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Authors: Anni Taylor

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BOOK: The Game You Played
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She spun the wheel around and then replaced the padlock. Dropping the key in her pocket, she guided me away. “Go and dry your face. And remember, not a word to Luke.”

“Wait, we can’t leave Tommy in there. There’s not enough air.”

“The room has lots of air. He’s just one little boy. Boats are not safe for little ones to be running around on. He’s a lot safer where he is.”

“His dad thinks it’s okay?”

“It was his idea. Now go get yourself tidied up. We’re almost there. Not long now.”

 

 

49.
                
LUKE

 

 

YESTERDAY

Wednesday afternoon

 

MY FIRST CLEAR VIEW OF
AB OVO
terrified me.

What the hell was I thinking? It was remote, wild,
empty
. Jagged, rocky hills rose beyond a white beach peppered with sticks and orange-hued rocks. Wind had blasted the trees bare along the shoreline, thrusting their branches up and backwards like women’s skirts.

I’d brought a woman and her child here, and now I was responsible for them.

Pria said she’d organised someone to bring supplies each week from the mainland. But what if something happened and they didn’t? We had no phones with us, no point of contact, except for the yacht. We’d somehow lost both our mobile phones in the rush to get ready, but I doubted they’d work here on the island anyway. I’d been carried along in Pria’s bubble on the way here. But that bubble had burst on those forbidding hills ahead.

Ab ovo
didn’t strike me as a place abounding in nature’s milk and honey. I went through a mental checklist of the fishing gear my father and I had on board. If things went badly wrong, at least we’d have fish. We had cooking facilities on the boat, lots of fire starters, and rope.

I calmed myself. I had backup. For the past few years, I’d operated to a plan. I needed that. The schedule. The planning. It was the way my father had done it. And he’d done all right for himself. Mum had always seemed happy and secure. I’d wanted that for Phoebe and Tommy. And now I had to provide it for Pria and Jessie.

Relaxing, I allowed myself to take in the beauty of the place. It was a wild, remote postcard view of a kind that few people would see in their lifetimes.

I sighted a spot to anchor the yacht and steered towards it.

Stepping up behind me, Pria put her arms around my waist, her face against my back. Jessie stood at the bow, her face more apprehensive than excited when she looked back at us.

“Land ho!” I called to Jessie, trying to cheer her.

Finally, she grinned, wind blowing her hair to and fro around her small face. I had to become like a father to this girl, but I didn’t know how. She reminded me of Phoebe at the same age. That wasn’t good. I much preferred she’d be like Pria and my mother. Open, with their emotions all on show. I could deal with displays of emotion. It was when those emotions were locked away I was at a loss.

Pria helped me anchor the yacht and get the blow-up boat ready to motor across to the island.

A family of brownish rabbits watched us take the first step on the shore.

Jessie ran to them straight away. I was relieved to see her do something childlike, instead of acting so adult as she did. The rabbits scattered among the orange-lichen-covered rocks.

Mentally, I added the rabbits to my list of food sources if everything went haywire.

Pria’s eyes were more alive than I’d ever seen them. She was extremely pretty with the sun on her pale hair. I grabbed her for a quick kiss while Jessie wasn’t looking. “Hey . . . we’re here.”

“Isn’t it incredible? Our own island.”

I stole another kiss. “Let’s go find the cabin.”

It wasn’t hard to find. Sharp steps led up from the beach to the house, half concealed behind trees. It would be murder taking all our stuff up those stairs. There was another way up, on the slope of a ridge.

The three of us dragged our bags up a grassy slope and along a barely visible track. The house, made of wood and stone, was larger than it’d looked from the photographs, with a clear view of the ocean. I could guess why the previous owners of the island hadn’t built at the highest point, even though it would have given them a 360-degree ocean view—the winds would probably have blasted them from all sides.

Inside, everything seemed clean and sturdy. It just needed a good airing. There were three bedrooms—one of those a loft, which Jessie immediately claimed. The furniture was comfortable, if old and dusty.

I whistled at the sight of the fireplace. Made of stone, it was a thing of beauty, soaring up to the high ceiling. “Gotta get a fire started.”

“Better check it for animals first.” Pria smiled. ‘Don’t want to scorch some possum’s butt.”

“I’ll head back to the yacht for the fire starters and matches. I’ll grab whatever else too.”

“No, I’ll go,” Pria told me. “You and Jess can get it stocked with wood.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, sure. I can see you’re excited to look around.” Tilting her head back, she looked up at the loft, where Jessie was investigating her new bedroom. “Jess, I want you to help Luke. And remember what we talked about, okay?”

Jessie glanced at me with tense eyes before nodding at her mother. I wondered if Jessie had been disobedient on the yacht or if she’d told her mother she didn’t like me. Either way, there was going to be a settling-in period. I wasn’t going to just fit in with Pria and Jessie overnight.

After Pria left the cabin, Jessie didn’t look at me much. I guessed the issue was that she was uncomfortable with me. I made a few attempts at conversation while we went out to collect firewood, but she kept giving me short answers and then busying herself, her back turned to me. I decided to give her some space.

Pria returned with a backpack and a large suitcase on wheels, which she took directly into the spare bedroom. She handed me the fire starters. “I brought across some boxes of food, too. They’re back on shore.”

“I’ll go grab them.” Glad to be relieved of the edgy atmosphere between Jessie and me, I quickly lit the fire and then left the cabin, jogging back down to the beach. I took three trips to lug the boxes up the hill.

Flames roared in the fireplace. A low, steady hum came from the generator—Pria had got it cranked up for the fridge and lights. She poured us both a glass of red wine. “To us and
Ab ovo
.”

“Cheers.” I grinned, clinking my glass against hers. “Where’s Jess?”

“She’s gone out to poke around.”

“On her own?”

Pria smiled widely. “There’s nothing that can hurt her here. It’s a sanctuary.” With a hand on my shoulder, she kissed me deeply and then tugged me into the bedroom. She had fresh sheets on the bed already.

We made love, breathing in the heady, enticing scent of wood smoke. I could make an easy guess that most of Pria’s barely controlled enthusiasm and energy during sex came from the excitement of her first day here at the island.

Afterwards, I stepped out onto the verandah, stretching. I imagined long days of sitting out here just taking in the view, like my dad on the porch at his cabin. I could hear Pria humming inside, putting things away in the kitchen cupboards.

I spotted Jessie down near the rocks, tossing a ball around. I’d have to put up a basketball hoop for her. It was lucky she was such a bookworm. I could see a young kid getting bored here after a few days.

Jessie rolled the ball along the sand, the ball disappearing behind a rock. She seemed to be gesturing to the ball, willing it to come back to her. She was either playing make-believe games, or there was a rabbit or something she thought she could train. Good luck with that one.

The ball rolled back. I straightened, mystified.

There must be another kid on the island. Pria was wrong that no one was living here—unless there were day trippers. But why would day trippers come here? There wasn’t anything special to see here.

Thoughts of drug smugglers flashed through my mind.

Get away from civilisation for a minute, and all crazy thoughts come flooding in.

Jessie rolled the ball a bit short.

The other kid came running out. A very young child.

A felt a twinge of disappointment for Jessie. The kid was maybe not even three years old. Rugged up in a knit hat and thick jacket.

The kid’s parents must be close by. Surely no one would let a kid this age wander an island on its own?

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I wandered down for the meet and greet of the family. If they did live here, I wanted to know who they were. I was starting to feel a bit territorial already. This was
my
island. Even if by association.

Jessie turned to me as I stepped onto the sand, her expression guarded, almost . . .
scared
.

I’d understood before when she was uncomfortable around me. But what was it that I’d done or said that had made her scared of me?

The child seemed scared of me, too, ducking behind the rock and peeking out.

There was no one up the broad stretch of beach in either direction. Okay, maybe they did just let their kids wander here. Who knows, maybe there’s a family on the other side of the island, raising up their brood like wild things, pushing them from the nest as soon as they could walk. After you’d had four or five kids, maybe you stopped helicoptering them.

For Jess’s sake, at least, I hoped there was a brood.

Jessie rolled the ball to him again.

Forgetting his shyness, he ran and tried to kick it, missing and then trying again.

Something about the way he moved reminded me of Tommy. But he was more confident than Tommy—better control of his body. Similar face, too, only his hair was much blonder, almost white.

He got it wrong when his kick connected with the ball, sending it in my direction instead of Jessie’s. He ran my way and then stopped dead still, staring with wide eyes.

I couldn’t look away.
His eyes.
Eyes just like Tommy’s. Just like Phoebe’s.

He pointed at me, the way Tommy used to point at everything.

“Daddy,” he said.

His word tore at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m not—”

The wind collected his hair and blew it back from his face.

I saw him properly.

I saw Tommy.

His full, rounded cheeks, stung pink by the cold. His large, expressive eyes and dark eyelashes. His tiny, naturally pouting mouth.

Sinking to my knees, I knelt heavily on the sand. I didn’t know anything right now except that this boy was my son.

He stepped towards me, an uncertain look on his face now. Raising his small chin, he looked beyond me.

I turned. Pria had stepped from the cottage.

Tommy bolted straight for her.

Pria scooped him up, hugging him.

I loped across the sand, my mind caught in a storm.

A nervous smile appeared on her face. “Luke, I can finally tell you!” Her smile faltered at the edges.

Words refused to come. I held out my arms, demanding Tommy. She delivered him to me, and I held him up, staring into his face—the face I hadn’t seen for so long.

Becoming shy, he dropped his forehead down to mine. I cradled his small body, and he nestled in tight against my shoulder, coyly tapping my neck with his finger.

“How? How is it that he’s here?” Inside, my mind was roaring, but my voice pushed out low and broken.

“We brought him to the island, Luke.”

“We what?”

“He was on the yacht. He slept the whole way. There’s a lot I need to tell you. Let’s go for a walk.” She glanced towards Jessie’s still figure on the beach. “Jessie will be fine.”

“No. Pria, you need to tell me now. Because I have all kinds of things running through my head. And none of them are good.”

Tears made her eyes wet and shining. “I don’t even know how to tell you. But you have to know. I found Tommy, just a day ago.”

“What? You
found
him? Where?
Where?

“Please, walk with me, and I’ll tell you everything.”

I could scarcely breathe, as if my lungs had grown rigid.

We walked along the top of the hill, higher and higher. Until Jessie was a tiny figure on the beach, sitting and watching the ocean.

Tommy burrowed into me, clinging. He fell asleep the way he always used to do, in an instant. I had the irrational urge to shake him, force him to wake and open his eyes and assure me that he was alive.

Pria stopped and turned her tearstained face to me. “This is what I know. I’ve been noticing Phoebe coming in and out of a certain house on our street for a few weeks now. Sometimes with a strange man. Sometimes on her own. At first, I just thought she was having an affair. But then, after the fourth letter, I was terrified, knowing what she’d done. I decided to look for myself. Luke, you know the house. Number 29.”


That’s
where you found Tommy?”

“Yes. He was there. She had him locked in one of the rooms. There were toys. And some food and water. But . . .” Her voice caught in her throat. “It was cold, and he wasn’t wearing much. Just a little summer top and a nappy. He was dirty, and the room itself just stank of mildew.”


Fuck.
She was keeping him there? Like that?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Why didn’t you call the—?”

BOOK: The Game You Played
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