by Sam Logue
Victoria sniffed the canvas for traces of paint remover, smelled none and felt for the other layer of paint that had once been there – or so she had thought. The work was so faultless that only a skilled artist could have altered it. She knew of someone who was good enough to have done it, someone who she had initially accused of adding the boy into the lighthouse. The paintings of Katie were probably done by him too. How could Katie have posed for Julian over and over again, each time a betrayal of Paul?
Inside the house, Victoria made a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table to wait for Katie, the lighthouse painting by her side. When the front door shut, Victoria cleared her throat to let Katie know she was home.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked as Katie came into the kitchen.
Katie walked closer and reached to touch the painting. “Is that …”
Victoria lightly pushed her hand away. She stood up, grabbed the painting and held it up in front of Katie. “Did Julian do this?”
Katie moved back a few steps. “You’re crazy.”
“Those paintings of you in the garage – he did them, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, they’re Julian’s.”
Victoria sat down with the lighthouse painting in her lap. “He’s gone. The fisherman left the lighthouse.”
“I know. I saw it when you held the picture up,” Katie said after a moment, meeting Victoria’s eyes. “He was there yesterday.”
“How do you know?”
“I helped Julian put his stuff in the garage then. Oh, and I asked him about it, and he says he’d never painted a lighthouse before. The initials are just a coincidence.”
“He put his things in there without my permission? Does your dad know?”
“We’re just storing them in there. He doesn’t have access without me there with him.”
“I don’t understand how the fisherman could disappear.”
“Julian’s never been in the house.” Katie’s cheeks got pink.
“You just said you took him into our garage.”
“I did, but I was with him the entire time. I wanted to help him. He was going to throw away his paintings and supplies because his dad hates what he loves to do.”
“How could the fisherman just—”
“Paul’s trying to show us something. Maybe he wants to show just you something.”
“He’s trying to tell me he’s alone?” Victoria’s eyes burned as she rubbed away tears with one hand. “Julian took his friend,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even, the flare of anger barely concealed. “His only friend.”
“I thought you didn’t think he was Paul.” Katie paused, and there was a silence between them. “Anyway, Julian didn’t do anything. Maybe I should go away for a little while.”
Victoria jumped up and caught the painting just before it tumbled to the floor from her lap. “What? Go where?”
“Julian’s. To stay with him.”
“You can’t just stay with him.”
“I’m eighteen.”
“What about school?”
Katie was legally an adult, and Victoria couldn’t stop her from leaving, but she could try logic to keep her from making a mistake. “His parents probably won’t let you stay there.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Katie said, quietly walking toward the front door.
Victoria didn’t think Katie would actually go through with it, and she put down the canvas and rushed after her. Katie had never walked away from her before. “You aren’t going to take anything with you?”
“I’ll come back later and get some stuff.”
“You’re not bringing him in here.”
“He’ll wait in the car.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Victoria didn’t get an answer because Katie shut the door and was gone. And Victoria had let her go.
****
Sam came home from work in the early evening. Victoria carried the lighthouse painting into the hall when she heard his key in the lock, and set it by her feet.
“She’s gone,” she said after Sam walked all the way inside.
“Who is gone?”
“Katie.”
Sam paused in the middle of taking off his coat, half of it hanging off his shoulder.
“She went to Julian’s house,” Victoria said.
“He was here?”
“No. I had a fight with Katie because she let him store his art stuff in our garage. Did you notice the fisherman is gone?” Victoria pointed at the painting.
Sam glanced at it then looked away. “I see,” he said loudly, making it clear they were not going to discuss that matter further. “I’ll go get her,” he said, putting his arm back through his coat. “She can’t just leave without asking me first.” Sam frowned. “Or did you agree to let her go?”
Victoria raised her voice. “I would never let her go with him.” She’d calmed down enough to sigh. “I thought about calling the police, but we both know that legally she’s old enough to go if she wants to.”
“Forever?”
“No. I didn’t mean to suggest she’s gone for good, Sam. In the meantime, there’s not much we can do but wait.”
“She’ll be back soon,” he said with certainty. “I know she will be.”
Victoria waited for him to pull her close to his chest, fold his arms around her, as he used to when they’d first met and she had been all he’d wanted.
Sam stayed where he was. “I think I’ll go out for a drink in a little while.” He hung his coat on the hallstand. The slight breeze he created as he walked past cooled Victoria and left her alone with his masculine scent. Her nostrils burned. Since when did he use such strong cologne?
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To change,” Sam said, and walked upstairs.
Still seeking his comfort, Victoria followed him.
In the bedroom Sam’s wrinkled work shirt was on the bed. He was shirtless and still in good shape. Victoria wanted to reclaim him, grab him and push him on top of the bed and make love to him, but he was bent on changing into a fine dark-blue shirt she didn’t recognise. She hadn’t viewed him as a man in a long time. There was no grey in his hair anymore. When had he dyed it? When had he started to care about appearing younger? Who was he sprucing up for if it wasn’t for her? Allison Willoughby. Her throat closed in on her as the tears pushed to the surface.
Sam buttoned his shirt, straightened the collar then went into the bathroom, leaving the door open a little, with his back turned to Victoria at the sink. With the water running, he used a nailbrush and scrubbed with great care.
“Mind if I go with you?” Victoria wiped her eyes and tried to remain composed.
He jumped as though she’d startled him. “I’ll meet up with a few buddies. I don’t think you’d like the bar. I’m going to The Sea Dog. You know the place. It’s kind of an eyesore.”
“I might like it.” She could barely hold the tears back.
Sam hesitated, shut off the water and set the brush on the shelf above the sink. He ran his large hand through his thick, dark hair. Had he been taking the time to shave every morning and styling his hair? Sam scrunched his eyebrows together as though he was mad at her, then he smiled.
“I want to go alone tonight. But we’ll go out together soon,” he said.
Victoria straightened her shoulders in a determined way. “When? Because we haven’t gone out in what feels like forever,” she said, breathing deeply to keep the emotion out of her voice.
“Soon.”
He left without speaking another word, and Victoria allowed herself to cry.
Chapter Seventeen
Katie wasn’t going to let her mother deny her love, the best feeling of her life, because her mother was frozen in that same cold day at the park when they’d lost Paul. Julian suggested they head off the island to his family’s country house in the mountain town of Heatherville. They would take some time off from school. He pitched it as a romanti
c trip.
Blackthorn’s drawbridge disappeared when it was foggy, though some said the steel bridge appeared to vanish all on its own, as if the island were choosy about who it would let visit. Julian and Katie waited as the operator raised the drawbridge to let a large boat pass under. She was conscious that she found Blackthorn hard to leave for anyone but Julian, and when they drove off, she was comforted by knowing that, in a way, the island was waiting for her return.
It started to snow a little as they approached the mountains. “I forgot to tell you earlier that there will be someone else at the house,” Julian said as he drove.
“Who?” Katie asked.
“This caretaker guy my mum hired. His name’s Neil. He doesn’t sleep in the house. He has a room above the garage.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed that they wouldn’t be alone.
“Don’t worry. He won’t get in our way. He pretty much keeps to himself.”
“Is there a phone at the house?”
“Yeah, but the lines are down a lot in the winter. I have my phone. Everything’s going to be great.” Julian squeezed her hand.
A couple inches of snow had fallen by the time they arrived and the mountains around them were dusted as white as baking sugar in the moonlight. Julian took their luggage out of the car and Katie helped him carry it toward the house. The air smelled of burning firewood. In the distance, she saw a churchyard dotted with old gravestones. Someone had left the porch light on outside the house. The garage was dark. A van was parked in the driveway.
“That’s Neil’s van,” Julian said.
Inside Julian threw logs in the fireplace then lit them before they unpacked. They had never stayed overnight together and they used Julian’s parents’ bedroom that night since it was the largest. Katie wondered if he would want to sleep together every night. She fell asleep with the light still on and didn’t know at what time Julian finally got into bed and snuggled against her.
An owl hooted outside somewhere in the distance and Katie burrowed under the covers. The wind picked up and something clanked against the side of the house.
She sat up. “What was that?”
Julian rolled over to face her with his eyes closed. “Probably nothing. Go back to sleep.”
He reached for her and she fell into his arms. Whatever was out there clanged again. “Julian?”
He was breathing softly. She shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard the noise again. Can you go see?”
“I’ll check it out.” Julian flung the blanket off him and got out of bed. He left the room shirtless and in his jeans.
She heard him opening the front door downstairs. The thing outside smashed against the house. The front door closed and heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Katie held her breath as the footfall got louder, came closer.
“Nothing’s out there,” Julian said in the doorway. He joined her in bed and put his arms around her.
“Thanks for checking,” Katie said quietly.
That night she dreamed of a tiny child who curtseyed in shadows and pools of light. The child wasn’t Paul but a little girl.
Julian and Katie sat by the large window in the kitchen and had cereal the next morning. She eyed Neil, the caretaker, who was working outside. Newly fallen snow had been cleared from the paths around the house and from the driveway. Neil was probably her father’s age, thin and medium height, with an old-fashioned handlebar moustache.
“Neil figured out what the noise was last night,” Julian said.
“And?”
“A rain gutter came loose. I’m going to help him fix it later.”
Katie spent the morning exploring the grounds. The house was perfectly situated to take advantage of the area’s beauty. Later in the day, she had wanted to call her dad and say hello, but the phone lines weren’t working because of the snowstorm, and she had trouble getting a signal on Julian’s phone.
“Think we should head back to the island soon?” Katie asked Julian. Victoria probably wouldn’t be angry with her anymore.
“We’ve been here for one day. I’m happy here,” he said. “Can we stay a little longer?”
“Sure. But just for a little longer, okay?” Part of her feared he’d never want to leave.
****
Neil kept an old cow named Isabel, and Katie found a metal jug of steaming fresh milk left on the doorstep in time for their coffee on the second morning. On Blackthorn, Victoria would be getting worried Katie hadn’t returned by now. But she was eighteen and could do what she wanted.
Later that day Katie walked to the market, where everyone called each other by their first names, and she bought a bag of freshly ground coffee. On her way back to the cabin, she noticed a small white church. A stableman was mucking horse stalls at a nearby farm. A cloud formation high above the church’s bell tower looked a little like Nat’s face and Katie thought of Paul. It would be getting dark soon so she continued toward the house.
She cleaned the mud from her boots on the mat, opened the back door that led into the kitchen and set the bag of coffee on the table. Its fresh aroma surrounded her. Katie’s mittens were smeared from petting cows on their noses and she removed them and her boots. The house was quiet but footsteps treaded and squeaked across the floorboards above her.
Katie walked to the staircase in the hall and placed her hand on the banister. She called upstairs, “Hello? I’m back.” When no one replied, she started to climb the narrow stairs.
“I’m up here,” Julian said, appearing at the top of the stairs. Under the ceiling light, his face was flushed. He dried his glistening forehead with the hem of his shirt.
“Are you exercising?” Katie asked.
“I’m just moving some old stuff my mum left stored in the attic and asked me to get rid of a while ago. How was the market?”
“It was fine. I got the coffee. Do you need help?” She started to climb upstairs.
Julian held his hand up. “It’s okay. You don’t have to come up. I’m almost done.”
Neil appeared at his side. “Do you want me to put the coats in a garbage bag? Or are you donating them too, so we’ll use a cardboard box? Oh, hi, Miss Katie,” he said, stopping short.
Katie faced Julian directly. “Whose coats?”
“I’m giving my mum’s old things to the Salvation Army in town.”
They left it at that.
That night Katie was the last to go to bed, and after she turned off all the downstairs lights, she headed toward the staircase to join Julian upstairs and smelled a freshly cut clementine.
Little Paul, in his blue parka, was seated on the bottom step. Waiting for her. His legs were crossed and he hummed. Next to his feet, to the side of the stairs, were the sealed garbage bags full of clothes Neil was getting rid of in the morning.
“How did you get here?” Katie moved the bags aside to get closer to him.
He stopped humming and vanished.
****
The next morning Jacob arrived at the house, a scruffy, sandy-haired local boy just out of school whom Neil hired on occasion to help with chores. He kicked poor old Isabel when he was having a hard time milking her for Neil. Katie ran with Neil from the kitchen window and rushed into the barn. Isabel was trying to move forward and away from Jacob, but she didn’t have a lot of room to change position in her stall.
“Stupid cow.” Jacob was about to kick her again, and she uttered a long and haunting cry.
Neil sneaked up on him and shoved him out of Isabel’s stall. “You get out of here, you hear me? I’m sending you home for the day,” he said to Jacob. Neil stepped all the way into the stall and stroked the top of Isabel’s head.
Jacob flung the empty milking pail and it bounced off the straw-covered floor. He stomped out of the barn.
“Thank you,” Katie said to Neil.
He tipped his cap to her. “You’re very welcome, Miss Katie.”
She hoped Neil wouldn’t let Jacob
return after that, but he was there early the next morning, too, a pail in his hand, milking Isabel again and not hurting her.
Later in the morning, Neil showed Katie a photo of his daughter, a small, sunny girl with strawberry-blonde hair, chubby cheeks and a wide smile.
“She’s beautiful,” Katie said. “What’s her name?”
“Patricia,” he said.
Katie was eating an apple in the kitchen, sitting next to Neil while he worked. He pulled a tape measure out of his toolbox on the counter. “Repairing the cupboards?” she asked.
“Yep.”
Through the window, Katie watched Julian fixing the van outside. He had lifted it with a jack and was using a wrench to loosen a bolt. She could see cherry-vanilla roses poking out from a snowdrift behind him. Paul’s roses. They hadn’t been there last night. Julian turned, and she could tell from his face he’d seen the roses.
“Have you worked for the Bloomfields for a long time?” Katie asked Neil, hoping to find out some more about Julian’s family.
“Yep.”
“Julian told me the house was in bad shape when his family bought it. Did you do all the work on it yourself?”
“Yeah, miss, I did.”
“You don’t have to call me miss. You did a great job with the house. The place looks wonderful.” Katie hoped to win his trust. “Julian’s mother is so pretty, don’t you think?”
“She is an attractive woman.”
“How did you come to work for the family?”
“I was homeless and she offered me a job.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. That was really nice of her.” Katie hadn’t expected him to tell her all that.
“You would think it was,” Neil said.
“I bet it gets lonely up here when the Bloomfield family isn’t around.”
“His mother’s around quite a bit.”
“She is? Without her husband?” Katie said.
“Yep, Mrs Bloomfield was staying here with the young boy a while back.”
The hairs on Katie’s arms stood up. “With Julian?” Julian hadn’t been a young boy for a while.