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Back The Whistling Save as PDF
Chapters (52)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. DEDICATION
  4. EPIGRAPH
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. Part Two
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. Part Three
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. Acknowledgements
  52. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Dawn came, uncaring of the truth. I rose from the sheets heavier in my bones than I had been the morning before. If Mary saw the change in me she did not show it, and the bright sun drew us out again to the sand and sea.

The day seemed too dazzling not to banish the weight of horror, but every rock, every tree was painted in the same fearful knowledge, and the dread that I believed I had shuffled away wound tighter and tighter once again.

That night, in spite of exhaustion, sleep eluded me. My head ached. I did not know how I could manage the return of fear – fear made worse by what I now understood. I began to feel again the dissembling of my senses. An hour I spent, turning on the sheets in restless thought, and at the end of it, I had to know the truth and so I went to Mary’s room and shook her awake. She did not sleep deeply and her eyes came open quickly and gazed at me with alarm.

‘Mary,’ I said. ‘You told me about the dolphin and to stay away.’

She sat up, the pulse beating hard at her throat. ‘Mary,’ I pleaded, ‘if you know how Hettie and William really died or you are in danger, you can tell me.’ I put my hand on hers. It was nearly on my lips to reveal what had happened the night Ailsa and I had sent Hettie and William back to the grave. ‘Don’t you know, Mary, what lengths I would go to to protect you?’ My throat tightened. ‘You are like a sister to me now. Like Clara.’

A look of hope sprang to her expression but before I could fully appreciate it, it was sunk in fear.

‘Who?’ I begged. ‘Who means you harm?’ Because I was convinced that someone did. ‘It’s too late now, Mary. Do you understand? Too late to keep this terrible secret. They were murdered, weren’t they?’

Her eyes grew wider.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I know it all.’

Her skin paled and she reached for Bobbity, clutching her to her chest.

‘Mary,’ I took her face in my hands, ‘Mary, you have been silent long enough.’

Her mouth worked. Her lips paled but then her eyes found mine and fixed there.

‘I can’t,’ she mouthed in anguish, ‘I can’t.’

‘You must do it, Mary. You can speak safely to me. Greer, was it her?’

I held her hand tight to mine and something crumbled behind her look. She leaned in close to my ear and finally, finally unglued her tongue and, in a voice so soft I had to draw even closer, she told me everything.

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