The Angels' Share by Maya Hess

oregano, basil, thyme and garlic and then drizzled it with lemon and olive oil. He served it with sliced potatoes baked with pecorino cheese and a green salad and it was the tastiest fish I had ever eaten. Lewis was obviously passionate about food, although his lean, healthy physique didn’t suggest this.
    ‘How long will you stay on the island?’ Lewis asked, pouring another carefully chosen wine. ‘Are you here for Christmas?’
    ‘No, I hope to have my business taken care of by then.’ I realised my mistake only when the couple both looked up from their food. They paused from eating and waited silently to hear more. ‘But it’s nothing really. I’ve hardly any business at all.’ I was making things worse.
    ‘Business with your great-uncle Ethan?’ Liz asked. She had indulged me with polite chit-chat about her life and interests and, since she had kindly invited me to dinner, it felt churlish not to allow them a glimpse of my mission. What harm could it do to reveal a few basic details? Lewis might even be able to offer me some legal advice regarding my stolen inheritance. I had to get one thing straight though.
    ‘Ethan Kinrade is not my uncle.’
    Two gasps preceded the laying down of cutlery. The pair remained silent, which had the effect of causing me to continue.
    ‘I don’t know who he is, actually. I’m here to find out.’ I sipped my wine, waiting for one of them to speak but they didn’t. ‘Creg-ny-Varn is my father’s…’ – I sipped again, as if to erase my mistake – ‘… was my father’s house. It was my childhood home.’ This information elicited raised eyebrows and Lewis puckered his lips, folding his arms.
    ‘You’ve come back to have a look at your old home then?’ He was satisfied with his assumption.
    ‘Not exactly.’ They knew too much already. I laughed and turned to Liz. ‘Nude women?’ I wanted to change the subject again but they were both busy puzzling over my intentions and ignored my question.
    ‘I can ask at the Post Office.’ Liz shrugged her shoulders, perhaps realising how little she and Lewis knew about the nearby estate’s new owner. ‘The woman there knows everything about everyone.’ She smiled. ‘Too much, I sometimes think.’ Then she received an elbow in the ribs from Lewis.
    ‘No, really. You needn’t bother.’ My covert mission was spilling from between my fingers like ice melting in the sun. Soon there would be no mission because everyone would know my business, including Ethan Kinrade. ‘I’d like to hear more about your photography.’ I peeled apart the layers of potato and melted pecorino. The good food, warmth and company made up for the awkwardness of trying to conceal my situation.
    ‘So aren’t you technically trespassing by staying in the beach cottage? It belongs to Kinrade’s estate.’ Lewis tried to sound affable but the nature of his question caused the back of my neck to prickle. To defend myself, I would have to reveal more of my story.
    ‘Not exactly,’ I began. ‘I’m aware that the cottage belongs to Creg-ny-Varn. I used to spend many hours playing there while my father fished or mended his lobster pots.’ I hesitated, ate more food and drank more wine, but Lewis and Liz were attentive listeners. Nothing short of an earthquake would have distracted them from what I was saying. ‘My father died a few months ago. I haven’t seen him for over a decade.’ I paused again, bowing my head and hoping they would urge me not to continue my painful story. They didn’t. ‘I’m here to find out who’s living in my family home. Simple as that.’
    ‘To find out who has stolen your inheritance, you mean.’ Lewis was stirred by the inkling of a legal case. He blew out through tight lips. ‘That’s a tough one. You really need to see a copy of the will before you go steaming in there.’ He poured more wine. ‘You have no idea if Mr Kinrade is the rightful owner?’
    I shook my head and tried to prevent Lewis from