Page 8 of The Sisters at the Last House Before the Sea

Isla deliberately breathed out slowly so her voice would be level when she replied: ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, but I don’t think I have the monopoly on being selfish.’

Caitlin narrowed her eyes at that but said nothing, because what could she say? She knew what she’d done. Though Isla felt sure Caitlin didn’t fully appreciate the impact of her actions on Isla’s life over the years.

Caitlin leaned back against the stone windowsill. ‘I’d just like the money now,’ she said.

‘Why?’

‘Because…because…’ She sighed, looking weary behind her make-up. ‘I just thought we’d sell the house.’

‘And we will, one day. I agree the house is bigger than I need and maybe I’ll feel like moving out before too long. But right now, I need the stability and familiarity of Rose Cottage, and I can’t face moving so quickly after losing Gran. She must have known that, which is why she made sure in her will that I could stay.’

To Isla’s alarm, Caitlin looked as if she might really cry this time. ‘You don’t understand everything that’s—’ she began. But she stopped and shook her head when Maisie walked into the room, a small jewellery box under her arm, and threw herself onto the sofa.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ said Caitlin breezily, her face now expressionless.

‘Huh. If you say so.’

Maisie obviously didn’t believe her stepmother, and Isla felt sorry for the girl, remembering how hard it was to be a teenager. She lived a pretty cushy life, by the sound of it, but she was still fifteen, with all the associated hormonal and emotional upheaval that entailed.

Caitlin was just fifteen when she and Isla first moved to Heaven’s Cove, following the death of their mother. And Isla, though Caitlin had delayed going to university for two years, was still only sixteen when her sister had moved to London and left her behind.

‘So, Maisie, is that what Gran left you in her will?’ asked Caitlin, her tone flat.

‘Yeah. I found it in her dressing table, like that solicitor woman said.’

Maisie sniffed and opened the lid of the box she was carrying. A plastic ballerina turned to a tuneless rendition of ‘Edelweiss’ as Maisie began to lay out her treasures on the coffee table. Isla recognised the gold cross and chain that her grandmother would sometimes wear, and the brooch that adorned her coat on special occasions. The last time she’d worn it had been to the Halloween festivities in the village. That had only been four weeks ago but, to Isla, it felt like an age.

‘She left me this too,’ said Maisie, ‘though it’s a bit odd.’

Maisie laid a small piece of driftwood on the table and Isla’s breath caught in her throat when she recognised it.

‘It’s Gran’s guardian angel.’ She picked up the lightweight wood and ran a finger across the etched grooves.

‘Her what?’

‘She called it her guardian angel and reckoned it was her lucky charm.’

‘Random!’ Maisie frowned and began to fiddle with the stud in her nose that Isla had at first mistaken for adolescent acne. ‘So where’s it from?’

‘I have no idea. Gran never said. I wish I’d asked her but…’ Isla stopped, unable to say the words…but it’s too late now.

Maisie twisted her mouth, looking far younger than her heavy make-up suggested. ‘So why did she want me to have it?’

‘Gran, your great-gran, would slip it in her pocket sometimes. She told me once that it was her protector, so maybe she wanted it to protect you too.’

The muscles in Maisie’s jaw tightened, as if she was trying to control her emotions, but then the blank look was back. ‘Sweet. That was nice of her.’

‘She liked you,’ said Isla.

‘I liked her too,’ Maisie mumbled.

She glanced at her stepmother, who murmured, ‘She was a very special woman,’ while looking as if her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Isla heard the front door open and close and a deep voice rang out. ‘Is anyone about? Isla, where are you?’

‘I didn’t realise that Paul had a key,’ said Caitlin.

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