Page 119 of Take Me Away

‘Her boyfriend, Peter, he…’ The words struggle to form. ‘He died in the storm, rescuing Kit.’ The last two words are just a whisper.

‘He what? Isla, you’re breaking up.’

It’s not the phone line breaking up. I think it’s me.

‘He died, Piper, he went out on the RNLI call to save Kit, who was stranded in the storm, and he died.’

There’s just silence, followed by a sigh. ‘That’s a clusterfuck.’

I’m outside Kit’s and I want to be in there and not standing on the phone. ‘Did you need something from me? I want to get back to Kit.’

Another sigh. This one deeper, laden with unspoken words. ‘Listen, I hate to do this now, but Marcus’s lawyers have served a defamation suit.’

My stomach drops, twists, pulls in a painful knot. ‘They’ve what?’

‘James Faraday from Faraday Law has been trying to call you for days, but I guess you aren’t answering anyone, not just me.’

‘A defamation suit? What does that even mean?’

‘It means Marcus Vale plans to see you in court and prove that anything you’ve said in support of Jemima Collins’ accusation of sexual misconduct is a lie.’

‘But…’ I don’t have anything to say. My knees are knocking together and I’m pretty sure I’m going to hurl over the cobbled stones of Sea Salt Bay.

‘Isla. This is serious. If you have anything else, any other evidence or anything that supports what you’ve said, you need to tell people, make it official.’

My blood is ice in my veins. ‘I can’t.’

‘Isla…’

‘No, Piper. I can’t.’

‘Talk to me, babe, let me help you.’

There’s a wild thudding in my throat. ‘I can’t.’

‘Will you please come back to London. You don’t even need to stay in London; we can go to New York, I can get the apartment there ready in hours. You need your team. You need to let us help you. If this goes in Marcus’s favour, you might never work again. It doesn’t matter how good you are, how talented. If he proves you to be a liar, you’ll be a liability no one wants to gamble on.’

The door to Kit’s cottage opens and he peers out. Wearing a pale blue hoodie and dark jeans with bare feet, hair tousled, he looks so much like the boy I used to know it makes pain lance through my chest. Only the addition of the beard marks the years between then and now.

‘I’ve got to go,’ I whisper to Piper and swipe the screen. I can hear her calling me back, but I ignore it and tuck my phone back in my pocket.

‘Everything okay?’ Kit’s denim-dark gaze wanders across my face. ‘You look pale.’

‘I’m fine.’ I step up across the threshold and catch his face in my hands. ‘Let me do the worrying about you.’ The door closes softly behind us and his arms wind around my waist, face dropping to the crook of my neck.

‘I’ll take care of you,’ I promise, turning my face and kissing the side of his head where it rests on my shoulder.

Kit nods and his arms tighten, and we stand, just like that. Together.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

ISLA

Kit’s cottage later that evening is chaos.

Well, Kit’s version of chaos, which means quiet devastation. He’s standing in the middle of Maisie’s room, holding a school jumper in one hand and staring at it like he’s forgotten what it’s for.

‘Kit?’