Refuge (13 page)

                ‘Hello, Lucas,’ she smiled. ‘I thought I’d find you here.’

                ‘Cass!’ he said. ‘Well – it is a small island and there can’t be many places to go to of an evening, I guess.’

                ‘You’d be surprised,’ she said. ‘I know plenty. Did you go to the lime kilns?’

                ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘I saw them advertised in the B&B. I thought I might try them tomorrow.’

                ‘I could come with you?’ she said. ‘I think it’s best to have a guide, don’t you?’

                ‘I don’t know,’ replied Lucas. ‘It depends on what there is to see there.’

                ‘A local person would be the best to explain that to you, in my opinion,’ laughed Cass. She paused for a moment. ‘Oh, really, Lucas, do I have to spell it out to you?’ Lucas knew she was flirting with him; he fingered his mobile unconsciously.

‘Ahhhh,’ she said. ‘I understand. What’s she called?’

                ‘What’s who called?’ asked Lucas.

                ‘Your girlfriend. Look, come on outside with me. It’s too noisy in here.’ She drew her eyebrows together and pulled a face. ‘I can’t stand it!’ Lucas looked across at his friends. Drew had by now been served and was pushing his way over to the table with the rest of the lads. He looked up and caught Lucas’ eye. He grinned and winked and lined the two pints up in front of him. He sat down with his back pointedly to Lucas and leaned over to speak to Jared. Lucas knew he had effectively been dismissed.

                ‘OK,’ he said, half-reluctantly. Cass laughed and took his hand. She pulled him gently out of the pub and they walked out onto the street. A gust of wind bit into him and he shivered.

                ‘I live over there,’ Cass said, pointing to a stone cottage set a little way apart from the village. ‘Well, I don’t live there permanently. I travel a lot. My sister and I rented it so we’d have a base to come back to. It’s nice. It’s not quite a home; but it’s not quite a holiday home either. We’re left to our own devices mainly. We don’t bother the Islanders and they don’t bother us.’

                ‘I guess it must be hard to fit in here,’ Lucas said, more for the sake of conversation than anything else.

                ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘As I say, we don’t bother the people who live here. If they started prying into our lives, well, maybe we would reconsider.’ She laughed again. ‘They think my sister is a bit odd. That’s the truth of it. I couldn’t tell her that though. She’d never speak to me again.’

                ‘What do you mean by odd?’ asked Lucas. He shivered again as another gust of wind blew down the street.

Cass laughed and rubbed his bare arm. ‘No coat. Silly boy. I can tell you’re a southerner. With Jenny, I think it’s just because people don’t understand her. She’s very...creative. I think that’s part of it. She’s hard work at times. I try not to get involved. Or she would lose her temper with me and seriously, it’s not worth it!’ She looked over to the cottage again. ‘I’d take you there tonight, but she’s in a funny mood. I want to enjoy some time with you first. So tell me about your girlfriend then.’

                ‘My girlfriend?’ asked Lucas. The statement caught him off his guard.

                ‘You were fiddling with your mobile phone,’ said Cass. ‘That means you were expecting a call or a text. And you fiddled with it when I asked you to the lime kilns. Regardless, you’ll get nothing here. You might as well leave it in the hotel. No signal – anywhere. But still, you’re undecided about what to do. What’s your girlfriend called?’

                ‘Laura,’ said Lucas. ‘I mean, she
was
my girlfriend, but I don’t think she is any more.’ He smiled wryly.

Cass watched him, her eyes bright in the semi-darkness. ‘What’s so funny?’ she asked, a slight edge creeping into her voice. ‘Why is it funny that she’s not your girlfriend anymore?’

                ‘It’s not! It’s not funny at all,’ said Lucas. ‘Sorry.’

                ‘What did you do to upset her?’ asked Cass. She had folded her arms.

                ‘It was a mistake – that’s all,’ he replied. Why on earth was he justifying himself to this girl? The memory of that night out a couple of months ago still left him cold. It was one of those cheap trebles nights at his local – very dangerous. He had bumped into Irina, the stunningly beautiful Russian girl from the espresso bar. She’d come up to him and they’d been talking and one thing led to another. They’d bought each other different vodkas to try and ended up staggering back to his place. It was only one night. He wasn’t even sure whether anything had happened; he woke up and she’d gone. Two weeks later he had been mortified to find her crying outside his house.

                ‘I ees pregnant,’ she had said. ‘Eet is yours.’ Laura was with him at the time. She screamed and yelled and, quite rightly, told him it was over.

                Too late, he had discovered that Irina had tried the same trick on two of his other friends; she eventually admitted the father was her married boss. Irina had disappeared shortly after that. Someone said they’d seen her working in a restaurant on the other side of town, her bump just beginning to show beneath her apron. Simple maths told Lucas – and his friends – it wasn’t possible for them to be anything to do with the baby. Laura, although accepting this, still wouldn’t forgive him for what might or might not have happened that night. Lucas heard on the grapevine that Laura was even more disgusted with Irina for drinking when she knew she was pregnant. Laura was a trainee nurse and she knew all the risks. Lucas had vaguely hoped this would put him in a better light; Irina’s actions were clearly the act of a desperate young girl. But Laura didn’t see it like that.

He didn’t want to tell this Cass his life story though. He shrugged. ‘It’s ancient history. It’s well over,’ he said.

                ‘But it was your fault?’ pressed Cass.

                ‘I suppose so,’ said Lucas.

Cass suddenly laughed. ‘Well that’s good. You’ve at least admitted responsibility. And it’s over with you and this...Laura,’ she said the girl’s name with such distaste Lucas was momentarily shocked. ‘So...’ Suddenly, Cass was at his side. She ran her fingers up his bare arm again and he felt the hairs stand up on end. Her voice was almost a purr as she continued speaking. ‘The coast is clear for me then?’

                Lucas stared at her. ‘If you put it like that...’ he began.

Cass tilted her head up and kissed him quickly. ‘Excellent,’ she replied. She opened her mouth to speak and a voice, seemingly carried on the wind, called her name.

                ‘Cass...’

Cass spun around and made an annoyed noise in her throat. ‘Jenny,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’ Lucas peered through the ever-darkening evening and saw a tall, slim figure appear out of a pathway between two houses. The figure walked into a pool of light cast by a streetlamp and Lucas caught his breath.
Bloody Hell, if that’s the sister, the family genes must be good
, he thought.

The girl stared at him and smiled shyly. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I see you’ve met Cass.’ She walked towards Lucas and held her hand out in a funny, formal sort of way. She had a curtain of dark hair, parted at the side just above her ear. A clip or slide of some description clumped it together on the opposite side to her parting where it tumbled down past her shoulders. The whole effect was of a dishevelled beauty that had just woken up. She blinked huge eyes at Lucas and smiled slowly. ‘I’m Jenny.’

                ‘Hello,’ he said, holding his hand out to her. She took it firmly, which surprised him somewhat. She looked like such a fragile thing.

                ‘We live over there.’ Jenny pointed at the cottage.

                ‘I know, Cass has already told me,’ replied Lucas.

‘Jenny, we should probably go home,’ interrupted Cass. ‘It’s late.’

‘I don’t mind,’ said Jenny. She never took her eyes off Lucas. ‘I think I like you,’ she said to him. She laughed. ‘What’s he called, Cass?’

‘This is Lucas,’ replied Cass. ‘I was just getting to know him better.’

‘Oh? Well now, I think I’d like to get to know him as well,’ she said.

Cass took hold of her sister’s shoulders and physically moved her away from Lucas. ‘Not tonight,’ said Cass. She turned to Lucas. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll take her home. The offer still stands for tomorrow, by the way. I’ll be at the kilns about five. I’ll see you there? Oh- what I said about the phone. She’ll not text you. No signal. You might as well just leave it behind tomorrow.’ She pushed her sister back towards the alleyway, none too gently. ‘Goodnight. Sorry again.’

‘No worries,’ said Lucas and he watched the girls disappear into the night. Well now, it seemed true what Cass had told him. Jenny was indeed ‘rather odd’. But she was also fascinating, in a strange sort of way. He wouldn’t mind getting to know both of them a little better. After all - he fingered his phone again - Laura was off the scene for good now, wasn’t she? There was still a little pang when he thought of her though. But it was, he had to admit, getting easier.

‘You all right, mate?’ shouted Drew’s voice from the pub doorway. He’d obviously popped out for a cigarette - he claimed he was just a social smoker. ‘Where’s she gone? You coming back in or what?’

‘Yeah. Just coming,’ shouted Lucas. He looked into the darkness towards the cottage and thought he could make out two black shadows gliding through the darkened fields. The girls, on their way home. Cass was gorgeous, no doubt about it, but that Jenny, she was something else.

‘Two of them?’ cried Drew. ‘Bloody Hell, mate! How do you do it?’

‘Just one of them,’ replied Lucas. But he’d be hard-pressed to decide which one, if it came down to it.

1887

In the long, hot June of 1887, the streets of Britain were party to Golden Jubilee Celebrations for Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, Empress of India.  The other major news story was the murder of Miriam Angel in Batty Street, London. It was astonishing how, in the space of one week, the emotions in the City could change from joy to horror as the details of the young woman’s death were publicised; six months pregnant and apparently being forced to imbibe nitric acid by a gentleman lodger was not a favourable way to die.

                Veva sat in the morning room flicking through the
Penny Illustrated Paper
and smiling to herself. ‘We should try that,’ she murmured, ‘that would be an excellent way to dispose of a person.’ Her beautiful face hardened. ‘Although, it does prove that men are still of the opinion that women exist only to be used.’ She received no response to her comment and looked up. She frowned. Cassandra was staring out of the window again. Veva could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was desperate to be outside, amongst the crowds. The girls had acquired a small townhouse just off Fenchurch Street. It was perfect for them; much better, Veva had suggested, than it had been for the previous occupant. He had just disappeared one day, she told a curious neighbour. He had been their Uncle. It was terrible for the whole family, although the girls had been granted permission to use the house whilst they waited for the rest of their family to arrive. The sisters had been passing through Surrey, you see, so it wasn’t too far for them to travel. Shortly after that, the neighbour had disappeared too.

From Fenchurch Street, the girls could slip through Aldgate and lose themselves in the grimy, poverty-stricken East End. They could also head west into the more pleasant parts of the City. In addition, the house was not far away from the train station, and there were often people passing through that area of London. It was terribly easy for travellers, they realised, to disappear in such a seething capital. Veva didn’t miss her old life, but it was clear that Cassandra was not as settled.

‘I want to go out tonight,’ said Cassandra. ‘It’s been too long.’

‘Sweetheart, we went out last week,’ said Veva.

‘No, we did not go out. We went to the river and met that couple.’

Veva shrugged. ‘I suspected that he was married. Why else would he be under the bridge with her? We did the right thing.’