Page 152 of Take Me Away

Isla’s smile is soft, private almost. ‘I don’t think a woman’s happiness should rely on a man. Every woman’s happiness comes from inside them, the truth they own, their belief in themselves. But does being with Kit add to my happiness? Yes. Do I plan to be with him for ever after?’ Another glance to where I stood next to the camera. ‘Then, yes, I do.’

I duck my head, unable to meet the dozens of eyes I can feel on me.

‘What happens next for you, Isla?’ Fiona asks. ‘Will you continue acting? Return to London, Hollywood?’

‘I’ll act when the right projects come along.’ Her face lights up with quiet passion. ‘I’m working with organisations that support young people in the industry. It broke my heart when I discovered there were other women Vale had manipulated. I thought there would be relief that I wasn’t alone. But it wasn’t relief, it was just a kind of sadness. This industry – no, not even this industry, the world as a whole – needs to open their eyes to the enormous marginalisation women as a whole experience. It’s not just equal pay. Equal opportunity. It’s about equal experiences. I plan to make sure that no woman will ever have to silently live through what I did.’

She smiles directly into the camera, and for a moment it feels like she’s looking right at me, right at all of us gathered in this small village pub.

‘Most importantly, I’m building a life that’s honest, safe,’ she continues. ‘And this time…’ She takes a deliberate breath. ‘This time, I’m not leaving.’

The pub exhales collectively. Someone sniffles loudly. Jude thumps the bar with his palm.

‘To Isla!’ he calls, raising his glass high.

‘To Isla!’ echoes around the room, a chorus of voices and clinking glasses. Someone near the back attempts to play a few tinny notes of the Poldark theme on their phone and gets immediately shushed.

My phone pings.

Piper Chen: Nailed it.

Maisie looks up at me, eyes wide with wonder. ‘We’re famous now, aren’t we?’

I chuckle, ruffling her hair. ‘Not quite.’

‘She said your name on the telly,’ she insists. ‘Three times!’

‘Only because she forgot the word “idiot”,’ Jude cuts in, making her giggle, and Dad, who’s been silent most of the time, frown chisel-deep as he’s listened to her confessions, punches him lightly on the arm.

‘Uncle Jude!’ Maisie rolls her eyes, then rests her head against my arm, suddenly thoughtful. ‘She was really brave, wasn’t she?’

I watch Isla on the screen as the interview wraps up – still answering questions, still smiling that smile that costs her something but comes more easily now. Still telling her truth, and the world is finally listening.

‘Yeah,’ I say softly. ‘The bravest person I know.’

The interview fades to black, replaced with white text:

THREE MONTHS AFTER THIS INTERVIEW WAS FILMED, MARCUS VALE WAS FORMALLY CHARGED WITH SEXUAL ASSAULT AND COERCIVE CONTROL OF FOUR WOMEN.

When her key slips into the door, Maisie is fast asleep although refusing to leave the couch. I’m dozing myself, while pretending not to read the romantasy that Isla left by the bed.

‘What are you still doing up?’ Her smile as she comes through the door is like switching a fucking light on.

‘Shh.’ I point to Maisie and Isla nods, raises her index finger to her lip and hams up walking across the floor like she’s the baddie in a pantomime. I roll my eyes but then pat for her to come and sit next to me.

She sits on me, legs either side of my hips. Her mouth hungrily searches mine. ‘You taste of city,’ I grumble, hands holding her down onto me.

‘You smell of Sea Salt Bay,’ she murmurs back.

‘Fish and brine?’ I nip her lower lip with my teeth.

‘All my favourite things.’ But then she pulls back, hand across her mouth, and looks like she’s going to hurl.

‘What on earth?’ I’m no longer keeping quiet. Maisie yawns, stretches and then opens her mouth to catch flies again.

‘Sorry.’ Isla looks a little sheepish. ‘I think we’re going to have a problem.’

‘Uh huh. And what might that be?’