-8-

The Story of Neville Parker and Sophie Chambers, aka Rebecca Walmslow.

Neville should have expected it, really; he and Florence had slowly begun falling in love with one another after the last two years she had been in witness protection. The pair of them had been travelling for the last month, and slowly they had started looking for smaller jobs to support themselves; there was plenty of logic in that since their bank accounts would not be enough.

But, Florence had also told him it was another way to see the world, from different perspectives, and teach them new skills. At first, Neville had resisted, but then he had seen her point of view, just like he had when she'd encouraged him to explore island life on Saint Marie. They had both gotten jobs as waiting staff in a small restaurant that was similar to Catherine's back in Saint Marie.

Right now the restaurant was closed, and everyone was cleaning the place up ready for the next service.

"Neville, I've wanted to ask you, but I never got the chance until I saw the way you reacted when you saw that blonde woman," Florence had said.

Neville grimaced. Last service, he had almost dropped a tray of food for customers when he spotted a young slender blonde woman wearing a red dress; if it wasn't for Florence's steady hand, it would have happened.

"It's a long story, Florence. How come Darlene, Naomi, and Catherine didn't say anything on Saint Marie?" Neville was genuinely curious why they hadn't done that. They had seen first-hand the results of what Sophie had done, and since they'd ganged up on him after spending so much time trying to go to the effort of getting him and Florence together, and to make him wake up and climb out of his fears.

Neville had prided himself on his newfound confidence gained over the four years he'd lived and worked on Saint Marie, but in many ways, he hadn't stopped being the scared man he had been when he'd arrived before Florence arrived into his life.

"Say what?" Florence asked, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"It's a long story, Florence," Neville sighed as he opened up the box he kept all of his worst memories locked away inside. "The Christmas after you left Saint Marie, I met a young woman from Britain. She was a tourist. Her name was Sophie Chambers," Neville paused as he remembered the staged meeting at the airport when he'd accidentally bashed Sophie's elbow with his mother's travel case, before she began worming her way into his life. "We started seeing each other over the next year. We seemed so great together and I began falling in love with her."

"And it didn't work out?" Florence put her hand on his shoulder; she was partly pleased that it hadn't, but she wondered what had made him react so violently.

"No. Sophie was a criminal, Florence," Neville heard Florence inhale in surprise. "Her real name is Rebecca Walmslow. She grew up in a foster home in Manchester with her younger sister, Grace. At some point in their lives, they became drug couriers. Rebecca became ill and she left a job to Grace, who took them to a dealer called Darren Biggs. Something went wrong and Grace was forced to murder him. We arrested her pretty quickly, and she was sent to prison. But what I didn't know was one of my officers, Andy Buckley, was secretly giving Biggs information."

"What?" Florence said.

Neville sagged. Even now Andy's betrayal still stung him. "Andy and I were friends, Florence," he said, his voice low with pain. "We did pub quizzes together, but he was having money troubles but he didn't tell me. I could have helped."

"Some people don't want it, Neville," Florence whispered sympathetically, "So what happened?"

"With Sophie? She had come to the island to get revenge on me. She came to destroy my life, and she nearly did. At the same time, she learnt about what Andy had done, and she tried to destroy his. She leaked information to the police about Andy's corruption and they began investigating him, and he came to Saint Marie as well to hide out."

"What?" Florence couldn't believe this. "What made him think that was a good idea? He knew the police were looking for him, and he thought it would be a good idea to hide?"

"He was desperate," Neville didn't intend to defend Andy, "while he was there he broke into my shack while I had my back turned and he stole my mobile, and he cloned it. There was a team in Britain investigating him and they wanted to get in touch with me, and he intercepted the emails."

"But that makes no sense; if he was hoping they would stop trying to call you then he'd be in for a disappointment. They'd just have to get in touch with the Commissioner, and he wouldn't be impressed, and then you'd find out your phone was cloned from there," Florence pointed out while she cleaned the tables.

"I don't understand it, either Florence," Neville shook his head as he remembered his own disbelief and his fury when he heard Andy's excuses. "He claimed he wasn't thinking but he had done it."

"How did you find out about him?"

This was the part of the story that Neville hated. "Sophie had been around me for months, coming and going as she pleased. During one of her stays, a criminologist set a nasty, sinister game where someone died. I knew it was him, but I wasn't able to prove it. The criminologist loved playing games, winding me up. When I got back to the shack, I was not in a good mood, and I found a book gifted to his number one fan waiting for me," Neville said.

Florence flinched, knowing if it were her, she would be furious. "What happened?" She whispered.

"I went to confront him. I was furious, but I didn't know Sophie had decided this was her opportunity. She followed me, and after I left she killed him and set the scene up to make me look even more guilty. I was arrested the next day," Neville finished quietly.

"No!"

"Yes. I spent two days in the station cell, and a police officer came from Britain to investigate. She didn't do anything Florence, she believed I'd done it while she ignored the evidence more had happened, and I was taken to the Saint Marie prison," Neville said, looking into his girlfriend's horrified eyes.

"I don't know what to say, what happened next?" Florence asked faintly.

"I worked out how Cartwright, the criminologist was murdered, at around the same time the Commissioner and the team had realised who was responsible, too; they'd learnt a fair-haired woman was seen in the same place where Cartwright was murdered, and they looked into my past cases, particularly the Darren Bigg's murder."

"And they realised who Sophie was?"

"Yes," Neville looked down.

Florence wrapped her arms around him after putting everything she was doing down. "You don't have to say anything more…"

"No, I want to. After I was released, I went back to the shack and caught her; she called Harry stupid," Neville said, glad to hear Florence's angry snarl at the insult towards Harry, "And I laid down how everything she had done was staged, and she told me she had been too ill to meet Biggs' but she blamed me for what happened to her sister, even though she could have stepped forward."

"Yes, now I think about it, why didn't she?"

"She said she was a coward," Neville said simply. "But after she was arrested I was in a funk that lasted two weeks; I was so out of it, I nearly ignored another murder happening right underneath my nose, but I met her in prison to get a few answers from her. She had never cared about me but there had been times I had made her happy, but after that, I never wanted to see her again as long as I lived. But after the whole mess, I found it impossible to think about dating again; even when an old flame confronted me - Zoe, you remember how I told you about her and the crabs?" Florence nodded, a brief look of amusement flashing across her face at the reminder, along with an exasperated eye roll, "Anyway, I just found it hard to put my trust in anyone again. I was so scared that I nearly turned away from you; if it weren't for the team, then I would have made one of the worst mistakes in my life."

Florence wrapped her arms around him sympathetically, and she made a promise if Rebecca Walmslow tried to chase after her Neville again, she would kill her.