Paradise Island: Complete Edition (16 page)

As I walked back home that day I felt as if somebody was watching me. I certainly hope I’m just being paranoid, but something deep inside tells me that maybe I should have been better off just letting go and making that leap from the cliff. Then other times, when my hands are on my stomach, I can almost feel the life inside me growing, and I know that whatever lays ahead the life inside me deserves more than I ever got.

––––––––

T
hings have gotten worse. I think I’m even starting to be afraid of my own shadow. Maybe I’m going crazy. It’s happened to a couple of girls I know. Married, nice husbands, but once their belly started to swell, it was as if their mind couldn’t handle it and broke for some reason. I certainly hoped that wasn’t the case for me. It couldn’t be. I wanted this baby too much.

I lock my door and the other girls think me strange, but there is something sinister out there. Whether it be Thomas or one of his girls, I do not know. All I know is that since my belly has started to grow the world I knew before has disappeared. Even after Thomas had ended things between us, the world still had hope and light in it. A suitable husband, perhaps. But now the world is dark and hopeless, and it seems it’s literally trying to destroy me.

I hope I am wrong, dear diary, but it seems my choices in life have caught up to me. Maybe Thomas was right. Maybe I should go far away and give birth to this child, and then see what the rest of my life will be like. Perhaps after this burden is gone, the light can shine in the darkness again.

––––––––

I
had to put the journal down for a minute because Josie’s pivotal moment at the cliff reminded me of my own. I also found it strange that she feared someone was watching her, especially in light of recent events.

It seemed that mine and Josie’s lives had more parallels than I’d ever imagined. I picked the journal up and continued reading again. So close to the end, I did not want to stop now.

––––––––

D
ear diary, my dear diary, I am absolutely petrified of the shadows that hide in darkness, waiting to strike at any moment. I haven’t gone outside much. As my belly grows, my world seems to be contracting. What have I done by keeping this child of mine? What have I done?

––––––––

I
’ve got a letter today from Thomas, telling me to meet him at his church after midnight. One part of me says not to go, another part wants desperately to hear him apologize and accept our child as his own. I will wear my best dress and I shall meet him upon the church on the hill. My dear child, your father is calling for us, and we shall not disappoint him. It will be an effort to make it there, but this is just too important to let my irrational fears dictate my every move.

Dear diary, I shall tell you of everything that has transpired as soon as I return.

I hope Thomas has finally come to his senses.

––––––––

T
hat was the last entry, and while I don’t know what I expected to find there, I was not ready for this kind of ending. It only made sense. Perhaps there was another diary waiting to be discovered or destroyed that continued this tale, but I highly doubted it. There were still a good fifty or so pages left in this one, and all of Josie’s other diaries were filled to the brim. Not this one. So this must have been her last entry.

How peculiar. I knew not to expect a tidy ending, for a diary is not a novel, but still I couldn’t help but feel disappointed by what I’d read last. I reread it again, and then I looked back at some of the entries before it. While my imagination must have been running on overdrive, if I had to make a guess at what happened to Josie after her last entry, I’d have to say it was nothing good. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had met an unfortunate end. But that still didn’t explain how the diaries ended up in the walls of the house that stood atop this hill before. Then I got an idea.

I got out of bed and put my jeans and shirt on. I went into the kitchen for a glass of water. I thought about looking through Josie’s earlier diaries, but I doubted they’d be of much help. I needed to speak to Jack, and quick. But it was in the middle of the night, and I did not want to wake him. I found him sleeping on the couch with a book in his hand. I looked down on him, willing him to wake with my mind. He moved a bit to the side, and then his eyes did open.

Goodness, Sophie, what the hell are you doing? You’ve just woken the man because you couldn’t wait until the morning to ask him a question about something that happened a very long time ago?

“Sorry if I woke you,” I said quietly, and turned around, ready to go back to my room and try to fall asleep, though that seemed like an impossibility at the moment. My mind was going at a thousand miles per hour trying to piece together a coherent scenario out of what Josie’s diary had told me.

“No, wait, Sophie,” Jack said and slowly got up from the couch. He was just in his shorts, most of his gorgeous body on full display. I was pretty sure I was blushing, but thankfully it was dark enough in the room to hide it.

Thankfully, Jack quickly put on a t-shirt, covering up his hard nipples. It must have been chilly in the house. I wouldn’t have known, because I always wore a t-shirt to bed.

“I’m awake now, what is it?” He rubbed his eyes with his hands. “I should probably go and sleep in my own bed, huh? It’s not like we’re in danger anymore.”

I ignored that last comment. I wasn’t here to talk about Henry. He was dead and gone. No, I had something far more interesting on my mind. I walked across the room and sat on a sofa chair across from him. “It’s about the journals you let me read. I just wanted to ask you a question.”

“About the journals? I can’t say I know more about them than I already told you.”

“Oh, no, it’s just about this house.” I looked around at the beautiful modern structure with gorgeous views all around us. “I was wondering if you knew much about the house that stood here before.”

“Can’t say that I do. But my contractor should, or at least someone local around here. I’m sure they have records dating back a long time.”

“Do you think you could help me find out more about this place? There’s also a woman I’d like to search for. The one who wrote the journals you let me read. I want to know what happened to her.”

“Sure. We can go to the local library tomorrow. I’m pretty sure they have all that stuff there, or at least they should.”

“Thank you, Jack.” He didn’t know just how happy he had made me. “Thank you for everything!”

And with that, I left him alone, excited by the prospect of finding out more about what really happened to Josie, and to see if my suspicions about Jack’s house were correct.

––––––––

T
he next morning I got up bright and early and made some toast with coffee and tea. I wanted to give Jack a choice, and when he got up half an hour later, he chose the coffee and thanked me profusely. He was in a t-shirt and jeans and I couldn’t help but steal glances at his perfect physique. My mind kept going back to when I saw him with Lucy, except this time the only thing I thought about was his perfect body, in throes of passion. The very thoughts I was having made me uncomfortable, but I couldn’t chase them away. Instead, I took a long sip of my lukewarm tea, hoping that would help calm me down some.

“So, should I go get ready?” Jack asked after finishing some of the French toast and his coffee. He must have noticed that I was all dressed up, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“If they’re open this early, I’m ready,” I said, while trying not to look like I was checking him out. He was standing halfway across the room, his back to me, but his head turned around in my direction. I thought about what Josie, or even Lucy, would have done if they had found themselves living with, and wanted by, a man such as Jack. I had those thoughts, too, I couldn’t lie about that. It’s just when it came to acting on them, I always recoiled at the thought of anything actually happening between us. But Jack was a patient man. A good man, and he deserved better than that. When he disappeared off to his room to get dressed, I resolved to have one final talk with him. To tell him that nothing would ever happen between us and that he should move on, and find himself a woman who would be able to love him as much as he loved her, both emotionally and physically.

Pretty soon we found ourselves on Jack’s bike, making our way to the library. Jack wasn’t sure of the exact location, but he knew the general area it was in from when he first came to town. I held onto him tight, and wondered if this would be one of the last times I’d ever be this close to him.

Pretty soon we were in town, on the lookout for any building that looked like a library. We spotted one not soon after, and Jack parked right in front. Jack took the lead on this one because I had neither the social skill nor the famous face. I can’t say I missed either. I walked behind him and watched from a distance as he talked to the older librarian lady at the desk. The library itself wasn’t much more than a house, only slightly bigger. But what it lacked in size, it more than made up for in volume.

There were what looked to be thousands of books, on every wall and even on bookshelves set up as aisles. I was quite impressed with what I saw and made a mental note that perhaps I should become a member. I mostly kept my head down since I came to the island, Lucy being the only exception. Poor, Lucy, I still wondered where she could have gone.

I overheard Jack ask about his property so I decided to come closer.

The woman had a romance paperback by her side, obviously in the middle of being devoured, though she did not seem displeased as she looked up at Jack. Not many men looking like him must have passed through these same doors, asking her questions about things only she supposedly knew.

“The house on the hill, the new construction? Is that the one you mean?” The woman adjusted her spectacles and took a nice long look at Jack, and not just his face. Her gaze continued downward as well. I could see by the look on her face that she liked what she saw, and I couldn’t blame her. I held back a laugh, and waited for their conversation to continue. I wasn’t here to laugh at old ladies ogling young, handsome fellows. I was here to find out what had happened to Josie, the constant diarist, as she became known in my mind.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Jack said. “I own it now of course, but I was wondering what kind of house it was before. Its history, anything you can really tell me.” Jack was using his British accent. I guess it helped disguise his true origin as an American actor. Even if they thought they recognized him, as this particular librarian surely did, the accent would throw them off.

“Oh, yes, I remember. I was born on this island. To me, the house on the hill was not just a house. It was a church. Of course, it later got converted into a house when the Miltons moved away, after the tragedy, and then much, much later, it was torn down and a new house was built in that spot. The house which you live in now, of course, young man.”

“What tragedy?” I interjected without even realizing that I had jumped into their conversation.

The old librarian looked at me quizzically. She smiled and then went back to admiring Jack. “While yes, Father Thomas Milton was accused of having a torrid affair with one of his parishioners and the whole family was devastated. The girl ended up killing herself in that very church. Mary Milton, his wife, took the children and they’ve never been back here again. As for Father Thomas, he became quite a drunk until one day years later, whether it was accident or intentional, we will never know, he fell down from the cliffs by the moor, to his death. It was quite a shock at the time.”

“The girl,” I said, excitement boiling over inside me. “Was her name Josie Browning by any chance?”

“Lord no,” the old librarian said. “What makes you say such a thing? The girl’s name was Annie Seeley.”

“Hmm, Annie Seeley,” I turned that name over in my mind. She could have been the one Josie found Thomas with that fateful, awful night. “Oh, Josie. Sorry, I don’t know why I would think that. I was wondering if you know anything about her, though.”

“Josie,” the old woman looked to be in thought. Jack gave me a look that seemed to say that I might have hit a nerve. “Josie Browning, yes, I think I do remember something about her. But what was it. It’s been such a long time since I’ve heard that name.”

“I know she lived in the Bootsnest Boarding House, I want to say.”

“Oh, yes,” the old woman was excited again. “Yes, of course. She was a strange girl, indeed. Especially toward the end there.”

“The end?” I asked, not really quite sure what the old woman was talking about.

“I was only a young girl at the time, so I might be misremembering, but before I get to all that, it seems I have forgotten my manners. Can I get you two some tea or something?”

“Oh, no that’s fine, ma’am,” Jack said.

“I’m fine as well.”

“Well, you two should at least have a seat. It hurts my neck to look up so much.”

We did as we were told. We brought a couple of chairs and sat patiently by the woman’s desk, waiting for her to continue her story.

“Where was I?” she said.

“Josie. Josie Browning. You said you remembered her when you were a young girl.”

“Oh, yes. She was quite strange before she went up and disappeared. I don’t know if she moved away and told no one, or what, but her family came down to look for her, I think her father and brother to be precise, but she was nowhere to be found. It caused quite a stir in this small town. But of course, then the Father Thomas scandal happened, and suicide of poor Annie, so Josie was quickly forgotten. Most of us just assumed that she moved on to bigger and better things. Or at least that’s what we hoped for.”

“Is there anything more you remember about Father Thomas and his family? Maybe something about his son, Greyson?” I remembered the encounter she had with Greyson after the incident in the church. If he wasn’t somehow responsible for her disappearance, he might have a clue as to what actually happened, especially if his father was involved.