Free The Angels' Share by Maya Hess Page B

and made a silly expression.
    ‘Did I catch anything, she asks. Talking of which, I’d better check on the sauce.’ Lewis left the room and Liz sat down on the opposite side of the inglenook.
    ‘He’s pleased with himself,’ she said. ‘He got a massive haul, most of which is in the freezer, and he’s given away some of the cod. You could take some back with you, if you like.’ That sweet smile again, lighting up her delicate features beneath a cap of trimmed blonde hair.
    ‘Thanks,’ I said, not really wanting any. The few provisions I bought earlier had to be tinned because I didn’t have a refrigerator.
    Our conversation drifted between life on the island versus a London existence and the benefits of living in a warm climate. I had got as far as telling her that I had travelled from southern Spain but was loath to reveal much more about myself in case it somehow filtered through to Ethan Kinrade upon his return. Then Lewis announced that dinner was ready and Liz guided me through to the dining room where we were greeted by a small, round oak table laden with a colourful feast. But my reprieve from awkward questions was short-lived and, as Lewis was tucking into the starter of crab cakes and chilli dressing, he asked eagerly about my arrival at Niarbyl. Clearly, my dinner invitation had been for no other reason than to find out about their new neighbour.
    ‘I was telling Liz about your great-uncle Ethan up at Creg-ny-Varn. We’ve seen him around locally a few times. He hardly looks old enough to have a great niece.’ Lewis poured three glasses of chilled Pinot Grigio and raised his glass. ‘To new neighbours,’ he said and Liz echoed his toast although in a slow, thoughtful voice. ‘So tell us, what’s the chap like? As I mentioned earlier, he’s quite an enigma around here. None of the locals seem to know anything about him.’
    ‘Well,’ I began, slipping a piece of the delicious starter in my mouth so that whatever I said would have to be brief. ‘He does like to keep himself to himself.’ I chewed the crab slowly. ‘Mmm, is there tarragon in this?’
    Lewis nodded. ‘We’ve not seen a Mrs Kinrade. Do you have a great-aunt?’
    ‘Parsley, too? Perhaps a dash of mustard?’ I took a long sip of wine in an attempt to buy extra seconds. ‘No, he has no wife,’ I slipped in before asking where Lewis learnt to cook.
    ‘Self-taught, aren’t you, darling? Purely an accident of living a bachelor’s life in London and trying to impress the women with your domestic skills.’ Liz laughed and leaned back in her chair. ‘I was more impressed by your legal skills, however.’ They exchanged winks and I made a grab for the subject change.
    ‘You’re a lawyer?’
    ‘When it suits him,’ Liz answered on Lewis’s behalf. ‘He prefers bobbing about on his boat to battling in court.’
    ‘Can’t say I blame you,’ I added. ‘Do you have offices in London? Do you commute?’ My questions came thick and fast.
    ‘When I have to, yes. I have a practice there and also on the island so I flit between the two. When I get off the twin-prop at Ballasalla airport, it’s like something in me unplugs with the first breath of Manx air.’ Lewis certainly seemed to relish his island life.
    ‘And what about you, Liz? Are you from the island?’
    ‘Originally, yes. I went to London to study photography, met Lewis and after spending a few hectic years together, we decided to live up here as much as we could. My work’s flexible. I’m away quite a lot on shoots.’
    ‘How interesting.’ And that wasn’t a lie just to keep the conversation off Ethan Kinrade. I’d always been fascinated by photography. ‘What’s your speciality?’
    ‘Nude women,’ she replied directly and began to clear the plates, knowing that she had set my mind spinning just as much as theirs were whizzing, frantic for my personal story and details of Ethan Kinrade.
    *   *   *
    Lewis had roasted the freshly caught dogfish with