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commercial fishermen. Fred Whilley was a quiet man, by all accounts, and well-liked. But his wife was a monster. Even Lee, as a child, had heard the rumours of neglect, abuse and even violence towards Art Whilley. He was a small boy for his age. Lee remembered Wayne and his friends bullying him. Art spent all his time in the schoolhouse, never playing with the other kids, just reading and reading. When the bell went for end of school, Art Whilley would scramble for the door, yank it open and run as fast as he could, with Wayne and his friends in pursuit. They thought it was a game. Lee thought it was cruel.

Lee never made sense of how Wayne and Art came to be friends. Art Whilley eventually lived on his own by the gravel pit. His mother died, followed by his father, and all Art had left was the small dirty cabin he lived in, and the old net shed full of his father’s tools and rusty marine parts.

Soon the biker gang were partying at Art Whilley’s house after racing up and down the quarter-mile strip of tarmac behind the gravel pit. The parties were wild and noisy. There were complaints, but the police seemed unable to do anything about it. The biker gang grew in popularity, and Lee remembered how they would leave Art’s place en masse and drive recklessly through town, throwing beer bottles when they were bored and drunk. Soon the rumble of engines on a Saturday evening was a signal for residents to go inside and lock their doors.

After months of being terrorized by the Knights, as the biker gang now called itself, the residents started referring to Art Whilley’s place as Hell’s Half Acre.

Lee remembered confronting his brother.

“C’mon man, people are tired of this shit. Can’t you get them all to calm it down a bit? Talk to Art, get him to stop the parties.”

Wayne laughed. “Not up to Art anymore, bro. I own Hell’s Half Acre now.”

“How come?” Lee asked, suspicious. He was sure Wayne hadn’t bought it legitimately, although his brother was always throwing around wads of cash. Lee had long suspected Wayne was dealing harder drugs than just the odd joint.

Wayne laughed. “Won it in a poker game, man. Lighten up a bit. Come to a party, you’ll have fun. There’s more than beer, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Lee.

Lee knew what he meant. He meant weed and drugs and girls. Even Nadine. She was up there often, partying and doing God knows what. Wayne must have read his mind because he punched his brother in the shoulder.

“Still sad about Nadine? Tell you what, I’ll get her back for you.”

Lee wanted her back. He couldn’t help it. So when she knocked at his door a week later and fixed him with those blue eyes, he’d welcomed her back. Nadine was his girl. Lee wiped from his mind any thoughts of who she’d been with and what she’d done, and even why she was back. It was a fresh start.

Shortly after that, a fire broke out at Hell’s Half Acre. The cabin burned to the ground. Art’s body was never recovered, but many of the subdued partygoers testified he’d been inside. Lee discovered Wayne hadn’t been joking. He was the registered owner of the property. Coffin Cove City, sensing an opportunity to rid the community of the biker gang, the drug problem and a nuisance property all in one go, sued Wayne Dagg.

But Wayne was gone. He’d left Coffin Cove without paying the city a penny. He didn’t say goodbye to Lee, just moved on. The biker gang dispersed too, and the community heaved a collective sigh of relief.

Brambles and weeds soon consumed the scorched earth at Hell’s Half Acre.

Lee had to pay some outstanding property taxes when he applied for a building permit for Hell’s Half Acre. The disinterested clerk who handed him the paperwork didn’t seem to care the property belonged to Wayne.

Over the next six months, Lee worked early in the morning and late at night to clear the land and build a small two-bedroom house. It wasn’t elaborate, but it was new, and Lee had saved enough money to buy some new furniture. The net shed was the only reminder of the past and Lee intended to replace it with a brand-new workshop for his electrical business.

One evening, Lee persuaded Nadine to go for a drive. They left Coffin Cove and drove up towards the highway. When Lee took the left turn towards the gravel pit, Nadine stared at him.

“Why are we going this way?” she demanded. “I want to go back.”

It hadn’t been the celebration Lee was hoping for.

“Are you insane?” Nadine screamed at him when Lee explained what he’d done. “You want me to live at Hell’s Half Acre?”

She’d sobbed, and Lee, bewildered, tried to calm her down.

“It won’t be Hell,” he’d whispered, hugging her tight. “We’ll make it Heaven.” The words sounded corny, even to him.

Finally, Nadine agreed to move in. But things went downhill from there. The economy collapsed in Coffin Cove, and even though Lee would drive anywhere on the island for a booking, many other electricians were looking for the same work.

Nadine managed to get an administrative job at City Hall but fell pregnant with Katie. She didn’t want a baby. She screamed and blamed Lee for their financial predicament and threatened to have an abortion. Lee begged her not to, and to this day, he didn’t know why she didn’t.

Gradually things got back on an even keel. Lee picked up a few contracts from the city. He suspected Dennis Havers pushed the work his way to please Nadine. He’d seen the way Dennis leered at his wife. But they needed the money.

Now, Nadine seemed focused on spending everything he earned.

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