Crystal Island , livre ebook

Austin Macauley Publishers - Gillian Leggat

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124 pages

English

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Who is Amanda Patters really? What is her actual purpose for sending ten 'seekers' to an idyllic but extremely remote Indian Ocean island? Why would anyone want to spend seventy days completely cut off from the world?Through the eyes of her protagonist, Sarah Blake, Gillian Leggat explores life on a remote island which has its fair share of dangers and dramas, explores human nature when it is stripped of all 21st-century conveniences and delves into fundamental questions about life.Good is pitted against evil as two groups with vastly different purposes battle it out for the conquest not only of souls but also of bodies. Which group will ultimately triumph, and at what cost to both the individual 'seekers' and the local inhabitants? Will justice prevail? And will any of the characters finally discover the true meaning of life?This thought-provoking original novel will appeal to readers who enjoy surprises as they journey with the characters to search for answers to life's mysteries.

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Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers
Date de parution	30 novembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781398409675
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

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Crystal Island
Gillian Leggat
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-11-30
Crystal Island About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three
About the Author
Gillian Leggat is the prolific author of more than seventy published books. Crystal Island is her fifth title with Austin Macauley. Gillian's career as a writer and English teacher spans many decades. Presently she tutors students preparing for the Cambridge Examinations. She has designed and delivered a variety of writing courses for an adult education centre based in Cape Town, where she lives. She has three adult children and one grandchild. Gillian enjoys attending cultural events, being involved in her local church and walking on the beach.
Dedication
For Jennie, Robert, Susan and Clara
Copyright Information ©
Gillian Leggat (2020)
The right of Gillian Leggat to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398409668 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398409675 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Chapter One
Had it not been for her anxiety about time galloping forward like the favourite race-horse, Sarah would not have been so desperate about seeking a new direction in her life. Defeat was not an option for her. Divorced. Jobless. Directionless. But determined. Her pick-me-up coffee lay cooling on the table while she flipped through the classifieds for the ideal job, the one that would take the edge off her loneliness, give her life some purpose and make her feel better about what she had done.
Some days, she regretted her impulsive decision to resign from her teaching post. At these times, she found herself wondering where her life was going and what she was doing on this earth. Other days, her future lay before her like a vast, shifting ocean. When she looked ahead, possibilities beckoned her tantalisingly, promising her some excitement and variety.
This particular Friday, April 15 th , 2010, she felt rather reckless, on the look-out for an ad with a guarantee of adventure: a completely out-of-her-comfort-zone opportunity that would spice up her life.
Her eyes flicked down column after column of job offers, but none of them appealed to her. There were ads by the dozen for waitressing, many ‘business opportunities’ that sounded suspiciously like pyramid schemes and some colourfully-worded appeals for ‘hostesses’ which made her cheeks burn. To put it mildly, none of these ads would get her any closer to her quest for significance!
She was about to toss the paper aside when a large square advertisement dominating two columns in the personal section caught her eye: ’Discover your destiny. Explore Crystal Island with fellow-seekers. Meet at the White Community Hall at 19:00 on Friday April 15 th to uncover the true meaning of life. ’
However mind-numbingly clichéd the ad might be, her curiosity was piqued; besides, she had nothing better to do that night and she rather liked the idea of being surrounded by ‘fellow-seekers’ who, like her, might be searching to discover their sense of purpose.
A glance at her watch told her that she didn’t have much time. Reluctantly discarding her caffeine, she made a lightning-quick change into some jeans and a sea-blue top that reminded her of carefree holidays, dabbed some blush on her sallow cheeks and tried unsuccessfully to obliterate the dark lines below her eyes with a touch of base. Pulling a comb through her limp brown hair which she had intended to wash that night, she decided her lick-and-polish effort would just have to do. She did ask herself in a mildly ironic way about what all these mundane daily details had to do with the ‘true meaning of life’. Sighing, she went to the kitchen where she rustled up a ham sandwich and made for the car. Pity her daily actions were filled with such necessary but insignificant trivia. Maybe this meeting and this mysterious island destination would change all that.
But as she travelled towards the meeting-place for would-be ‘seekers’, she considered the nature of that eye-catching advertisement a little more carefully. Had she lost her senses! Was considering this opportunity the most brainless thought she had ever had! Disturbing images of cults and sects flashed through her mind as she nibbled her food in between gear changes and stop streets. Then and there, she planned her exit strategy: parking facing away from the hall and sitting near the back would be her ticket to freedom.
A crowd was the last thing she had expected: the packed parking ground and the car-lined streets around the hall were a big surprise. When she did finally make it inside, in keeping with her scheme for escape, she managed to find a seat near the back and as a bonus, on the aisle. The stage was empty except for an armless upholstered black chair and a microphone. The crowd seemed to be holding its breath, wondering, as she was, what on earth they were all doing there. Just one look at the austere chair on the stage would have convinced anyone with half a brain that entertainment was hardly on the cards for this evening!
At exactly 7 pm, a tall, stern-looking woman walked purposefully out of the wings. Her fitting, knee-length black skirt, tailored black jacket and trim white blouse suggested that she meant business. Her black hair was severely styled and tucked neatly behind her ears. A single ornament adorned the lapel of her jacket: a large crystal brooch in the shape of an island.
She stood in front of the microphone, her feet slightly apart and her back rod-straight. Her clear, firm tone rang out above the up-turned heads: “Welcome to the Crystal Island presentation. Let me introduce myself: Amanda Patters is my name and it is my job to inform you about the nature of your forthcoming challenge. You are welcome to ask questions at the end of my presentation; however, anyone impolite enough to interrupt me will be ejected from the hall.” For the first time, Sarah noticed the black-clad men stationed in various strategic positions. There were about ten of them. Their intimidating presence made her wonder about her carefully planned exit strategy. But although she was feeling mildly uncomfortable, she decided to focus on the imposing presence on the stage. As she watched the woman casting her eyes imperiously around the rows of gathered ‘seekers’, she realised that she reminded her of one of those old-fashioned, strict headmistresses in the school-girl stories of her childhood.
When Amanda was satisfied that she had everyone’s attention, she continued: “You are, of course, welcome to leave at any stage. No-one is keeping you in this place against your will” - there was a slight hint at a smile as she paused dramatically - “and no-one is forcing you to listen to me, even if it is for your benefit.” The mere presence of the men-in-black contradicted what she was so glibly telling them. But still, Sarah stayed put. Now that her curiosity was aroused, she wanted to stick this out to the very end. Amanda’s smile broadened now, almost hypnotic with its promise of as yet unrevealed rewards. “Before I continue, I wish to impress on all of you the importance of this moment in your lives. Choosing to go on this expedition may turn out to be the most momentous decision you have ever made.”
“Oh, please,” someone behind Sarah hissed, “excuse the clichés!”
“Cut the emotive hoo-ha and tell us what we’re in for,” shouted a tall dark-haired man in front of her.
There were a few jeers and hisses after that and a couple of the men-in-black stepped forward, their arms folded. The crowd didn’t seem inclined to provoke these burly presences, so Amanda continued, only having to raise her voice slightly: “Down to the basics then: you want practical details, you can have them.” Even from her position right at the back, Sarah could see that Amanda was pursing her lips. Her voice was stridently commanding when she continued: “Crystal Island is in the Indian ocean, 13 degrees east and 10 degrees south. It is an isolated place. Before you depart, you will not see any pictures of the island, and you will certainly not find it anywhere on the internet, so don’t even try the search engines.”
How was that even possible in today’s world! Was this woman from Mars! Clearly, Sarah wasn’t the only one who didn’t like what she was hearing. There was a scraping of chairs and the first - rather sizeable - group began to hurry out of the hall. Sarah glanced around nervously, but the men-in-black remained, poker-faced, at their stations. Amanda waited until the deserters had all gone before calmly continuing: “All tropical Indian ocean islands have the requisite white beaches and palm trees. This island is no exception. However, I