High Island Blues (22 page)

When the Mays had gone to bed he stood for a moment in the lobby. Mary Ann appeared from the bar. Her face was grey but she was as chic and well groomed as always. Her little black shoes tapped hurriedly across the tiled floor. He thought she had been waiting for him.

‘I wondered if we could talk,’ she said.

‘Of course.’ He was exhausted but she looked troubled. He could not ask her to wait until the morning. Always a soft touch for a pretty face, Molly would say.

‘Come into my apartment.’

She led him down a corridor, past the kitchen, to a room at the back of the house, the room he had seen from the car-park the evening before. It was long and narrow, almost empty of furniture. There were wooden floors, a white sofa, a low, light wood table. Bookshelves covered one wall.

‘A drink?’ she asked. ‘Scotch?’

‘Absolutely.’ After an evening of abstinence with the Mays he realized how much he needed a drink.

There must have been a small kitchen because she went out through a swing door and came back with glasses filled with ice, a bottle.

‘What do you want to tell me?’ he asked. He thought he knew.

She twisted the glass in her hand.

‘It’s probably not important,’ she said. ‘The storm brought it all back. A memory of something that happened twenty years ago. I’m not sure how accurate it is. It seems more like a dream after all this time.’

It was not what he had been expecting. He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

‘It was when Laurie and the boys came to stay, one night at the end of their visit. The noise of the wind in the trees reminded me because there’d been a storm that day too. It had brought the electricity cables down and there were no lights in the house. I think I was scared for some reason. Perhaps I still needed a lamp in my room to get me to sleep and I woke up in the dark. I went out on to the veranda. It had stopped raining and everything was wet, shining. There must have been a moon. The whole house was quiet apart from the water dripping from the roof and the trees.

‘You remember it very well.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can see it, you know, in flashes, like one of those jumpy early movies.’

‘What happened?’

‘I heard noises coming from the front room, the room where the Adamsons are staying now. There was a door then from the room right out on to the veranda and it was open a crack. It wasn’t much of a room and my mother had put the boys in there. Sort of camping out. One of them had a mattress on the floor. Then they must have lit some candles because suddenly there was light from the window and when I looked I could see their faces. They were all gathered round one candle. Like kids trying to spook each other with ghost stories.’

‘And it was just the boys who were there?’

‘No, Laurie too. I remember her most. She had her hair loose and all frizzed out around her head. She was the centre of attention. The others were playing up to her. Trying to impress. Competitive. Even at my age I realized that.’

She sipped from her glass, returned to her memories.

‘Like I said I thought they were telling ghost stories. They had that intense look. I’d been away at girl scout camp during the Easter vacation and that’s how the girls had looked around the camp fire when they were trying to scare each other.’

‘But they weren’t telling stories?’

She shook her head. ‘ It was some sort of game. Laurie was in charge of it. You could tell it was her idea.’

‘What sort of game?’

She seemed to sense disapproval in his voice, became suddenly a modern sophisticated woman instead of a twelve-year-old child.

‘Not what you think. No undressing or groping in the dark. Nothing to shock or deprave.’

‘It’s not only nudity which can shock or deprave,’ he said lightly.

‘It was a truth game,’ she said. ‘Laurie was asking the questions.’

‘Of course.’

‘Perhaps it had been going on for a while, before I went out on to the porch, before they lit the candles.’

‘But you heard some of it?’

She nodded. ‘Laurie asked them how many women they’d made love to. That had me hooked. I was twelve years old. I mean sex was exciting, forbidden, never talked about. I couldn’t move. Oliver went first. One too many, he said. They all laughed. I didn’t understand the joke. Rob told a story. I think it was supposed to be funny but I was too innocent to know what it was all about.’

‘And Mick?’

‘He said he never had. Made it with a woman. As if it were a terrible admission, you know. As if it were the worst thing in the world.’

‘What did Laurie say to that?’

‘“Well, I think that’s real sweet.” I thought she was teasing him but he took her seriously. He was sort of grateful because she didn’t laugh out loud.’

‘Did the boys laugh out loud?’

‘Not really. They couldn’t after what Laurie had said.’

‘Was that it? Was that the only question?’

She shook her head.

‘Laurie asked what was the wickedest thing they’d ever done. She said that evil was far more interesting than sex. I thought that was so profound! She looked like a witch with her wild hair caught in the candle light, staring at each of them in turn, waiting for them to speak. I can’t remember what Oliver said. Something flip, I expect.’

‘But you remember the others?’

‘Rob said he’d cheated at a Birdathon, though I don’t think he called it that. Anyway, it was the sort of competition we plan to hold here on the peninsula on Sunday. Laurie told him that didn’t count. It was like cheating at an exam. No one really got hurt. He said it felt wicked enough to him. A stringer was the lowest of the low. I’m sure that was the word he used. Stringer. Does that mean a cheat?’

George nodded. ‘What did Mick say?’

‘That once when he was drunk he’d stolen his father’s car. Rob said that a father like his deserved to have his car stolen. If he wasn’t such a mean bastard he’d have bought Mick a decent car of his own. “ He didn’t deserve to have it smashed up!” Mick said. They laughed but I thought at the time it must have been a bad accident because Mick looked all shaken just thinking about it.’

‘Was that the end of the game?’

‘No. The boys wouldn’t leave it like that. Why should Laurie ask all the questions? Rob said it was her turn to answer. Which of the three of them did she like the best. She smiled, teasing, then said she liked them all. Rob said that was a cop out. It wouldn’t do.

‘“Well then,” she said in a kind of drawl, stringing it out, making them wait for an answer, “ it all depends what you mean, boys. Do you mean for a night, or a few days, or to spend the rest of my life with?”

‘“The rest of your life,” Rob said.

‘“That’s easy then,” she said. “It would have to be Michael”.’

‘What was the others’ reaction to that?’

‘I don’t know. Not now, thinking about it. Then I was a kid. There was a lot of joking and I took it at face value. But I guess she must have been serious.’

‘Yes.’ George stared into the whisky imagining the scene Mary Ann described. Four young people sitting in the dark, intensely connected through friendship and lust and jealousy. Had any of them realized that Laurie was making a real choice?

‘Did the evening break up then?’ he asked.

‘No. Laurie asked what they all wanted to have achieved in twenty years’ time. Rob said he wanted still to be travelling. Definitely
not
to have settled down. And I suppose he’s achieved that. I admire him for not having given in.

‘Oliver said: “A houseful of kids.” There was a lot of laughing at that. It was another in-joke I didn’t understand.

‘Laurie said it was quite simple. She wanted to be rich. Oliver, sneered at her a bit for that, said something like: “ I never took you for a bread-head Laurie.” She answered very seriously: “ Well, Oliver, you’ve never been poor.”’

‘And Mick? Did he say what he wanted out of the next twenty years?’

‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘He said he wanted to be married to Laurie. The others groaned at that as if it was some kind of sick flattery. But I could tell that he was still playing the truth game. He really meant it.’ She looked at George to see if he believed her.

‘Then someone, Laurie I think. It would have been Laurie, said they would have to get together in twenty years’ time to see how much they had achieved towards their goals. Here at the Oaklands Hotel, she said. And perhaps then the weather would be better. Perhaps then there would be a fall and they’d see all the warblers they wanted. The weather had been fine and clear until the storm and the birds hadn’t stayed. They must have agreed, though I don’t remember that. They must have agreed because they all came.’

‘What happened next?’ George asked, prompting her because she seemed lost in her daydream.

‘They saw me. I guess I must have got too close to the door. Laurie suddenly shouted: “ Jesus Christ there’s a ghost on the veranda.” And they brought me in and asked me how long I’d been out there. I didn’t like to admit that I’d been snooping so I said just a few minutes, just long enough to hear them plan to come back to Oaklands. Rob told me he hoped I’d still be living here then and that I could be part of the reunion too. I said that was what I hoped would happen. In twenty years’ time I wanted the Oaklands Hotel to be real smart and me to be here, running it. Then the lights came on suddenly. The room just looked a mess. It wasn’t magic any more. I went to bed and by the time I’d got up in the morning they’d all gone. Laurie too.’

‘Was that true?’ George asked. ‘Was that what you wanted even then?’

He knew the answer already. He thought that was why she remembered the evening so clearly. It wasn’t only the strange light, and the storm and her fascination with adult conversation. She saw it as the beginning of her life’s work. It was as important as that to her.

‘Yes. You know I think it was. Even then.’ She spoke casually, trying to make light of it.

‘And I think you would have done anything to get what you wanted.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Didn’t Laurie believe that she was entitled to a share of the house?’

‘Is that what she told you?’

He shook his head.

‘She didn’t believe that. She pretended she did though.’

‘Your grandmother and Laurie’s were sisters weren’t they? Twins?’

‘They were sisters but they weren’t twins, though they looked as alike as peas in a pod as they grew older. My grandmother was the elder and Oaklands was left to her. Neither of the old ladies would have wanted Laurie’s father to have it. Laurie knew that all along. She knew she had no real claim to the place and she didn’t want to know until the hotel became successful. Like she said in the truth game she was always motivated by money. She was jealous that I was doing so well.’

‘What did she do?’

‘She started dropping in with Michael. Just to be neighbourly she said. She didn’t come near the place when Mom was sick and I could have used the help. There were six old men here then, most of the rooms shut up and I was cleaning the bathrooms myself. She didn’t show an interest until I did the place up and she could see I was making a go of it. At first she just dropped hints. About how my grandmother would never have been able to keep the Oaklands Hotel going herself. About how the two sisters were partners. Not formal perhaps. Never written down. But they’d never think it would have to be. They’d think that the family would always stick together, always look after each other. That’s what she’d say.’

Mary Ann swirled the remaining whisky in the bottom of her glass.

‘It was her father’s fault,’ she said. ‘ He started it. According to Mom he was always going on about how the place should have been his. When he was sober enough to speak. Laurie took the idea from him.’

‘That’s why your mother didn’t mix with that side of the family?’

She nodded.

‘Things moved beyond hints, didn’t they?’

She looked at him, weighing up what he knew, too tired perhaps to come to a judgement.

‘I was at the Brownscombe offices this morning,’ he said. ‘I found a letter you’d sent to Laurie confirming the contract for the wildlife refuge.’

She continued to stare at him, then she drained the last of her whisky.

‘I made a mistake,’ she said. ‘I talked to Laurie and Mick about my idea for the new refuge. They were in the business. I thought they could give me some advice. As they wanted to be neighbourly. Laurie began pushing straight away for Brownscombe Associates to be given the contract for surveying and planning it. I told her I hadn’t reached that stage. She got mad, said that if I couldn’t be reasonable she’d have to consult a lawyer about making a formal claim on the hotel. I was scared. I didn’t think she’d win but if I had to defend that sort of action it could cripple me financially.’

‘So you gave them the contract.’

‘Yeah!’ She got up and poured more whisky into both glasses. ‘I was a coward. I wasn’t prepared to take the risk. And as I said the other day she had some pretty good ideas. But then I thought. That’s it. I’m never going to allow her to put pressure on me again. I put it in writing on the morning Michael died.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me all this when I asked you before?’

‘Why do you think? What Laurie did amounted to blackmail. Suddenly her husband, a partner in the business and so also implicated in the blackmail, is found murdered. At the very least I’d be a suspect and hassled. I can’t afford that kind of distraction. I need to run this hotel.’

‘And how did the meeting go with Laurie last week?’

‘Do you know, it’s ironic. We got on better than we had for some years. She said that she hoped there were no hard feelings and I must understand her wanting to be involved in the place. As if the threats were a bluff or a joke. Of course I could understand. Look, Mr Palmer-Jones, if you think I had a motive for killing the man you’re wrong. We ended up on good terms. I didn’t think it would be so bad working with her. And I’d never had any quarrel with Mick.’

He left her then. He hoped she would sleep, that she would realize the hotel would function without her until morning. He walked through the windy night to his room.