Simon Beckett - Written in Bone

‘Michael…What happened to you?’

‘It doesn’t matter. Just let the girl go.’

Mentioning Anna was a mistake. Grace’s face grew ugly.

‘Don’t you mean your daughter?’

Strachan’s poise faltered. But he quickly recovered. ‘She’s done nothing to you, Grace. You’ve always liked Anna. I know you don’t want to hurt her.’

‘Is it true?’ Grace was crying. ‘Is it? Tell me they were lying! Please, Michael!’

Do it, I thought. Tell her what she wants. But Strachan hesitated for too long. Grace’s face creased up.

‘No!’ she moaned.

‘Grace…’

‘Shut up!’ she screamed, the tendons in her neck standing out like cords. ‘You fucked this bitch, you chose her over me?’

‘I can explain, Grace,’ Strachan said, but he was losing it. Losing her. ‘Liar! All this time, you’ve been lying! I could forgive you the others, but this…How could you?’

It was as though no one else existed any more except her and her brother. The smell of gas was growing stronger. What the hell was Fraser doing? Brody began edging nearer to Grace.

‘Put the knife down, Grace. No one’s going to-’

‘Don’t come near me!’ she screamed.

Brody backed off. Chest rising and falling, Grace glared at us, her face contorted.

The silence was suddenly broken by a metallic clatter. Ellen had let the saucepan drop. As it bounced on the floor, the sound of it shockingly loud, she stepped slowly towards Grace.

‘Ellen, don’t!’ Strachan ordered, but there was more fear than authority in his voice.

She ignored him. All her attention was fixed on his sister.

‘It’s me you want, isn’t it? All right, I’m here. Do what you like to me, but please don’t hurt my daughter.’

‘For God’s sake, Ellen,’ Brody said, but he might as well not have spoken either.

Ellen spread her arms in invitation. ‘Well, come on! What are you waiting for?’

Grace had turned to face her, a tick working one corner of her mouth like broken clockwork.

Strachan broke in, desperately. ‘Look at me, Grace. Forget her, she’s not important.’

‘Stay out of this,’ Ellen warned.

But Strachan took one pace forward, then another. He held out his hands as if he were trying to soothe a wild animal.

‘You’re all that matters to me, Grace. You know that. Let Anna go. Let her go, and then we’ll get away from this place. Go somewhere else, start again. Just me and you.’

Grace was staring at him with such naked yearning it felt obscene to see it.

‘Put the knife down,’ he told her, softly.

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of her. The smell of leaking gas seemed to grow heavier as the moment hung, poised to go either way.

Then Anna chose that moment to wriggle free of Grace’s hand.

‘Mummy, she’s hurting-’

Grace slapped her palm back over Anna’s mouth. The madness was a white heat in her eyes.

‘You shouldn’t have lied, Michael,’ she said, and pulled back Anna’s head.

‘No!’ Strachan cried, flinging himself at her as the knife swept down.

Brody and I lunged forward as Strachan struggled with his sister, but Ellen was faster than either of us. She snatched Anna away as Grace screamed, a cry of pure fury. Leaving Brody to help Strachan, I rushed to where Ellen was clutching her daughter.

‘Let me see her, Ellen!’

She wouldn’t let go. She hugged Anna to her, both of them smeared with blood and weeping hysterically. But I could see that the blood was from Ellen’s cuts, that the little girl wasn’t hurt. Thank God. As I sagged with relief, Brody’s voice came from behind me.

‘David.’

He sounded odd. He had hold of Grace, pinning her arms behind her back, but she wasn’t struggling any more. They were both staring at Strachan. He stood nearby, looking down at himself with a faintly surprised expression.

The knife handle was jutting from his stomach.

‘Michael…?’ Grace said, in a small voice.

‘It’s all right,’ he told her, but then his legs gave way.

‘Michael!’ Grace screamed.

Brody held her back as she tried to go to Strachan. I managed to reach him, trying to take his weight on my good shoulder. ‘Get Anna outside. Take her to a neighbour’s,’ I told Ellen, as he sank to the floor.

‘Is he…’

‘Just take her, Ellen.’

I wanted them well away from here. The stink of gas had become so thick it was nauseating. I glanced at the portable heater that lay on its side nearby, relieved that at least it wasn’t still on. With so much propane leaking into the room the last thing we needed was naked flame. I wondered again what was taking Fraser so long.

Grace was still being restrained by Brody, sobbing, as I knelt by Strachan. His face had gone shockingly white.

‘You can let go of my sister now,’ he said, voice hoarse with pain. ‘She’s not going anywhere.’

I gave Brody a nod when he hesitated. As soon as he released her Grace dropped down beside Strachan.

‘Oh God, Michael…’ Her face was a mask of anguish as she turned to me. ‘Do something! Help him!’

He tried to smile as he took hold of her hand. ‘Don’t worry, everything’ll be all right. I promise.’

‘Don’t talk,’ I told him. ‘Try to keep as still as you can.’

I started to examine his wound. It was bad. The knife blade was fully lodged in his stomach. I couldn’t even begin to guess what internal damage it had caused.

‘Don’t look so grim…’ he told me.

‘Just a scratch,’ I said, lightly. ‘I’m going to help you lie down flat. Try not to move the knife.’

Its blade was the only thing preventing him from bleeding to death. As long as it stayed where it was, it would act as a plug to slow his blood loss. But not for long.

Grace was weeping more quietly now, the violence drained from her as she cradled her brother’s head on her lap. I tried to keep my anxiety from my face as I quickly ran through my options. There weren’t many. There were none of the facilities here that Strachan needed, and the only nurse on the island was lying dead in the other room. Unless we could get him evacuated, and soon, he was going to die whatever I did.

Fraser rushed back in, skidding on the broken crockery and spilled food on the floor.

‘Jesus!’ he panted, seeing Strachan, then gathered himself. ‘The gas canisters are locked in a cage. I can’t open it.’

Brody had been struggling to move the heavy pine dresser that was lying in front of the back door, partially blocking it. Now he abandoned the attempt, staring round the wrecked kitchen.

‘The keys for the cage must be here somewhere,’ he said, frustrated.

But even if we’d known where Ellen kept them it wouldn’t have done any good. Every drawer had been pulled out and smashed, their contents scattered amongst the rest of the debris. The keys could be anywhere.

Brody had reached the same conclusion. ‘We don’t have time to look. Let’s get everybody out while we break into the cage to turn off the gas.’

There was no way Strachan should be moved, but the gas left us no choice. It was so thick now I could taste it. The atmosphere in the kitchen would soon be unbreathable. And propane was heavier than air, which meant it would be even worse on the floor where Strachan lay.

I gave a quick nod of assent. ‘We can use the table to carry him.’

Grace was still weeping as she cradled her brother’s head. Strachan had been watching us in silence. Even though he must have been in agony he seemed remarkably calm. Almost peaceful.

‘Just leave me here,’ he said, his voice already weakening.

‘Thought I told you to be quiet?’

He grinned, and for a moment looked like the man I’d met when I’d first arrived on the island. Grace was keening, an almost animal sound of grief as she stroked his face.