Page 1 of The Island in Bramble Bay
1
MAGGIE STOOD ON the quay watching the ferry grow bigger as it made its way towards her. She took a deep breath. Wavering now was not an option. Heading off to live on an island, albeit only a stone’s throw from the mainland, was the only way to leave everything behind and that was exactly what she wanted. The odds of making bad decisions had to be smaller on an island. But despite her fantastic powers of reasoning, doubt niggled.
She turned and walked to the end of the quay, hoping to release some of her anxiety. Why was she so worried? It was a sound, practical decision not driven by emotion or consideration of anyone except herself, and that was how everything would be from now on.
Once the ferry had docked, Maggie stood aside until everyone was off before grabbing her assortment of bags and cases and heaving them onto the boat.
‘Blimey, love. Are you moving in?’ asked the young man who was collecting the tickets.
‘I am, actually. I’m the new park manager on Bramble Island, Maggie Cassidy.’ She grinned and held out her hand which he took enthusiastically.
‘Nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m William, first mate and general dogsbody on the Bramble Bay Ferry.’
Maggie handed over her ticket and began to pick up her bags again.
‘Hold on a minute, I can help you with those.’ William grabbed the bags as easily as if they were filled with air and carried them into the cabin below, where he left them in a neat pile in the corner. ‘They’ll be safe here,’ he said, before heading up the steep narrow stairs to the top deck. ‘Best place to travel on a day like today.’
Maggie wholeheartedly agreed and thanked William before taking a seat on the port side which gave her a wonderful view of Bramble Bay. Once the boat was moving, the refreshing breeze that Maggie had enjoyed on the quay felt more like a force nine gale but it was a bright spring day and she didn’t mind the elements at all. Years of working outdoors had taught her to be well prepared, whatever the weather, and today she was wearing numerous layers underneath her waterproof coat and her feet were toasty warm in her favourite hiking boots thanks to a pair of hand-knitted socks her sister had made.
She clasped her dark chestnut hair in one hand at the nape of her neck while with the other hand, did her best to keep the tendrils that were whipping across her face out of her eyes. She moved to the starboard side which was sheltered from the wind by the roof of the cabin, losing the view of the beautiful bay and gaining instead a peek at the exclusive properties that bordered the water in prestigious Sandbanks.
After a few minutes of sailing, the butterflies that had been with her since early that morning were threatening to turn into full-blown seasickness. Not wanting to make that kind of first impression on anyone, she forced herself to stop looking at the incredible houses they were passing and instead she tried to focus on the horizon.
From this far away, Bramble Island looked as if it were covered with trees but Maggie remembered the first time she had been to Bramble Island and knew there was more to it than that. She had been a teenager on holiday with her parents and older sister. They had visited the island for the day and she remembered feeling as if it were a place that time had forgotten. Back then, the park and woodland weren’t managed like they were now and the island was still recovering from having been left to its own devices for too many years by a previous owner who thought that nature could look after itself. But there were so many species that weren’t native to the island, having been introduced by the Victorians, that doing nothing meant that some of them ran wild, overwhelming the island. Through careful management by the Trust, it was now a beautiful place where everything thrived. Maggie was thrilled to be working with them and was excited to see how far it had come since her last visit.
When she’d been offered the job as park manager, not only had it been perfect timing as she was looking to move on — she needed to move on — but the fact that it was an island held a sense of adventure and intrigue that was tempting in itself. Living on an island was just what she needed. Especially because, from what she gathered, it would just be her and the odd holiday cottage tenant until she recruited some volunteers.
As the ferry approached the harbour, Maggie saw the large crenellated manor house, Bramble Castle, which was now a country retreat leased to a large company and not open to the public, although she hoped that island residents might be exempt from that rule, and on the other side of the quay was a row of small cottages.
William had told her to stay where she was until the other passengers had disembarked so that he could help her with her bags again. She made her way down the steps to the main deck and waited for William. As soon as the last passenger had disembarked, he skipped back onto the ferry, grabbed her bags from the cabin and deposited them on the quayside before jumping back onto the boat. ‘See you soon! Good luck!’ he called.
After shouting her thanks, Maggie turned and surveyed the quayside, wondering what to do next. She’d expected the general manager would be there to meet her although she would have been quite happy to go off and find someone, save for the thought of having to lug all her bags with her again. But as the ferry was about to leave on its return journey, she reasoned that if anyone tried to steal them at least they wouldn’t be able to escape the island for another hour or two, so she shoved them next to the harbour wall and headed beyond the cafe and souvenir shop towards the Trust’s visitor reception.
A harassed looking woman behind the desk planted a smile on her face with some effort and said, ‘Good morning, welcome to Bramble Island. Have you visited us before?’ As she spoke, she held out an information leaflet and map which Maggie took.
‘Not for many years. I’m not actually a visitor, I’m Maggie Cassidy. Could you tell me where I can find…’
‘Clare Francis. I’m so sorry I didn’t meet you as planned. We’re a member of staff short today so I had to help with the influx of visitors from the ferry.’ She shook Maggie’s hand and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Good grief, it’s been one of those days already. Anyway, first things first, let’s get your things to the cottage and then I’ll show you around.’
Maggie’s new home was the end cottage of the little terrace she had seen from the ferry. It was the one furthest from the quay, next to three others which were holiday lets. It was whitewashed, with tiny windows and a little patio area to the side, which faced the sea. The shingle beach reached almost to the doorstep and Maggie was sure that the waves must batter the cottage in the winter.
Clare opened the front door and the familiar musty smell of a house which has been shut up for a while greeted them.
‘I meant to come and air it out before you arrived but you know how it is,’ Clare said apologetically.
‘Oh no, it’s lovely,’ said Maggie, taking in the flagstone floor and open fireplace in the small living room. She moved through to the kitchen which was surprisingly spacious and had a large scrubbed pine table in the middle. After all the places she had lived before, Maggie recognised this cottage for what it was; a slightly unloved but cosy little sanctuary that she could make her own. Upstairs was one bedroom overlooking the harbour and a small bathroom with pink sanitary ware which made her smile. It was perfect. She just wanted to stay, unpack and savour the fact that she had her own space for the first time but Clare was waiting to show her around the rest of the island.
From the quayside, they walked through the reception building towards the centre of the island. The mature hedging and trees shaded them from the spring sunshine and made for an enticing entrance to Bramble Island. Maggie imagined that as the greenery thickened in the warmer weather, it would become almost like a tunnel. Once they had moved away from the shore it became less obvious that it was an island at all. The woodland was quite dense and hid the sea from view very quickly. The water in the harbour was relatively calm which probably explained why the smell of the sea wasn’t there to remind you where you were and there was no sound of waves crashing, at least not today.
They arrived at a large shed on the edge of the woodland where the sea came into view again but it was off the beaten track and away from the many footpaths that led visitors around the island.
‘This is the headquarters of the park team and where you’ll be based,’ explained Clare. Inside, it really was no more than a glorified shed furnished with a couple of untidy desks, various overloaded notice boards and a handful of mismatched armchairs and wooden chairs arranged in one corner facing a wood-burning stove. In the opposite corner was a partitioned area which would be Maggie’s office. ‘Maggie, I hate to leave you in the lurch but the next ferry is due any minute and I could do with getting back.’
‘Don’t worry Clare. I’m happy to find my way around.’
‘Thanks so much. I don’t know if you remember, but you can walk around the main path which loops the island in an hour or so. That might be a good start,’ Clare said, visibly relieved at being off the hook and backing out of the office as she spoke. ‘Feel free to do whatever you think needs doing, it’s your domain and it’s only you and Charlie at the moment anyway. Perhaps pop into reception if you need anything or have any questions.’
Maggie stood in the middle of the room taking it all in. It was typical of most of the places she’d worked before; organised chaos. But now that she was in charge she wanted it to be properly organised, tidy and welcoming. There was nothing worse as a volunteer than turning up to work somewhere and not having a clue where to start or what was what and she was determined that her volunteers would feel like a valued part of a well-organised team.
