Two Kinds Of Truth

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Two Kinds Of Truth Page 19

by Lynette Creswell


  He nods and my knees buckle, but Callum catches hold of me, stopping me from falling.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” he tells me, his eyes beseeching. “We’d moved in together by the time the baby arrived and you and I had just found out we couldn’t have a child of our own. How could I admit I’d already fathered a child? Not when I was so aware of the devastating impact it would have on you.”

  I’m unable to hide the desperation in my voice. “How long have you been seeing Ally behind my back?”

  “Maddie, I—”

  “How long, Cal?”

  “On and off since she was six months pregnant.”

  The muscles in my chest tighten and I swear my heart stops beating for a moment.

  “So, you’ve lied to me the whole time we’ve been married?” I say in a small voice.

  He nods. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “And this child…”

  “A boy.”

  “You have a son?” My chest tightens. “Does he look like you?”

  “Please, don’t do this,” Callum begs.

  “Does he have your eyes, your hair colour?”

  Callum doesn’t reply. He looks down at the ground and remains tight-lipped.

  I clutch my stomach and a pitiful cry escapes my lips. “How could you do this to me? And all this time you’ve made me believe you couldn’t have children—we couldn’t have children.” I take a breath. “You said you loved me, and I believed you.”

  Callum looks up and his grip tightens.

  “I do love you, and it’s been torture for me, too. I wanted to share my happiness, to shout out and tell the world I had a son, but the guilt’s been tearing me apart.”

  I seriously can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You mean…you’re actually blaming me for the fact you kept your child a secret?” I stare at the man who has become a stranger to me. “Our whole life together was built on a lie,” and although the words are mine, they seem to have come from someone else.

  “Surely, we can work something out,” Callum whispers.

  I stare at him as if he’s gone stark raving mad. “You mean carry on as we are? You want Ally and I to share you? Is that it?” Anger is now rising from the pit of my stomach. I clench my fist, draw back my arm and punch Callum straight in the face. Pain shoots down my hand and along to my elbow when my knuckles connect with his jaw. His expression is one of shocked surprise, a trickle of red already oozing from the side of his mouth.

  Ally lets out a wail and jumps to his aid. “Get the fuck away from him,” she screams, and dabs his lip with a scrunched-up tissue she hurriedly extracts from her pocket.

  Tears pour down my cheeks seeing them together: Callum with his fingers curled around hers, Ally all over him like a rash. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I just shake my head, unable to digest the bond they clearly share, no longer able to bear to breathe the same air.

  I turn and run.

  All I can think about is Callum’s child, a boy running in the snow, with cute dimpled skin and a bright dazzling smile. A head of rich auburn curls bounces about his head, and when he turns to me, I see a pair of sparkling sea-green eyes. I clutch my chest at the overwhelming image, my pain leaving me breathless.

  His child will never be mine.

  I head back towards the farmhouse, the snow hitting my face, sharp like slivers of ice, then I’m past the garden house, my feet refusing to stop. I don’t want to go inside, not where the air is warm and the familiar rooms cosy. I no longer feel safe there and so turn on my heels. I need to be alone.

  It’s growing dark. There are no birds in the sky, and even the chickens have fallen quiet. All I hear is the crunch of the snow under my boots as I make my way towards the gate that leads to the brae.

  One of the farm dogs barks as I lift the latch.

  “Maddie? Where are you?” Callum calls through the darkening and white-flecked swirling air, but I ignore him, a notch of fear rising within me at the thought of him chasing after me. I glance down. The frozen earth is white now, my tracks easy for him to follow, but I push on into the faster falling snow, seeing almost nothing before me but streaks of white against the deepening blackness. I’m running now, fast in my flight, until my foot jars and I stumble over a hidden stone. I lose my balance and fall to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through my knee. I peer down to see I’ve grazed it, and I cover my mouth to smother a hiss of pain. Then I force myself back onto my feet, wipe a stream of snowflakes from my eyes and hurry down a path I vaguely recognise. Everything’s covered in a blanket of white and the bitter cold is seeping through to my bones.

  I head for a row of trees that I know will take me to the woodland. Covered in snow, they look majestic, reminding me of a picture I once saw on a Christmas card; all that’s missing is a light dusting of glitter. It feels warmer here, protected by the trees, but still I stumble over invisible clods of earth and decaying branches.

  Leaning back against a thick tree trunk I catch my breath, recognising nothing around me. The trees appear the same in all directions.

  A gust of wind knocks snow off one of the branches, but there’s other movement between the trees and my heart lurches in my chest. I catch sight of a figure in the distance and hold my breath, unsure whether it’s Callum or a deer. With my breath back in me, I dash off in the opposite direction, hastening between light snow drifts and frozen undergrowth, and finally I manage to get away. Out of breath once more, I slump down near a large boulder and gulp in the freezing air, sharp within my throat. Something’s above my head and I fend it off with my hand, touching nothing more than a frost encrusted low-lying branch. I’m cold, and sit as still as the night, listening to the sounds of the woodland.

  A twig snaps and I take off again, like a startled deer, away from the sound, deeper into the darkness, no longer able to see where I’m going. Panicking at another sharp sound behind, I flay my arms out in front of me and let out a scream as I glance back over my shoulder.

  The ground underfoot dips unexpectedly beneath my feet, and I turn sharply, only to suffer an almighty thwack against my forehead. Glittering silver stars fill my vision as I feel myself go light for a moment, before I thud painfully into the deepening snow, finally lying there, dazed. As I shakily reach up and touch my head, the stars fizzle ever brighter and more densely before my sight, until I sink through them into the depths of an utter darkness.

  Chapter 12

  Jamie

  The snow’s made moving the herd difficult. It’s falling so fast I’ve had to move quickly. I could have left them there. There’s plenty of dead grass and forbs sticking up from the ground that they can nose away with their muzzles and eat, but I can’t afford to take the risk.

  I guide them from the glen on foot, as I always have. The bad weather makes my vision blurred, but the fold moves easily from the high ground to where they will be much safer in the lower field. I check the water trough hasn’t frozen over before I leave. Satisfied they’re safe, I bolt the gate and head off down the track to one of the sheds that holds the hay.

  I’m busy stacking the bales when Callum comes rushing in.

  “Hey, bro,” I say, “I’m glad you’re back.” I hurry over and slap his shoulder. “’Tis guid to see ye. Did Maddie tell ye granda’s stable and the staff seem hopeful he’ll recover?”

  I notice Callum’s hands are pushed deep inside his pockets and his mood is subdued.

  “Hey, dinnae worry yir head. Ye can visit him anytime ye like.”

  Callum opens his mouth just as Ally rushes in behind him. “I can’t find her any— Oh, Jamie. I didn’t realise you were back.”

  My shoulders tense at the sight of her. “What are ye doing here?” I hiss.

  “Ease off, bro,” Callum says, standing there with his hands now outstretched in a gesture of supplication. “Let’s calm down and I’ll explain.”

  I pick up a pitchfork and head back towards the hay. “I’m not interested in anythin
g ye have to say if it involves Ally.”

  I hear Callum let out a sigh. “Jamie, I need you to listen to me. Maddie’s missing.”

  I spin around and glare at him. “What are ye talkin’ about?”

  Callum licks his lips.

  “Maddie overheard me and Ally talking things over earlier and everything got out of hand.”

  I feel my eyes narrow.

  “What kind of things?”

  I watch Callum closely as he struggles to swallow. “I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to know that Maddie found out that Ally and I…that we…”

  I turn away, to stab the pitchfork into a bale of hay, little strands of gold falling to the floor.

  “That you’re having an affair?” and my anger rises.

  “No, well, not exactly.”

  I throw the pitchfork to the floor and swing around to face him. “What then?”

  Ally pushes her way towards me, her eyes wide, defiant.

  “It’s time you also knew the truth. We have a child together, a son.”

  I let out a bark of laughter. “Nice try. Quit foolin’ around.”

  “It’s no joke,” she snaps, turning towards Callum. “Go on; tell him.”

  I stare at my brother, a slight smirk resting upon my lips.

  “She’s right,” he says, his eyes dark with shame. “Ally fell pregnant just months before I became infertile.”

  My smile slides off my face. “And ye ne’er told Maddie any of this?”

  He shakes his head. “No. How could I tell her something that would break her heart?”

  I struggle to find the right words. “You’re an arsehole,” I eventually hiss. “All that talk about nae willing to adopt for Maddie’s sake. Aye, now I ken why.”

  “I’m sorry I deceived you,” Callum whispers. “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d realised Ally was going to force my hand.”

  “What are ye saying?”

  Ally links her arm through Callum’s.

  “I told him it’s time he came home to his son,” Ally states, flatly. “Isaac needs him more than Maddie does.”

  Anger bubbles in my throat. “I see. So ye got yourself a job here, close to his family, and just waited for the right moment to destroy his marriage?”

  “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy. I just want my child to grow up knowing his father.”

  “Does Maddie know about Isaac?”

  Callum nods. “Yes, she does now, and as soon as she found out, she ran off. We’ve looked everywhere, but she’s vanished.”

  “Everywhere?”

  “Pretty much. We’ve searched the whole farm, and most of the outbuildings, but there’s no sign of her. When she left, I tried to chase after her, but she seemed to disappear into thin air. I rushed to the main house, thinking she’d be there, then, when she wasn’t, I went back and tried to follow her tracks. But the snow’s falling so fast they’re gone in a matter of seconds.”

  “Aye, well, it’s eased off for now.”

  “That may be true, but that doesn’t help us.”

  “Where were she headin’ when ye saw her last?”

  “Towards the farmhouse.”

  “And you’re certain she isnae there?”

  Callum’s stare is one of anguish. “Yes; I checked upstairs and down. And she’s not in the garden house, either.”

  “How long has she been missin’?”

  “No more than thirty minutes tops, I’d say.”

  “Then I think I ken where she’s gone.” I zip up my coat. “If I’m not back within the hour, get the Search and Rescue team out.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Callum says.

  I shake my head. “Nah, I move faster on my own, thanks.”

  I shove a hand inside my coat and pull out a thick woollen hat, then rush out of the shed, leaving Ally and Callum standing there. Once in the farmhouse, I grab a rucksack from behind the door, one filled with medical supplies, a reflective heat blanket, maps, and flares. I delve inside to find a headband with a torch attached to it and put it over my hat, then hurry into the kitchen, where I grab a bowl and fill it with water. I bring it to the boil in the microwave and use some of it to fill a hot water bottle, making coffee for a metal flask with the rest.

  Once outside, a security light flashes on, illuminating my way as I dash over to the gate, the pack already on my back. When I switch on the torch, the ground opens up in front of me and I jog down the track, scanning for any signs of movement. Inside, I’m afraid. It’s freezing out here and Maddie won’t last long, not if I don’t find her soon. But Callum was right: the blowing snow has certainly filled in her tracks.

  I keep going until I reach the woodland, where the trees seem to bend together as though they’re whispering terrible secrets to one another. The wind blows gently through the trees, and as my head-light shines ahead, I see two small globes of white. For a split second I think I’ve found Maddie, but a back arches like a cat and the thing jerks its head, tearing at something small with its teeth. There’s blood on its muzzle, dripping onto the ground.

  “Shoo,” I cry at the red fox. It glares at me for my unexpected intrusion, let’s out a high rasping bark and scurries away into the darkness. With my torch’s pool of light on the blood-stained snow, I make my way over. There, I find what’s left of the carcass of a baby rabbit, and a sigh escapes me as I continue my search.

  “Maddie, where are ye, lassie?” I cry out, but only the fox’s solitary bark is returned.

  I hunt for any obvious signs Maddie may have passed this way, like broken twigs or a tatter of her clothing, something she may have dropped or been caught on a sharp branch, but my despair grows with every step I take. No matter how hard I scour the ground and the foliage, it all appears undisturbed.

  But then I hear a noise, a moan in the bushes, and I quickly dive further into the trees.

  “Maddie, I’ve heard what’s happened. Come home and we’ll talk about it more there,” and now I’m creeping through the darkness, careful where I tread. I’m off the beaten track, but I know every inch of woodland for miles around, so when I come across a strange bulge in the ground, I’m quick to investigate. It’s covered in a light smattering of snow, but I can see blond hair there, streaked with dried blood.

  “Maddie!” I cry in horror and dive onto my knees, snow flicking into my face. I wipe it away with a gloved hand before reaching out and gently turning her over, her face revealed in the light of the torch. I catch my breath. There’s a cut across her forehead, but I’m damned if I can tell how bad it is.

  I press my ear to her lips, around which her skin is like blue glass, but am relieved to hear her breathing. Taking off and ripping open the bag, I take out the thermal blanket and quickly wrap it around her, pressing the hot water bottle in between her coat and thin blouse.

  “Maddie, wake up,” I beg, shaking her roughly. There’s a noise from her, a low groan, and she slowly opens her eyes.

  “Jamie,” she whispers. “Am I dead?”

  “Nah. Not today, lassie. Not on my watch.”

  She lifts her fingers to my face and gently strokes my cheek. A single tear trickles down her pale face.

  “Did he tell you he has a child with Ally?” she rasps.

  “Aye, that he did, and I also told him what I thought of him.”

  Her hand drops, then she gives a weak smile. “I knew I could count on you.”

  Once again, I reach inside the rucksack, but this time I take out the coffee.

  “Here, sit up and drink this,” I urge, and Maddie coughs and splutters when the hot liquid hits the back of her throat.

  “Are ye able to stand?” I ask, and Maddie nods.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Guid. Now we need to get ye checked over at the hospital.”

  “No. Take me back to the house.”

  “Nah, I cannae do that. Ye need medical attention.”

  “I’m fine; just take me home, please.”

  I’m torn, b
ut it’s her call. She’s coherent and I can see the colour coming back to her cheeks.

  “All right, but if I see any signs of hypothermia or frost bite, you’re going straight to A&E.”

  I help her to her feet and she clutches the blanket closer. All I want is to keep her safe. I guide her through the trees: a slow process, the torch not giving much light for two.

  “How did ye end up off the trail?” I ask.

  “I thought Callum was chasing me so I tried to hide. What about you?”

  “I saw something moving in the shadows, probably a deer, but I wasnae takin’ any chances.”

  We eventually reach the path and she stumbles. I grab her tighter.

  “You’re weak from yir ordeal,” I say, and when she lets out a whimper, I bend slightly and sweep her off her feet and into my arms.

  “Thanks for saving me from myself,” she whispers into my ear.

  I pull her closer. “Perhaps I was saving ye for myself.”

  She snuggles into my chest as I head back to the farm. Maddie’s as light as a feather and easy to carry, the snow my only hinderance, but she’s shivering from the cold. The farm soon looms ahead in the darkness, and when the security light flashes on, Callum comes rushing out and towards us. I’m relieved to see Ally is nowhere in sight.

  Callum opens the gate. “Thank God you’ve found her,” he says. “Is she okay?”

  “What do you think?” I snap and head straight for the main house, pushing the front door wide open with the tip of my boot and hurrying through to the kitchen. There’s a small fire now burning in the hearth and I place her gently in one of the fireside chairs. Callum’s swift to follow.

  “Run her a bath, not too hot, and then find her some warm clothes,” I instruct.

  “Anything in particular?”

  “Aye, woolly socks and anything thermal.”

  Callum nods then heads upstairs as I take off Maddie’s boots and pull off her socks. I hear the abrupt gush of water coming from the bathroom as I feel Maddie’s feet; they’re as cold as ice. Then, when I’m filling the washing up bowl from the sink with lukewarm water, the sound of the bath filling stops and Callum’s boots clatter down the stairs. The front door bangs shut as he dashes off to find suitable clothes from the cottage.

 

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