Page 213 of Kiss Heaven Goodbye

She was unconscious, but she was still breathing, although her skin was cold. Phil ran in and cradled her in his arms.

Alex heard his mobile ring. ‘Grace?’

‘Tell me what’s going on, Alex,’ she said.‘The George Town police have just called. The sea’s rough but they’re on their way and someone should be here in thirty minutes.’

He left the other two and ran for the door. The only place he wanted to be was by her side. ‘I’m coming,’ he panted as he ran through the rain. ‘I’m coming to get you.’

78

Sasha could only vaguely remember what had happened. There was a jumble of images on Angel Cay: Phil’s concerned face, some uniformed policemen, an air ambulance on the beach. Then she had woken up here, in a private room at Nassau’s Princess Margaret Hospital. Philip had filled in the gaps. Michael Marshall had been arrested by the real Royal Bahamian police and thrown into a real prison cell, as had his conspirators, although none of them were talking. Sasha shivered at the thought of how close she had come to death. It was actually lucky that Detective Carlton – or whoever he was – was a trained killer: the pressure he’d applied to her neck had been just enough to knock her out, rather than break her neck. Her head and throat were still throbbing and her entire body felt bruised from where she’d been dragged to Nelson’s house. But I’m alive, she thought, feeling emotion swell. That’s enough for me right now.

She heard movement in the doorway and looked up, hoping it would be Philip, but flinched as she saw Miles standing there. A memory of the last time they had met flashed before her – another hospital, another time she’d rather forget.

‘Hi, Sasha,’ he said quietly. He looked pale in the fluorescent light. He came and sat on the wooden chair beside her bed, his eyes cast down. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’ve felt better. What about you?’ she said, pointing at his bruised jaw.

He shrugged. ‘Listen, if there’s anything you need . . . The jet can take you anywhere you want, an extended holiday to recover, whatever. ’

‘Miles, look at me,’ she said.

Reluctantly, his eyes sli

d up to hers.

‘I don’t need anything from you. It’s enough that it’s over.’

She had expected to see the usual arrogant pout, but Miles looked different. Smaller somehow. She couldn’t believe the great Miles Ashford had learnt any humility after facing death – facing his past. But there was something she hadn’t seen before in his face. Vulnerability, perhaps?

‘You do know that we could all have been killed, don’t you, Miles?’

Miles shook his head slightly. ‘Michael didn’t want to see you dead. Only me. He wanted you, Alex and Grace to pay for it. He wanted you to suffer.’

‘Well I think we’ve all been doing enough of that for ourselves,’ said Sasha. ‘But Miles, you worked with the man for five years. How could you not have known?’

He glanced at the floor. ‘I’ve spent twenty years forgetting that night. I thought he was dead. I thought my father had got rid of the body.’

‘Is that why you hated each other?’ she asked softly.

His eyes flashed at her briefly, then he looked away again. ‘Is that what he told you?’

‘No,’ said Sasha. ‘We never talked about you.’

‘Well, it’s all in the past now. My father, Michael Marshall, the island, all of it.’

She looked at him. ‘Is it? We still left that boy for dead. Yes, it was twenty years ago, but you almost killed him that night.’

He stuck his chin out. ‘But I didn’t.’

‘Everything has a consequence, Miles.’

He blinked, longer than necessary, and when he opened his eyes, she thought she could see the shimmer of a tear.

‘I’m sorry, Sash.’

She looked at him and realised that she’d hated him for almost half her life. Hated him for his rejection of her on the island. Hated the power he had over the business by being their first backer. Hated his reaction after the death of Robert Ashford. And underpinning everything, she had hated him for the secret he had made Alex, Grace and herself carry for all these years. But of course the truth was they had carried it for themselves, not because Miles had made them. They had thought it would be easier to keep quiet, to let the memories fade, but they had been wrong. Dead wrong. Those memories had stayed with them, festering, spreading into their lives, colouring their decisions, changing the way they were. And now, at the other end of all that misery and heartbreak, Sasha found she drew no comfort from the ordeal Miles had just been through. It had always been her weakness; she wanted to please Miles. After all this time, she still wanted him to be happy. Not that he deserved it.

‘Actually, there’s one thing you can do for me, Miles.’