The lines of communication were now open, and we had a mutual respect for one another. After my impressive argument, he said he was keen to know more so I seized the opportunity and suggested we go out for coffee. This became a regular thing once a week and I said a silent prayer of thanks to my friend for putting me forwards to join. The romantic feelings I had for Thomas were not instantaneous, they developed over time. Initially, I was just so intrigued with how accomplished he was and how well he had done for himself given the unbelievably rocky start in life he had endured. He was studying towards his master’s in finance and had a clear plan on what he wanted to do when he left university – he wanted to be a financial adviser with a view one day of owning his own practice.
I admired how driven and focussed he was and owe a lot to him as it had the effect of rubbing off on me. I was well aware I was more aloof and flightier and there was always the danger that I might not have made it to the end of the course but, with Thomas’ encouragement, I stayed on track.
We graduated at the same time and by this point there was a strong bond between us. Neither one of us was ready to admit there were romantic feelings involved but it was clear to all of our friends and us, had we only been more open with one another. It took the graduation party and copious amounts of alcohol for the truth and the depth of our feelings to be revealed. Once those words were spoken and we both knew where we stood, we became inseparable. We were young yes but very much in love and decided to make a go of it and the rest as they say is history! When Michael came along that was just the icing on the cake.
I have toyed with the idea of confessing to Thomas over the years that I knew him before we met at university. In fact, I have played out full conversations in my head but each time it falls apart. The whole situation is too weird. How could he possibly accept that I witnessed his darkest moment as a young teenager then recognised him later in life and pursued a romantic relationship with him at university? What on earth would he think? And all those occasions over the years when I have had to listen to his edited version of events when he has talked about his upbringing, the pain visible to see. He has tried so hard to shield me from it, either not wanting to go there or too ashamed about how dysfunctional and traumatic it all was. And all the while I knew exactly what he had endured and was unable to say anything. It has been the elephant in the room. We both knew what he went through and neither one of us has been able to talk about it.
There were moments at the start of the relationship I did think I should tell him. It felt like a heavy weight I was carrying around on my shoulders. However, each time I considered talking about it, I talked myself out of it – how would our fledgling romance survive a confession of that magnitude? I was equally concerned about what effect talking about his past would have on him. I knew he had been counselled by George and he had clearly done a great job, otherwise I’m quite sure Thomas wouldn’t have been mentally ready to undertake any further education. But even still, maybe his way of coping with everything was to forget about it and move forwards? It was not my place to go digging and cause him untold hurt and pain.
These past few weeks, however, the tide has turned. I had let myself believe his past was dead and buried. After all, he has established a great financial advisory practice and everything has been going so well in our lives, including Michael, who has become such a confident young man and a joy to be around. However, I was wrong. George has reappeared and, in his presence, my husband has started to fall apart. It is completely out of character for him to just take off in the way he has done. It is obvious he hasn’t dealt with all his problems from years ago.
But, the fact remains, I haven’t been completely honest with him; I have maintained a secret from him for all these years. I glance in his direction and he acknowledges me with a lukewarm smile, his face woeful. I reciprocate and feign the brightest smile I can muster. The car rumbles on, our destination yet to be revealed.
CHAPTER 20
Thomas
I
gaze upon the faces seated in the car and realise I have much to thank each and every one of them for. I didn’t expect Janey to accompany me on my trip up north and by a twist of fate here she is, and it hits me all at once how grateful I am for that fact. My sister Juliet flanks me on the other side and equally it feels so reassuring to have here with me too. And then there is George.
It occurs to me that we have been through a lot together, George and I. Whilst I did not appreciate him turning up so unceremoniously in the middle of the night not so long ago, without his poking and prodding, it is highly unlikely I would have contemplated taking the trip up here. I had been beyond shocked when we stood face to face that night but if I am honest with myself, I always knew that this day was coming. I have once again put my trust in him as I did all those years ago when I was just a boy. He has stressed that there is unfinished business for me here on Skye which I must face up to and I will once again be led by him.
George really came through for me when I hit my lowest ebb. He knew all those years ago when I was due to leave the hospital (whilst I felt torn about leaving mother, Juliet, and James), that I could never go back to the croft. He liaised with all the relevant authorities on my behalf and, with my agreement, placed me in foster care.
It was very strange to begin with, starting all over again in a strange environment with people I didn’t know. However, in time I began to think of it as my home. My foster parents were Paul and Rachael Sands; a young couple who sadly were unable to have children of their own. They provided a safe haven and were very encouraging when it came to pursuing my education. They would tell me to ‘aim high’ and that ‘anything was possible if I put my mind to it.’ This, of course, was in stark contrast to the upbringing I’d experienced on the croft, so it was hard for those words to sink in initially. I had a very skewed and poor opinion of myself and it took a long time before the tide began to turn.
With the ongoing support my foster parents showed me and with George’s help too (as I continued to work with him), my grades started to improve. So much so, at the end of high school I was being encouraged to apply for university. So, I have much to be thankful for. My education has allowed me to pursue a successful career in the financial sector and, more importantly, I met the love of my life at university.
I am still in contact with Paul and Rachael, and we meet up occasionally. They continue to foster kids and, as far as I am concerned, they deserve recognition in this life and the next for they don’t take on the babies and the cute little kids everyone wants; they ask for the problem teenagers (exactly like I had been). They are determined to make a difference in that teenager’s life and set them on a new trajectory. It is a calling with them to want to help and I will be eternally grateful to them.
Janey has just glanced over in my direction and has given me a reassuring smile, but I find it impossible to reciprocate, managing only a half-hearted smile in return. This is because we are traversing roads which are all too familiar to me and our destination needs no explanation, for I know where we are headed – Neist Point.
I am puzzled. Why is he bringing me out here? What good could it possibly do and what is he hoping to achieve by this?
“Stop the car!” It’s out before I even think about it. George clocks me in the rear-view mirror but continues to drive on. “Stop the car I said!” I emphasise the words and this time they have the desired effect – he slows the car down and pulls over when it’s safe to do so.
“Are you OK?” he asks.
“Am I OK? Hmm let’s think about that for a moment. What do you think, George? You are clearly headed towards Neist Point and I can’t for the life of me think why! What good could it possibly do, going out there?”
“Remember when I told you to put your trust in me? Well, this is one of those occasions. Please, trust me, Thomas.”
Janey gives my hand a squeeze. With her other hand, she places it on my chest and gently pushes and it registers with me that I am
sat on the edge of the seat, so I shift backwards.
“Thomas,” Juliet whispers in my direction, “it’s OK, we are all here for you.” I release my hand from Janey’s grip as it has gone decidedly clammy. I ignore both Janey and Juliet’s advances.
“George, you are seriously wasting everyone’s time here.”
“Thomas really, just calm down, please. We have both agreed you have to face up to your past. Neist Point is the location where you experienced a very traumatic event, so it seems as good a place as any to start your journey. It’s time, Thomas.” ‘It’s time.’ There are those two little words again. He appears to take my silence for an unspoken agreement and the car revs up once more.
‘I can do this,’ I silently tell myself. There’s no need to get panicked. We are only going to a local beauty spot; an innocuous landmark, nothing to get worked up about. Yes, it was the site where I lost my beautiful Caroline and where father struck me with that ferocious blow, but it is just a place, nothing more, nothing less. Then why do I feel so on edge? I feel Janey’s hand guiding me back once more and I realise that I have been sitting stiff as a board on the edge of my seat once again.
This is silly! I am a grown man now and I have the support of everyone around me. Come on, Thomas, I will myself, dig deep. The car slows as we become snarled in the queue of traffic looking for parking spaces. In the distance I can see Neist Point Lighthouse and the sea beyond. My stomach lurches.
I feel as though I have shifted into autopilot mode. There is no synchronicity between my mind and body. I have left my seat and joined the others as they exit the car, having now found a parking space. It feels as though my body is going through the motions. But I fear if I over-think it, there is no way I would have left the car. My legs and feet feel like they are made of lead, but I lift them anyway, ignoring the resistance. I am vaguely aware of George giving me a pat on the back. It seems oddly ridiculous given the circumstances. As though a pat on the back from my old therapist is going to somehow lift the years of pain and anguish. I refrain from telling him so and trudge on anyway.
The last time I was here was as a fourteen-year-old boy, but I know the route and the landscape well. As I walk on this well-trodden path, I find myself switching back and forth between fourteen-year-old Thomas and present-day Thomas. It comes flooding back to me, the wild snowstorm and menacing winds. And then the feeling of being chased washes over me. All at once I am almost convinced father is behind me, hot on my tail. My consciousness switches and I am back to present day and I take in my surroundings and my companions. No need to panic, I tell myself. This is bound to happen. I haven’t been back here since that day. Of course painful emotions will rise to the surface, it’s to be expected.
I am quietly amused as I notice I am being monitored. George is the most brazen of the three, not even trying to hide the backwards glances. We cover more ground, and I can’t help but keep on switching back and forth, back and forth. Today we have cool, crisp weather with very little wind (in stark contrast to 12th February 1998); the kind of weather which draws people out and, as I look around, I see this is very much the case. It is nothing like the hordes of tourists which descend in the summer months but there are quite a number of people out today. They all appear connected in a fashion – they are out for a nice jaunt to take in the splendour of this beauty spot. Yet here I am, nervously treading the path I walked some twenty years ago, only too well aware of what occurred at the end of the path. My heart feels blackened and once again I am aware of how weighted my feet feel. I pause for a moment then gaze ahead.
CHAPTER 21
A
ll at once my throat constricts; it feels as though there is no air circulating and I simply cannot breathe. I grasp at my chest area as though this very action will breathe life back into my lungs but with nothing left in me, I slump to my knees.
The cause of my temporary paralysis – Caroline. She stands there as she did all those years ago, leaning against the lighthouse for support. I try to call to her, but nothing comes out. Janey is by my side and with her help I manage to stand erect once more, but I am oddly unaware of anyone’s presence apart from Caroline’s. It feels as though everyone else has melted away into the background and the only two people left on earth are her and I. The scene has a dream-like quality to it and I feel detached from my body as if sensing everything around me is unreal. Then she calls out to me.
Now my feet no longer feel like lead, quite the opposite in fact. Life is pulsing in my heart and lungs once more and I have a spring in my step as I respond to her call. She needs me. My little sister needs me again and, as I did all those years ago, I rush to be by her side. It doesn’t seem to register with me that this is futile, that Caroline is dead. She has appeared before me and I have an overpowering urge to go to her and to protect her as I had failed to do so before in such spectacular fashion.
“Caroline!” I yell, stumbling as I go, oblivious to the terrain underfoot, my only focus being to get to her. “Is it really you?”
“Of course it is! Who else would it be?” In no time I am by her side and I hold her in a tight embrace. I am vaguely aware of a faint voice in my deep subconscious telling me that this is not real, it can’t be real, but I smother that voice, not wanting anything to destroy this moment of happiness. Tears of joy and elation roll freely down my cheeks. I wipe them away and take a good look at my beautiful sister. She meets my stare and melts my heart with her kind words. “I have missed you so much, Thomas, I have missed you all. Please, don’t leave me again.”
“Never, Caroline, you have my word, I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.”
“Oh Thomas!” This time it is Caroline who goes to hug me, and I am only too willing to be held. Space and time have dissolved and all that remains are Caroline and I in our own little private universe. I have my old Caroline back, not the Caroline with a stricken face full of fear before she was so savagely pushed over the cliff edge. Standing before me is the happy-go-lucky, carefree Caroline.
A firm hand presses down onto my shoulder. That alone was not enough to rouse me, but it was shortly accompanied by someone repeating my name over and over and it was becoming louder and louder. More than slightly perturbed, I turn in search of its source. I find George hovering just inches away from me.
“What is it?” I say very abruptly.
“I need to speak to you, Thomas.”
“Not right now, can’t you see I’m busy?”
“It’s about that.”
“What do you mean ‘it’s about that?’ For God sake, man, give me some space. Can’t you see what is happening here? Caroline is back, so forgive me for not jumping at your beck and call!”
George is having none of it. He grabs me quite forcefully this time, ensuring that there is nowhere for me to escape to. “Thomas, please listen to me. There is no Caroline and there is no Juliet. They are figments of your imagination; characters created by your subconscious mind!!”
I freeze on the spot, his words echoing through me: ‘There is no Caroline and there is no Juliet.’ What is he talking about? How can this be? What is he trying to say? For reassurance I gaze ahead again and there are my beautiful sisters, as plain as day. Janey will back me up. I plead to her; “Janey, please tell him he’s making this up! They are real. Please!” She walks towards me and holds me.
When she lets go her words shatter me. “Thomas, he is not lying to you. Caroline and Juliet are not real. They do not exist. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
I lose all ability to stand erect and crumple into a heap on the concrete path. “No, NO! NO!” I yell to no-one in particular. This is so far beyond my field of comprehension. It is completely unbearable. These two people whom I trust implicitly are telling me I am mentally unstable and have crafted siblings who do not exist? I cannot take it in, it is inconceivable. They are telling me that, what, my whole life has been built on fantasy? Impossible!
Unwilling to face reality, I decide to ignore h
im and turn once more to face Caroline. But just as I start to re-engage with her, Janey interjects, obviously aware I am choosing to ignore George’s words. “Please Thomas, you have to listen to him! She is not real. She is not here, Thomas! Neither Caroline nor Juliet are real.”
Try as I might, I am unable to simply ignore Janey. “Can’t you see her? Or hear her? I have just had a full conversation with her!! She is stood with us, leaning onto the side of the lighthouse! Please tell me you can see her?” But sadly, I am met with silence.
“Janey, we had a chat only this morning about Caroline. I told you father had killed her and you were full of sympathy. What was all that about if you don’t even believe that she is real?”
“The truth is, Thomas, I have only just discovered that they don’t exist myself. Throughout the years, you have often talked about your siblings but since we have never visited Skye, I have never had cause to question their existence. That was until this morning. You were openly conversing with Juliet and the only people at the breakfast table were you, George, and me. I have never seen you do anything like that before. There have been occasions in the past when I’ve thought I heard you speaking to someone but when I approach you, it always stops. Also Thomas, please remember when you told me about Caroline being killed, at this point I didn’t know the truth about your ‘siblings’. You have always talked about them so why wouldn’t I believe in their existence?
“However, I had a quick word with George before we set off today because I had been so alarmed about you chatting with Juliet at breakfast. He explained everything to me. I am so sorry, Thomas, but they simply do not exist.” I hear her words, but nothing sinks in. It feels as though I am in shock and floundering, unsure where to turn next.
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