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“They were sickly and still deformed but very much alive. Ada stopped acting insane and sleeping among the bushes. She moved back into the big house. The boys, about six years old by then, were cared for, no luxury denied them. Ada governed the island in their name for the next ten years until they died. Sometime during those ten years, the great house was divided into four separate smaller houses, and these two, here, were given to her daughters when they got married.”
She waves a hand at the room around us. “Labri Catch and” – she points towards the window in the direction of Hal’s property – “Low Catch.”
“Wait a minute,” Hal suddenly interjects. “How did the boys come back in time? A few days after James died.”
“And that.” Pierre gets up on her knees. “That’s the real mystery.”
“You think…” He stops to consider.
“They were hidden somewhere here on the island, all along?” I guess.
Hal swings his gaze to me; his eyes seem dark blue in the lamplight. “Impossible. Not here. Even if she had help, and I imagine the boatman must have helped her—”
“Exactly what I think.” Gabriel leans forward over his crossed legs. “I think he must have been on her side, and possibly others helped too.”
“Even so,” Hal says thoughtfully. “They might have hidden the boys for a few days, a fortnight at most, but not a few years. Nothing ever stays secret on La Canette. People would talk.” His mouth twists on the last few words, as if they taste bitter. “There’d be gossip about seeing the boys in someone’s house.”
“But they could have hidden them for a short while and then smuggled them off the islan.” I argue back. “What if the boatman stayed with them and then brought them back after Sir James died.”
“How?” He shifts slightly so he’s facing me. “You imagine Ada phoned him, sent him a WhatsApp?” Hal mimes texting on an invisible phone. “Evil husband dead, the coast is clear, please sail back with the heirs to Montague seigneurship.”
I laugh and his eyes stay on me.
“This is where I think the two of you might be able to help,” Pierre says. “We found a secret letter left in the church with a request to read it if Ada died before her husband.” She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through it. “The letter contained a single sentence.” She hands me the phone with a picture on the screen.
pour trouver un passage sûr et un abri caché, vous devez suivre les épines et les piqûres jusqu'à l'eau cachée
I offer the phone to Hal; we both have to stretch our arms to reach. Then he unfolds his legs and shuffles to sit on my other side.
“My French is pretty poor.” He reads from the screen. “Something about passage to the hidden shelter following the stings?”
“It says,” Pierre translates. “To find safe passage and hidden shelter you must follow the thorns and stings to the hidden water.”
“What does it mean?”
“We think the thorns and stings refers to Catcher Hill. The stings in the lines, we think, refer to bees.”
A memory of Grandad and Doris talking about the bees. “Grandad says it used to be called Honey-Bee Hill long ago, and the flowers which feed the bees go back hundreds of years. Obviously not… Not the same plants but you know…their…”
“Children?” Hal smiles, giving me the phone, then asks Pierre, “So, you think the bees lead to what?”
“That is what we don’t know. It says hidden water and hidden shelter and safe passage. So, this would seem to suggest a way to travel off the island.”
“Could it be a private beach?” I think for a minute. “La Canette’s coast is pockmarked with coves, it might be a secret place from which to sail. I would guess all her pretend madness and sleeping outdoors must have been her going somewhere to visit her boys. There has to be a secret way down to the beach from here.”
“Impossible,” Hal says firmly. “Catcher Hill comes to a sheer rock face that goes down to the sea. I’ve studied the land charts and maps. There’s even reference to a discussion in the land registry about constructing a safety barrier to stop anyone falling. It was never done because the hillside is choked with thorny bushes, they don’t think anyone could get to the edge.”
Gabriel nods agreement. “There is no access from this hill. We took the water taxi all around this side of the coast. There is a blind cove below, a narrow sandy beach, little more than a strand against the rockface but you can’t get to it unless you fall from the top of the cliff.”
“That’s why I think,” Pierre repeats, “they must have been kept here. In a secret room in this house. I mean, think about it. The boyscame back” – she mimes inverted commas again – “within days of James’ death. Too quickly for it to be a boat journey. You may think it’s a five-hour ferry trip now from Southampton but that’s modern shipping. Back then, on a small sailboat…?” She holds her hands palms-up.
“Not only that,” Hal agrees with her. “The seas would have been full of danger. You’re talking about the golden age of piracy.”
“Unless,” Gabriel says carefully, “they were never taken to England but one of the channel islands nearby.”
“Even then.” Hal shakes his head again, and a wedge of his hair falls over his brow. “Ada couldn’t have gone sailing willy-nilly every few days, not even if it’s to Guernsey.”
“Maybe we’re overthinking this,” I say. “I mean it might just be that her sleeping outdoors was to avoid her husband.”
