Between Here and the Horizon(22)

“He has a gun?”

“Probably. Who knows? Let’s get out of here,” Caruthers said, kicking at Hinchliffe with his steel toe capped foot. And to me: “We left you the letter after all. No one’s second-guessing this one after all, it seems. We did have a read, though, just to make sure there was nothing incriminating inside.”

It didn’t seem smart to ask if they’d actually found anything. I just wanted them to leave. The longer they stood here, jabbering away, the less time I had to prepare myself for dealing with Connor and Amie. The two of them looked like they’d had enough of poking around in Ronan’s stuff, now, anyway.

“We’ll be on our way, Miss Lang. If you need anything, you just give us a call at the station, okay?” Hinchliffe tipped his hat to me in a very old fashioned way—was he hitting on me? Oh lord. That was all I needed.

“I’ll make sure to do that.”

Hinchliffe smiled from ear to ear. “Grand.”





******

“But where did he go?”

Despite all the commotion and the noise downstairs, Connor had still been asleep when I crept into his room. Amie was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, nightie pooled around her as she doggedly chewed on her breakfast. Most of the pancakes were gone, and she was looking a little green. Connor wasn’t too happy that Ronan was “out.” I didn’t know what else to tell him.

“I wanted him to show me the island today. He said I’d like it here, but I hate it. I hate it. I want to go home.” His heart-shaped face was turning purple with frustration. Almost on the verge of tears, he was fighting not to let them fall. I was in the same boat. I’d been stunned earlier. Shocked. Now that shock was wearing off, and I was on the very brink of breaking down. Ronan had killed himself, and he’d left me to pick up the pieces. How stupid of me last night, lying there in bed, mulling over the possibility that I might allow myself to consider getting close to him. Chances were right at that same moment in time he was tying the noose, lashing it over the ceiling fan in the office, standing on his desk, taking a look around, taking his last breaths. His children were sleeping. He just f*cking left them.

“It’s going to be okay, Connor,” I told the little boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I can show you the island. We’ll have a fun day. You, me and Amie. What do you say?” I wanted to get out of the house anyway. Needed to. I still couldn’t shake the image of Ronan hanging from the ceiling. It was torture, being trapped within the same building where he committed such a desperate act. Why the hell had he done it, anyway? The note he left on the door wasn’t giving up any clues. The letter addressed to me in his office probably did, but I was too freaked out to go in there and get it.

Connor shrugged away from my touch. “I don’t know you. I don’t like you. I don’t want to go anywhere until Dad gets back.”

“I don’t feel very well.” Amie had been quiet through this whole exchange. Now she was standing up, holding her belly, looking very queasy. The plate at her feet, the one I had stacked so high in my panic to get her out of the way, was empty. “I’m going to be sick,” she whispered.

“Okay, baby. It’s okay, come with me. Come on.” Damn it. I’d already made Connor angry and Amie sick, and we were still technically on day one of me caring for them. Stellar job, Ophelia. Gangbusters. Seriously. I hurried to the bathroom with Amie, barely getting her there before she vomited all over the tiled floor. She started crying, shivering, her little body shaking as she retched, bringing up a huge amount of food. Her belly must have been stretched way beyond capacity. What a terrible mother I would have made. I scooped her up and held her to me as she slowly began to settle, the shaking growing less and less until she was just lying still in my arms, looking up at me, strands of her dark hair plastered to her forehead. Her eyes were clear, the lightest of blues, so different to Ronan’s. “I feel much better now,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I made a mess.”

“That’s okay, sweetie. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have given you so much to eat, should I? What do you say, you hang out with your brother in his room again while I get this cleared up, and then we can maybe watch a movie or something, huh?” Amie, sweet little Amie, nodded, smiling. I already knew I was never going to get the same easy compliance from her brother. No point in even trying.

While I cleaned up the bathroom, I finally allowed myself to break down. I was in way over my head. On the other side of the country, on a tiny island where I didn’t know a soul, and my boss had just thrown me in at the deep end in the most profound, irreversible way. So unbelievable of him. So unkind. So f*cking cruel. Did he really expect me to just float around The Causeway with his two young children in tow, teaching them and playing with them and pretending like nothing had happened? How delusional could one person be?

The letter downstairs. It would shed more light on the matter. I couldn’t face it though. Just couldn’t. Instead, I wiped my eyes, finished mopping up the puke from the floor, and I went and got the kids.

“I don’t care what you want right now, Connor. You can not like me all you want, but your dad left me in charge, and that means you have to do what I say, okay? And we’re going to get dressed and get out of the house. All day. We’re going to find somewhere to eat lunch, and we’re going to explore down by the beach.”