The Moon Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  Opening my laptop, I took out the letter from the wildlife reserve in Malawi. I reread it, and then, without thinking about it further, replied by email that I would indeed be attending the interview in London.

  Feeling relieved I’d done something – anything – to move my life forwards, I then turned my attention back to Atlantis. Later tonight, I had something planned . . .

  *

  Irritatingly, it was past midnight before I heard Ma’s door close. I waited a good twenty minutes, keeping myself awake by reciting some of the ingredients to Angelina’s remedies and also by reminding myself of the words of the forbidden curse. I had no idea why my brain was determined that I should not forget them, but it prompted me every day to repeat them.

  Finally, putting on my old pair of Uggs and a thick woollen jumper, I took the torch that Ma always left on the bedside table. Leaving my bedroom, I tiptoed along the corridor, then switched on the torch to make my way down the stairs to the ground floor. I went to the key box in the kitchen, extracted the one Ma had used to unlock the lift, then located the panel in the corridor. Having managed to unlock and open it, I shone the torch on the lift door. It was a gamble that Ma wouldn’t hear the clanking and whirring from her suite on the top floor, but at least she was at the furthest end of the corridor.

  I pressed the call button and the lift arrived. I stepped inside and shone my torch on the brass buttons. Pressing the bottom one, I felt the lift give a slight lurch as it headed downwards, coming to a halt only a few seconds later. I pulled open the door to see nothing but complete blackness. Switching my torch back on, I took a step forward, but as my foot touched the concrete below me, the space was suddenly flooded with light.

  I looked around and saw that Ma had been telling the truth about what it contained. The room was more modern basement than damp cellar; low-ceilinged but spacious – perhaps the size of what must be the kitchen above it. The walls were lined with wine racks heaving with bottles and I thought how odd it was that Pa, who only drank wine on high days and holidays, should keep such a vast collection. I wandered round the room, brushing the dust off some of the older bottles and feeling relieved and disappointed at the same time. Whatever it was I’d expected to find, it didn’t seem to be here.

  Then my eyes moved to a moth fluttering near one of the spotlights set into the ceiling. As my gaze travelled back down from the ceiling, I noticed a break in one of the walls below it, which disappeared behind a wine rack. I walked towards the rack.

  ‘There’s no way you can move this, Tiggy,’ I murmured, but I did remove the two middle rows of bottles, then shone my torch through to the wall beyond, illuminating a panel exactly like the one that so successfully hid the lift. I then extracted the row of bottles beneath and saw a small round keyhole set into the wall.

  My heart began to beat faster as I took the lift key and reached through the rack to see if it would fit. It did, and I heard it turn with a metallic click. Clasping the latch, I tried to tug it forward and sideways as I’d done with the panel upstairs and it gave immediately. Sadly, the wine rack was wedged too close to allow any further movement.

  ‘Damn it!’ I exclaimed, and my words echoed around the basement. By now, fatigue was setting in and it took my last shred of energy to lock the panel back into place and put the wine bottles back where I’d found them.

  ‘Not that I should be worrying about doing what I want in a house I part-own,’ I comforted myself as I panted my way back to the lift. As I reached it, I saw that the door was surrounded by a steel frame and that there was another pair of doors that I hadn’t noticed before, because they were currently concealed within the steel surround. There was a button that I’d bet closed them set into the wall just beyond.

  ‘Wow, this is like a bank vault or something,’ I muttered, tempted to press the button, but then realising that if the steel doors did close, I might be trapped down here with no way of contacting the outside world.

  Ten minutes later, after climbing wearily into bed, I lay there plotting how on earth I could investigate further.

  36

  Ma came into my room the next morning carrying the breakfast tray.

  ‘Bon matin, chérie,’ she said as I sat upright and she placed the tray across my knees. ‘How did you sleep?’

  Perhaps it was only my imagination, but I was sure I saw a hint of suspicion in her vivid green eyes.

  ‘I’m feeling very well, thank you. Is it Claudia’s day off today?’

  ‘In fact, she has taken three days off to visit a relative of hers. So it will be just you and me. As I confessed to CeCe when I was staying with her in London, my cooking is very poor, but Claudia has left your special food in the freezer so all I have to do is defrost it.’

  ‘No problem, Ma, and if the worst comes to the worst, I can make us both a nut roast,’ I smiled.

  ‘I hope it won’t come to that,’ said Ma, wrinkling her nose. Like many Parisians, she was a food snob and considered any plate of food without meat to be a travesty. ‘Once you have finished your breakfast, I shall take your blood pressure. You look a little pale today, chérie.’ She studied me and I did my best not to blush under her gaze. ‘Did you not sleep?’

  ‘I slept fine, Ma, really. Actually, I was wondering if you could contact Dr Gerber and ask him to recommend a cardiologist here in Geneva.’

  ‘Ah Tiggy, Dr Gerber died a few months ago, but I will contact the practice, yes. Are you sure you do not wish to stay under Charlie’s care?’

  ‘Yes, I am. I’d like to see whoever the surgery recommends here as soon as possible. I’m going to attend that interview in London and I’d obviously need a clean bill of health if I was offered the job.’

  ‘You know how I feel about that, Tiggy, but you are a grown woman, not a child. So, yes, I will make enquiries for you. Now, please eat your breakfast and I will be back up later.’

  As I ate, I thought about the basement and its impenetrable steel doors and decided I just needed to ask Ma straight out when she returned. Then I heard the landline ring, and a couple of minutes later, Ma appeared again and held out the receiver to me.

  ‘It’s for you. The caller says she’s a friend of yours.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I took it and said, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi, Tiggy, it’s Zara. How are you?’

  ‘Hi, Zara, how nice to hear from you,’ I smiled. ‘I’m much better, thanks. Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m good. I’m at Geneva airport.’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘Can you tell me how to get to your house on the lake?’

  ‘I . . . Zara, how did you get the number?’

  ‘I looked it up on Dad’s mobile.’

  ‘Right. Do your mum and dad know where you are?’

  ‘Er . . . I’ll explain everything when I see you.’

  ‘Hold on a moment . . . She’s in Geneva,’ I mouthed to Ma. ‘Where’s Christian?’

  ‘He’s just dropped Claudia at the airport, so he should still be close by,’ she said.

  Having told Zara to wait by the information desk in Arrivals, Christian was duly called and told to collect her from there.

  ‘What is she doing here, Tiggy? Do her parents know?’ asked Ma.

  ‘I doubt it. She’s a past mistress at running away.’

  ‘Well, we must call Charlie immediately.’

  ‘Could you do it for me, Ma?’

  ‘I can but . . . surely you will want to speak to Charlie yourself?’

  ‘Tell him I’ll get Zara to call him when she’s arrived.’

  ‘D’accord, but . . . Charlie has been so kind to you, Tiggy. Why do you not wish to speak to him?’

  ‘I just . . . don’t.’

  ‘I see.’ Ma gave up. ‘Well, if she is staying, then I shall put her in Ally’s room down the corridor from you, chérie.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Is this child troubled, Tiggy?’

  ‘Zara’s absolutely delightful, but she has a difficult family si
tuation, yes.’

  ‘Well, I hope her arrival will not upset your recovery. She is her parents’ responsibility, not yours. So, I will call her father.’ With that, Ma turned on her elegant heel and left the room.

  *

  ‘Tiggy . . . !’ Zara appeared in my bedroom and walked over to me to give me a hug. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked me, sitting down on my bed.

  ‘I’m completely fine, Zara, but Ma insists on me staying up here most of the time.’

  ‘It’s only for your own good, Tiggy. We all need you well.’

  ‘I am well,’ I said, hearing the hint of petulance in my voice, ‘but more to the point, what on earth are you doing here? Ma’s called your dad to say you’re with us and he said you were to phone him the moment you arrived.’

  ‘I’m amazed he noticed I’d gone, to be honest. I’ve been at home for study leave and I’ve hardly seen him.’

  ‘What about your mum?’

  ‘That’s what’s really weird; she’s up at Kinnaird, Tiggy. Like, of her own accord. I don’t know what’s going on,’ Zara sighed, ‘but something is. You know Mum’s always hated the place, and now suddenly she’s telling Dad she’s going to take the estate in hand because he’s too busy to do it.’

  ‘Then that’s good, isn’t it? It means you can spend more time there too.’

  ‘Yeah, it would, if I’d been invited,’ Zara snarled. ‘Mum said I couldn’t go up there with her, that I had to stay at home and catch up on all the work I missed when I wasn’t at school.’

  ‘I can understand that, Zara. You would be distracted up at Kinnaird.’

  ‘I s’pose so.’ Zara looked out of the window at Lake Geneva. ‘Wow, Tiggy, this place is like a fairy-tale castle. It’s so beautiful, and your ma is really sweet. Christian said he’d teach me to drive the speedboat if I wanted. He’s really fit, isn’t he, Tiggy, even if he’s old.’

  ‘I suppose he is, yes.’ I smiled at her comment. ‘He’s been here all my life as far as I can remember, so I haven’t really noticed.’

  ‘Mind you, your sister Electra called him as we were driving here. He’s not gonna look at me while he’s got a world-famous supermodel on speed dial, is he?’ said Zara with a nonchalant shrug.

  ‘Electra called Christian?’ I was amazed – I hadn’t heard from my sister in months.

  ‘Yeah, what’s she like?’

  ‘Electra’s a force of nature,’ I said and left it at that. We all made it a rule never to discuss our famous sibling with ‘outsiders’. ‘Now, why don’t I show you the room you’re staying in and you can freshen up from your journey?’

  ‘Okay.’

  I led Zara down the sisters’ corridor to Ally’s door.

  ‘It must have been really cool to be one of six girls up here,’ commented Zara as we entered the room. ‘Like being at a fun boarding school all the time. I bet you always had someone to play with,’ she said wistfully. ‘You couldn’t ever have been lonely.’

  ‘I was ill quite a bit as a child, so I spent a lot of time by myself, but you’re right, it was nice to have my sisters around. Now, you need to phone your dad.’

  ‘Okay,’ Zara said, and I could see her eyes were filled with trepidation.

  We walked downstairs together and I led Zara into the kitchen.

  ‘Chérie, what are you doing? You know you are not meant to—’

  ‘Really, Ma,’ I said, ‘I’m feeling perfectly well, I promise. And I’m eating lunch down here with you both after Zara’s phoned her dad.’ I picked up the handset and gave it to her.

  ‘Thanks,’ Zara said and wandered out of the kitchen as she tapped in the number.

  ‘I hope I can trust her to call him,’ I said to Ma, who was crouched beside the oven, peering anxiously at whatever was inside.

  ‘How long does a nut roast take to heat up, Tiggy?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll see to it, Ma.’

  ‘Merci,’ Ma said in relief as Zara arrived back in the kitchen.

  ‘I got Dad’s voicemail, so I left him a message saying I was here with you and I was fine.’

  ‘Are you happy for the nut roast too, Zara?’ Ma asked as she set the table.

  ‘Very, thank you. Since I met Tiggy, I’ve tried not to eat any meat, though I just can’t help craving a bacon sandwich every now and then.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I think we all do that.’ I smiled at her. ‘I’ve no idea why in my case, because I really didn’t like pork when I did eat meat. Right, Ma, can I peel some vegetables to go with it?’

  Eventually, we sat down for lunch and Zara bombarded Ma with questions about Atlantis and all my sisters. I watched Ma begin to relax as she indulged in favourite memories of us when we were younger.

  ‘I wish I could have been in your nursery,’ Zara sighed as I went to collect the lemon tart Claudia had left for dessert and poured Ma’s usual post-lunch espresso.

  ‘Some pudding, Zara?’ I asked her.

  ‘No, thanks,’ she replied. ‘Just popping to the loo.’

  ‘Tiggy,’ Ma said when Zara had left the room, ‘even though she is a sweet girl, this is not what you need at the moment. You are always collecting waifs and strays—’

  ‘They find me, Ma. It works both ways. Besides, I like Zara. Now, I want a bit of fresh air before it gets dark,’ I said as Zara reappeared. ‘Want to come with me?’

  ‘I’d love to.’ Zara nodded and we left before Ma could lodge a complaint.

  ‘It’s so peaceful here,’ Zara said as we walked across the lawns. The tips of the grass were already covered with tiny droplets of water that would soon harden to a sharp night frost.

  ‘It wasn’t like this when I was growing up, not with five sisters,’ I cautioned. ‘Someone was always shouting at someone. Now, this is Pa’s special garden. It’s a pity it’s March and we only have snowdrops and winter pansies, but in the summer, all the roses around this arbour come into full bloom.’ I sat down on the bench as Zara wandered around, ending up at the armillary sphere which lay in the centre of the garden. She beckoned me over to explain it and the inscriptions.

  ‘So there’s a missing sister? Wow, Tiggy, don’t you want to find her?’

  ‘I don’t even know if she exists. If she did, I’m sure Pa would have done so.’

  ‘Unless she didn’t want to be found,’ she said as she joined me on the bench. ‘I’d have loved a brother or a sister,’ she added wistfully.

  As it was growing dark and cold, we soon went back inside to find Ma in the hall, holding the telephone out to Zara. ‘Your father is on the line, chérie,’ she said. Whilst Zara spoke to her dad, I pushed open the door to the drawing room, a place I’d always particularly associated with Christmas. Three comfortable sofas were arranged in a U-shape around the log fire, which was always set to be lit. I put a match to the logs and they caught immediately, the wood tinder-dry after weeks inside the house.

  ‘What a beautiful view this room has,’ Zara said as she came in and sat down in front of the growing fire with me.

  ‘What did your dad say?’

  ‘He says I’ve got to go home. He’s booking me a flight for tomorrow and then picking me up from the airport at Inverness so I don’t run away again.’

  ‘Well, that’s probably the best thing. But I think you should speak to him about what’s been going on at home, with your mum away and him at the hospital all the time.’

  ‘Please come with me,’ Zara begged, her blue eyes imploring me. ‘I’m so worried about Dad. He looks terrible, Tiggy – like he hasn’t slept in months. And he refuses to go up to Kinnaird. He trusts you. He needs you—’

  ‘Zara, I—’

  ‘Please, Tiggy, come with me. I need you too, you’re the only person I can really talk to.’

  I stood up to poke the fire, so I could avoid Zara’s pleading eyes. My contrary inner voice was telling me that it would be a good idea to return to Kinnaird; at least to pick up all of my things, say goodbye to Cal and Thistle and Beryl. And besides,
I did have to be in the UK next week anyway for that interview . . .

  ‘Okay,’ I surrendered, ‘I’ll come.’

  As Zara squealed in delight and gave me a hug, I hated myself for the flutter of excitement that ran through me at the thought of seeing Charlie again.

  37

  ‘What a surprise,’ Zara commented as we walked out of Arrivals at Inverness airport. She looked up at me from her mobile. ‘Dad’s sent me a text, he’s not here after all – he’s had to go up to Kinnaird, and we’re to get a taxi.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said and duly followed Zara outside to the taxi rank.

  As we drove the hour and a half up to Kinnaird, I saw that the first signs of spring were emerging. The burns we passed were heavy with melting snow from the mountains as the temperature rose. The loch appeared blue under the clear sunny sky, and the first daffodils were beginning to sprout along its edges in an unruly fashion. As the taxi climbed the steep drive to the Lodge, the first patches of green lawn were revealed by the melting snow.

  Zara insisted on carrying my rucksack to the cottage, where Cal was already standing in the doorway waiting for me.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ he said, enveloping me in his great big arms. He was interrupted moments later by a blur of grey fur launching itself towards us. Thistle stood up on his hind legs, effortlessly placing his front paws on my shoulders, then soaking my face with ecstatic licks.

  ‘He’s pleased tae see you back, and no mistake,’ Cal chuckled. ‘But I’m thinkin’ that we should be tagging you an’ Zara so we know where you are when you stray. How are yae, Tig?’ he asked as Thistle, having satisfied himself that I was real, bounded off to greet Zara.

  ‘Much better, thanks. Sorry for causing you so much bother, Cal.’

  ‘Aye, you did, and I’ll no’ be denying it. The Laird was beside himself when you did your disappearin’ act, but all’s well that ends well. And that’s not what I can say about the things going down here since you’ve been gone. Stuff has really been kickin’ off, Tig.’ He lowered his voice so that Zara, who was now playing with Thistle in the courtyard, couldn’t hear. ‘Has Charlie mentioned anything tae you?’