The Island(19)

A grandfather clock was ticking impossibly slow seconds.

No one seemed to know what was going to happen next.

The temperature was unbearable.

Heather was squeezing Tom’s hand on one side and Olivia’s hand on the other. Normally Olivia didn’t let Heather touch her. At least Tom seemed to be doing a little better. He had lost that terrible pallor, and his eyes were back to normal.

“What time does Danny get back?” Jacko asked Matt in a low voice.

“Won’t be back until after six,” Matt said.

“Right…” Jacko said.

The stairs creaked.

Creaked again.

Everyone looked up.

Heather saw a pair of feet at the top of the landing. The feet took a step down and became a pair of ankles and then calves. A powerful woman in pink slippers and a pink dress was making her way down the stairs with the assistance of a stick on one side and a little girl on the other. She was in her seventies, pale, with an eye patch over her left eye. She was wearing a bright copper-colored wig. There was something terrifying about her that had nothing to do with the way she looked. Heather had massaged plenty of older clients, many of whom were physically imposing. This was something different. This woman changed the gravity well of a room. Electrified it. Heather could tell that everyone in here was afraid of her, and that made Heather afraid of her too.

She came down the staircase slowly.

Very slowly.

Two kids scrambled up from a rocking chair near the fire. Matt turned the chair so it was facing the room, not the fireplace. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, the woman wheezed heavily and then continued her progress across the living room like an old pope arriving at an inquisition.

Matt helped the woman into the rocking chair and when he sat down again, the dog hid under his legs.

A noise like a broken lawn-mower engine escaped from the woman’s mouth, and a child brought her a glass of a clear liquid that she knocked back with satisfaction.

This, evidently, was Ma.

“They’re the Americans?” Ma said in a rattle that seemed to come from the wrong side of the grave.

“Yeah. Americans,” Matt said.

“I’ve known a few Yanks. Terry said they were all right in Vietnam. Ones I met were OK. What does he do for a living?” Ma asked.

“He’s a doctor. Dr. Thomas Baxter. He looks after people’s knees. He’s got ID. It checks out,” Matt said.

“How much money in the wallet?”

“Four hundred bucks.”

“And how much did you scumbags get already?” Ma said.

“Nine hundred,” Matt replied sheepishly.

“That’s not much. Not much for a life. What does she do?”

“Massage therapist, she says,” Jacko said.

“Jesus. One step up from whore,” Ma said. “When does Danny get back?”

“Not until after six, maybe seven,” Matt said.

“Who else did you bastards let onto my island today?” Ma said, scowling at Ivan.

“It wasn’t my fault, Ma. Jacko and Matt—” Ivan protested.

“Enough! I’m surprised at you, Matthew,” Ma said, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, Ma.”

“You let another vehicle on, didn’t you?” Ma said.

“Yes, Ma, couple of Krauts,” Ivan said.

“And where are they now?”

“Probably waiting at the ferry,” Ivan said.

“Well, somebody bloody find them and bring them here!” Ma growled.

Jacko nodded at a kid, who ran outside.

“Look, I’m very sorry about this,” Tom said. “She came right out of nowhere. I honked the horn and the woman didn’t hear me—”

“She’s deaf!” one of the children said.

“Deaf?” Tom said.

“Yeah, Ellen was deaf,” Ma said.

“I couldn’t help it. I went straight into the back of her. It all happened so fast. I mean, obviously we will cooperate fully with the authorities.”

“What will you do, Dr. Baxter?” Jacko asked, sneering through Tom’s title.

“It’s, um, Tom. Um, look, I’ll admit full responsibility. And—and I’m sure my insurance company will pay out accordingly,” Tom said.

“Insurance companies don’t always pay out, do they?” Ma said.

“They will. I’m admitting fault.”

“Where are you going to do this admitting of fault?” Ma asked.

“Here, and of course back in Melbourne. I’ll make sure I cooperate fully with the police investigation and even postpone our flight back if necessary.”

“Nah,” Ma said. “No Melbourne. No flight back.”

Murmurs in the room and then silence again.

The melancholy ticking clock. The fire crackling. Mosquitoes buzzing. Dog whining. At the back of the room, Heather saw the man who had sold them the sausage sizzles. When the Dutch couple were rounded up, everyone who knew about them coming over here would be in this house under Ma’s control.

“You tried to hide the body. You did a hit-and-run. That’s a crime. That’s a crime on Dutch Island and in Victoria and in America,” Ma said.

“That, um, that was my fault. Tom had hit his head. That was my idea,” Heather said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was scared. I wanted us to get over to the mainland first before we called the police.”