that I’ve ever been there, but it sounds idyllic.’

Amused by the overstatement, Cristy dared to say, chattily, ‘How long have you lived in this house?’

Mia frowned as she thought – and thought.

Cristy waited, knowing it was going to be easy to check the land registry, or Guernsey’s equivalent, so she was really very interested to hear Mia’s answer.

‘I think it must be about twenty-three years by now,’ she said, looking to Sadie for confirmation. Receiving it, she added, ‘It wasn’t like this when we moved in. In fact it was quite run-down, but thanks to Lottie’s vision and some very talented builders we’ve come to what you see now.’

‘Are you actually from Guernsey?’ Cristy ventured.

Mia gave a nostalgic little sigh. ‘No, Lottie and I hail from London. Kensington, to be exact.’ After a pause she added, ‘We kept the house after we left – it was Mummy and Daddy’s of course, we inherited it after they passed – but then we decided to sell. We weren’t going back, so there seemed little point in keeping it. It was really quite large. Do you have parents, Cristy?’

Admiring how astutely she was running the conversation, Cristy said, ‘Not any more, sadly.’

Mia’s tone was heartfelt as she said, ‘I’m sorry to hear that. It’s hard when they go, isn’t it?’

Mindful of Sadie’s birth parents, Cristy tried to think of a way to turn matters in that direction without seeming obvious, but Mia was speaking again. ‘Lottie and I were in our thirties when it happened to us. Such a shock, losing them both the way we did. There one day, gone the next.’

‘How did they die?’ Cristy asked politely.

Mia frowned, as though not entirely sure, or maybe she’d belatedly realized she was heading towards a place she didn’t want to be. ‘Are you a reader, Cristy?’ she asked brightly.

With a quick glance at Sadie, Cristy said, ‘Yes, I am. Are you?’

‘Oh yes. It’s one of my favourite pastimes. Do you happen to have read any of my short stories? I haven’t had any published for a long time, but quite a few were, back in the day.’

‘It was Lottie who wrote,’ Sadie reminded her.

Mia laughed. ‘That’s what we used to tell everyone, but really it was me. I wrote them all. I just didn’t want the fuss and bother of finding an agent and editor, and all the business that goes with getting them into the public’s hands. Or the clutches of reviewers.’ She gave a shudder of distaste. ‘Heaven save us from them, is what I always say.’

Feeling the sands shifting again, Cristy said carefully, ‘Do you still write?’

‘Oh no. I gave it up a long time ago. I just read now, and listen to the occasional podcast.’ She twinkled charmingly and put her coffee cup down. ‘It’s been lovely talking to you, Cristy. Thank you for coming, but I have a lot to be getting on with today so I shall leave Sadie to show you around. She’s very good at doing tours. Are you interested in the Arts-and-Crafts style?’

‘Uh, yes, I find it quite fascinating,’ Cristy assured her, wondering if Mia now thought it was the reason she’d come, to view the house.

Mia was on her feet. ‘Do feel free to take photographs if you’d like to,’ she said, ‘but we’d rather they didn’t show up in unsuitable magazines, if you don’t mind. Sadie will give you a list of those we’ve approved.’ She checked the grandfather clock again, but said no more as she left by the door she’d come in through.

With a laugh, Sadie said, ‘And there you have my aunt Mia. Mad as a box of frogs, or is that just what she wants us to think?’

Wryly, Cristy said, ‘It’s a tricky one. But tell me, do you think she actually did write the stories?’

‘No, I know she didn’t, but that’s what I mean about her seeming to mix herself up with Lottie. She does it all the time. Tomorrow she’ll be the spy and Lottie will acquire some other sort of mystery, or hang-up, or bizarre little hobby. Anyway, I’m happy to give you a tour if you’d like one, or we can just take a look at Lottie’s suite. You’ll see for yourself what I’m up against.’

A few minutes later, Cristy was surveying first one, then another, and another of Lottie’s spacious rooms, all opening off one another, each with high ceilings and elaborate French doors leading onto terraces that hung over the sea, way below. The endless clutter of boxes, books, filing cases, ornate chests, sports equipment, odd musical instruments, exercise paraphernalia and so much else, all stacked against walls, on desks, under tables and every other available surface, was almost overwhelming.

‘It could take years to go through all this,’ she remarked to Sadie.

Sadie didn’t disagree. ‘What’s worse,’ she said, ‘is that nothing is in order. The pages I gave you last night? I found them by chance, clipped to the back of some notes that had no relevance to them at all, or not that I could find.’

Cristy checked her phone as it buzzed with a text. David wanting to know where she was.

‘Do you have anyone who can help you with this?’ she asked, looking around again and feeling increasingly daunted by the seemingly impossible task.

‘Anna,’ Sadie replied. ‘And Jasper when he has time.’

Cristy nodded thoughtfully, and turned back to the entrance hall where they found Mia waiting and holding up Cristy’s coat.

‘You left it in the sitting room,’ she said, handing it over. ‘I thought you’d be needing it.’

Cristy smiled at the gentle irony in her tone, while feeling slightly wrongfooted again. Was she being told it was time to leave?

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Your sister has certainly collected a lot of things over the years.’

Mia waved a dismissive hand. ‘She was such a hoarder. Had all sorts shipped in from all over with never a single idea of what she was going to do with it once it got here. But you know, it’s not only her stuff she kept, mine is in there too … Journals and notebooks, travelogues, endless photographs, and of course all her short stories.’

So they were Lottie’s now.

‘I’m sure she wrote six a day sometimes,’ Mia ran on. ‘They just came tumbling out of her in an unstoppable flow and I think I’ve probably read every one. They’re very good, but of course I’m biased. Shame so many were lost when we reset her computers, but she never wanted to keep them anyway.’ She turned away and disappeared back into the depths of the house.

Cristy turned to Sadie and smiled as the young woman shrugged.

‘I’ll keep going,’ Sadie promised, ‘and let you know as soon as I find anything else – presuming I do.’

‘It could drive us all nuts if you don’t,’ Cristy told her, ‘but you do realize, of course, that as soon as we go live with the story your aunt is going to know about it. And considering what serious ramifications there could be for her she’ll almost certainly try to stop us.’

Sadie pulled a face as she nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ she admitted, ‘and I really don’t want to hurt her, or make her think I’m in any way unhappy or ungrateful for all she and Lottie have given me, because I’m neither of those things. But like I said before, I really do want to find out who I am. It’s like I need to. I hope you can understand that.’

Looking into her troubled eyes, Cristy said, ‘Of course.’ Who wouldn’t understand that, she was thinking as she put on her coat and turned to the front door. But did Sadie really have a full grasp on what it could do to her aunt?

*

A few minutes later, Cristy was back in the welcome layby outside the villa’s grounds , calling David.

‘Hi, where are you?’ he asked when she got through to him. ‘Mum said you borrowed the car to go see Sadie and Mia. Please tell me you’re still in one piece.’

‘I am and I’m just heading back.’

‘The conditions are serious out there,’ he said gravely. ‘You shouldn’t have gone in the first place. Would you like me to come get you?’

‘I think I can manage, thanks. How are you feeling?’

‘You mean apart from the sore head? Like I’m in need of three pints of water and seeing you. Are you driving at the moment?’

‘No, I’ve stopped to make this call.’

‘Good. So tell me, how did you get on with Mia?’

‘She’s much like you described, but I’d say a lot smarter than she wants anyone to think.’

‘You could be right about that. Tell me more when you get here. Mum’s throwing together a late lunch … Will you be joining us?’

‘That’s certainly my intention. Who’s still there?’

‘Just about everyone who stayed last night. The fog’s too thick to go anywhere, although it apparently didn’t stop you.’

‘I’m suitably contrite,’ she assured him, ‘and I’ll also be extremely glad when I get there, but the satnav has served me well so far. No reason why it should let me down now. If I get into any difficulties I’ll call.’

*

By the time Cristy walked into the Gaudion family’s wonderfully warm kitchen to be assailed by mouthwatering aromas of bacon and hot toast, at least two dozen bodies were scattered about the place either drinking coffee, sipping water or, in a few hardy cases, getting stuck into Bloody Marys.

Realizing no one had noticed her yet, she removed her coat and watched Anna and Rosie whizzing about with plates of hot food while Juliette, looking very much at home, slid a delicious-looking frittata from an oven and Cynthia sautéed a pan full of rosti. She looked around for David and found him stacking extra wood on the fire while chatting with his brother who was laughing at whatever they were saying. She didn’t want to tear her eyes away, simply wanted to carry on looking at David, taking in his hands, his back, the length of his legs as he stood. She thought of the way he made love, the power and gentleness of him, his taste and smell …

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she seemed to be caught up in some sort of surreal moment, as she wondered how she’d come to be here, at the heart of someone else’s family, when her own was far away doing other things.

She watched David turn around, prompted by Astrid, and couldn’t be sure of how pleased or not he was to see her. He was frowning and his expression didn’t lighten as he picked his way through everyone to come and greet her.

‘What’s wrong?’ he said quietly. ‘Has something happened?’

‘No,’ she said in surprise, ‘everything’s fine. I just …’ What was going on in her head? Why had she felt that unsettling moment of detachment? Breaking into a smile, she said, ‘Looks like the party continues.’

Glancing round to survey the gathering he said, ‘I have a feeling it won’t stop until at least tomorrow. How are the roads out there?’

As she answered she could feel Juliette’s eyes on them. ‘Still not very passable,’ she admitted, ‘but I don’t think anyone here is having a problem with being fogged in.’

‘Apart from you?’ he countered.

Her eyes went to his. ‘I’m happy to be with you,’ she told him, ‘but I have to admit I’ll be glad to see the children.’

Seeming to accept that, he said, ‘I’d like to hear more about your first meeting with Mia, but come and get something to eat first.’

Aware that he hadn’t kissed her, or even touched her, she followed him over to the kitchen and again ignored Juliette’s scrutiny, preferring instead to react to the way Rosie lit up when she saw her.

‘Happy New Year’s Day,’ Rosie cried, sticking out her bottom as she leaned in for an air-kiss. ‘I’ve got a secret,’ she whispered, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. ‘You’re not allowed to tell anyone.’

‘We already know,’ David teased.

Cristy laughed, then realized he was looking at Juliette.

Juliette’s smile was playful as she said, ‘I don’t think you do.’

‘Don’t be so sure,’ he murmured.

Wondering how innocent banter with Rosie had suddenly become a flirtation between David and Juliette, Cristy took the plate of food Cynthia was offering, not entirely sure how hungry she was now, and searched around for somewhere to sit.

‘Over here,’ Astrid, David’s sister-in-law, called out, and elbowed her husband off one of the sofas onto the floor. ‘Come sit by the fire and get warm.’

Grateful for the invite, Cristy picked her way across the room, laughing and joking with those she passed. Settling herself in next to Astrid, she said, ‘Is there vodka in that tomato juice?’

‘There actually is,’ Astrid confirmed, holding up her glass to examine it. ‘Why don’t you join me? It’s very good.’

Considering it, Cristy smiled up at Anna as she brought over some hot buttered toast.

‘How did you get on with Mia?’ Anna asked. ‘Whacky or what?’

‘She’s definitely her own person,’ Cristy said dryly. ‘Apparently she binged on the last series of Hindsight .’

Anna blinked in amazement. ‘No way! You mean the one about our family?’

Cristy nodded and took a mouthful of cauli hash brown.

‘I had no idea she even knew what a podcast was,’ Anna exclaimed.

‘I don’t think Sadie did either, so seems best not to make too many assumptions about Mia Winters. In fact, now I’ve had time to consider it, I can’t help wondering if her admission was a little warning shot across Sadie’s bows, letting her know that she’s perfectly aware of why I was invited there.’

As Anna’s eyes rounded, Astrid laughed and said, ‘Never underestimate those Winters women, is my advice. They’ve always been as canny as they come and twice as shrewd, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Lottie’s playing you from the grave. It’s the kind of thing she’d have a lot of fun with.’

Amused by that, Cristy said, ‘Does that mean you don’t believe in the story Sadie’s unearthed?’

Astrid shrugged. ‘From what Anna’s told me about it, and what I knew of Lottie, I’d say it probably contains elements of truth, but exactly what those elements are …’

Unable not to notice David leaving the room with Juliette, Cristy forced herself to listen as Anna said, ‘If you’re thinking Lottie set this up, remember she died suddenly, so there was no time …’

‘But you don’t know when she did it,’ Astrid pointed out. ‘Listen, all I’m saying is I have a feeling there’s going to be a lot more to this story than you might think.’

‘As if we don’t already think that,’ Anna muttered.

Astrid said to Cristy, ‘It’s interesting, certainly, that the Winters sisters chose to come here twenty-odd years ago. It can’t have been long after Sadie was found on the beach – if we’re presuming that part of the story is real …’

When she didn’t continue, Cristy prompted her to finish her thought.

Astrid smiled and her voice was a little slurred as she said, ‘Speaking as a member of the Gaudion family … We know how easy it is to keep secrets on this island, don’t we? Your last podcast proves that. In fact, there’s nowhere better, given that the whole place is practically built on them. Nullas quaestiones, nihil mentitur , or something like that.’

‘What does that mean?’ Anna queried.

‘Ask no questions, told no lies,’ Cristy provided.

‘It’s the unofficial motto in these parts,’ Astrid explained. ‘So where better for two wealthy women to relocate when planning to pass off a small child as their own?’

Refraining from saying that they’d already figured that part of it out, Cristy watched David come back into the kitchen, grab a bottle of wine and disappear again.

Distracted by her phone, she saw it was a family What’sApp from both her children who she hadn’t yet spoken to this year. ‘I need to take this,’ she told Astrid, and after asking Hayley and Aiden to give her a moment she headed through to the summer room.

Once comfortably seated with the noise of the party barely audible through the closed door, she broke into a smile to see Hayley’s and Aiden’s cherished faces on the screen – although neither, she realized, was looking particularly happy.

‘How are you?’ she asked. ‘Isn’t it a bit early in LA for you to be calling now?’ Even as she said the words her heart gave a jolt of unease. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked before either of them could speak. ‘You’re OK, are you?’

‘We’re fine,’ Hayley assured her, ‘but you might need to be sitting down for this.’

‘I already am,’ Cristy told her.

White-faced and clearly not celebrating, Hayley said, ‘Marley’s had the baby.’

Cristy’s insides turned cold. Marley, the unpredictable, irrational child bride who’d stolen Cristy’s husband and wrecked her family, and who’d turned out to be quite unlike anyone Cristy had ever known, had given birth to Matthew’s child. Hayley and Aiden now had a half-brother or -sister.

Given her children’s expressions, Cristy’s first thought was that there was something wrong with the newborn, until Aiden said, ‘Dad’s not allowed to see it.’

‘Not allowed ?’ Cristy echoed incredulously.

‘It’s a boy,’ Hayley continued. ‘Two weeks early, but he’s OK and so is Marley, apart from the brain hiccup that’s making her keep Dad out of the room. He’s going nuts, shouting at people, demanding his rights, and then he got into a fight with a security guard.’

‘Someone called the cops,’ Aiden ran on, ‘and he’s been arrested.’

‘ Arrested! ’ Cristy choked, certain she couldn’t have heard right.

Both children nodded.

‘Where is he now?’ she asked.

‘In some cell, I guess,’ Aiden answered miserably. ‘Scott, Marley’s dad, is talking to a lawyer to try and get him out, but, Mum, we really don’t want to be here any more.’

‘I’ve checked flights,’ Hayley said, before Cristy could respond, ‘and there’s availability on one tomorrow night – well, tonight I guess, it’s three in the morning here. It’s just massively expensive so we were hoping …’

‘We feel really bad bailing on Dad,’ Aiden cut in, ‘but we thought we’d be one less thing for him to worry about if we weren’t here any more. And you know we didn’t really want to come anyway.’

It was true, they hadn’t wanted to go, but Matthew had been so hurt by their reluctance to spend some time with him in LA over the holidays that Cristy had ended up talking them into going for New Year. And now, this.

Picturing them at Scott Dukes’s Laurel Canyon home, worrying about their dad, desperate to get away, feeling guilty about it and yet checking flights anyway, she said, ‘Use the emergency credit card, and ask Scott to arrange a ride to the airport.’

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Hayley said. ‘Sorry to put this on you now …’

‘Don’t worry about me. Just get yourselves home safely.’

A few minutes later Cristy was back in the kitchen – still no sign of David or Juliette – but Cynthia seemed to notice right away that all was not well with her.

‘Has something happened?’ Cynthia asked, drawing Cristy aside so no one could overhear.

Cristy gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Marley’s had the baby; Matthew’s been arrested and the children are flying home tonight.’

Cynthia regarded her steadily. ‘Maybe we need to sit down?’ she suggested.

Following her back into the summer room Cristy felt a moment’s overwhelming – even unsteadying – affection for the woman who reminded her so much of her own mother.

‘So which part of it are you the most worried about?’ Cynthia asked, as they took a chair each, overlooking the gardens.

Cristy smiled ruefully. ‘I guess, for the moment, I’m pretty focused on getting home in time to meet Hayley and Aiden off the plane. But they’ll be OK. Hayley has an emergency credit card so she can pay for the bus or a train to Bristol and from there they’ll be able to get to my flat.’

‘So that’s sorted. What about Matthew? How on earth did he get himself arrested?’

Such a good question – although Cristy wasn’t having much trouble imagining the chaos he’d created. ‘Apparently he got into a dust-up with a security guard at the hospital,’ she said, ‘because Marley won’t let him see the baby.’ Thinking of the tiny, innocent little creature at the heart of the madness, she became aware of a deep, churning sensation inside. It was dark and worrying and reminded her of how she’d felt when Aiden had first told her Marley was pregnant – as if a silent, raging tide was rising up to demolish what was left of her marriage. ‘It’s a boy,’ she added. ‘I don’t know his name.’

‘Why won’t she let Matthew see him?’

Cristy shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea. The last I heard Marley wanted Matthew to bring the child back to the UK when it was born so I could help him bring it up. Obviously that was never going to happen, apart from in Marley’s head. But apparently it’s all changed now and Matthew, who, as far as I knew, was dreading being a dad again, is in a prison cell for thumping someone who tried to get in the way of him seeing his son.’

Cynthia sighed as she pondered this bizarre set of events. ‘I don’t suppose any of this has been easy for him,’ she commented. ‘From all I’ve heard he now knows what a mistake he made in letting you go …’

‘It’s too late for that,’ Cristy interrupted, not wanting to hear it. ‘We have to deal with where we are now, except it actually isn’t my problem, is it? Or it wouldn’t be if he weren’t my children’s father, and I just know he’ll be on the phone to me as soon as he’s able to get to one.’

‘Expecting what?’

‘I’ve no idea. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m going to fly over there to try and talk some sense into his crazy wife.’ Cristy’s eyes went to Cynthia’s and after a beat she found herself almost wanting to laugh. It was all so messed up and farcical, and actually it was comical, provided Matthew got out of prison, of course – and as long as it didn’t start impinging on her life the way he no doubt expected it to. But what about the press? Someone was bound to get hold of it sooner or later. With Marley being the daughter of a movie and theatre legend, and a successful actor in her own right, and Matthew’s much lesser fame as a news anchor (OK not in the States but he’d already won a lot of notoriety in the UK for destroying his marriage over a child superstar in the first place), this was a story that was going to excite the tabloids, that was for sure.

‘Why don’t you let David make some calls?’ Cynthia suggested. ‘You know he has contacts all over, even in LA, and he’ll arrange for a car to pick the children up at Heathrow.’

‘No, I don’t want to put him to the trouble …’ Cristy said, perhaps a little too quickly.

‘It won’t be any trouble. You just need to let us have the flight details … And I’m guessing you’ll be wanting to leave in the morning?’

Wishing she could go right now, Cristy said, ‘If there’s a flight, yes. I just hope the fog will have lifted by then or I’ll be stranded. Maybe for days. Oh God, what a mess.’

‘It’s going to be fine,’ Cynthia assured her. ‘When does Hayley return to uni?’

‘I think it’s the fifteenth, but she was planning to fly to Edinburgh on the seventh to meet up with her boyfriend. Aiden starts back to school on the eighth so I definitely have to be there for that, or knowing him he’ll find something “more interesting” to do.’

Cynthia laughed. Having got to know Aiden a little over Christmas, she, like everyone else, had taken quite a shine to him. ‘I’m sure we’ll get you off this island in time to keep him on the right path,’ she said. ‘Now, let’s go and track down David so we can—’

‘Actually, I’ll catch up with him later,’ Cristy interrupted, really not keen to find him if he was with Juliette – actually not even wanting to think about that. ‘Right now I should ring Connor and Jodi to let them know the children will soon be on their way. I’m sure they’ll insist on collecting them, or at least on putting them up until I can get back to Bristol.’

*

As it turned out Cristy was able to get a flight the next day. She left early, before anyone else was up, and after leaving a note for David, assuring him she’d be in touch as soon as she got home. Thanks for a wonderful Christmas and New Year , she added. Sorry I was asleep when you came up last night; and I didn’t want to wake you this morning. Your mum will tell you about Matthew and the children. Never a dull moment with them.

She’d struggled with how to end it, as she’d wondered, not for the first time these past twenty-four hours, how she really felt about him. The situation with Juliette was bothering her a lot. Having been cheated on once, by Matthew, she never wanted to go through anything like it again and if there was still something between David and his ex … Maybe she, Cristy, was getting too involved, too soon, taking things way too seriously. And when it came right down to it, did she actually want their relationship to continue? How could it when his life was here on this island and hers elsewhere?