The Dangers of Family Secrets: From the bestselling author of The Ex-Wife’s Survival Guide

by Debby Holt

  A voice said, ‘Tess?’ and she opened her eyes. Jamie was there, looking anxiously at her. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘It’s just that…’ Her throat felt dry, it was difficult to speak. ‘I know this place. I’ve seen it. I don’t understand.’

  He put an arm round her waist and guided her across the lane, through the door and into a small sitting room. He took her to the sofa and sat her down. ‘I’ll get you some water,’ he said. ‘Don’t move.’

  As soon as he left, she sat back, her eyes travelling round the room. A small pine table by the window carried Jamie’s laptop and printer. The walls were painted in a soft chalky colour; they were empty of pictures apart from a large black and white print of Reidfern Castle on the wall to the right of the fireplace. On the mantelpiece above the wood-burning stove there were a couple of framed photos. The grey carpet looked like it might once have been white or cream. The sofa on which Tess sat was comfortable though the material was worn, particularly on its arms. Only the curtains, resplendent tartan green and red, looked new. It was easy for Tess to imagine herself sitting here, reading her book and sipping her cocoa.

  ‘Here we are.’ Jamie was back with a tray containing a tumbler of water and two glasses of red wine. He put them down on the pine table. ‘I prescribe water first and then wine. You do look pale.’

  ‘I’m fine. It was rather a shock seeing your house. I know it sounds weird but I feel I know it. I must have walked here once with Grandma or something. It’s a lovely place. If you could see my horrible, poky little flat in London… Seriously, you have no idea how lucky you are. Have you been here long?’

  ‘I moved in two years ago. I’d been camping out in the castle cottages while I did them up. It was a great pleasure to move into a place with a working bathroom and kitchen.’

  ‘I can imagine it would be.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re…?’

  ‘I’m fine. Tell me about the photos on the mantelpiece.’

  Jamie brought them over to her and put them on the table. He nodded towards the first one, a black and white picture of a fierce-looking man with a strong jaw and piercing eyes. ‘That’s my grandfather. You’d have liked him. He was a great fan of Scott. Every time he drank a little too much whisky he would declaim Scott’s words: Breathes there a man with a soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said This is my own, my native land! He drank a little too much whisky quite often so that’s how I know those words by heart.’

  ‘And what about the other one? They must be your parents. The man looks so like you.’

  ‘Now he would tell you I look like him.’ He took his wine and joined her on the sofa. ‘You’re not going to faint on me, are you? When I saw you out by the car, I was convinced you were going to faint. We had a wedding at the castle three months ago and the bride’s mother did just that…’

  It was a pleasure to sit listening to Jamie’s soft, lilting voice. She was aware that her first stunned amazement was settling into a sort of dazed acceptance that there was something almost magical about this evening.

  When Jamie suggested it was time to eat, she followed him through to the kitchen and again, it was as she’d imagined: a small, immaculate galley kitchen. Either Jamie had impressively high standards of cleanliness or he had made a huge effort. On the table there was a bowl of salad, with places for two and napkins to the side. Tess watched Jamie take the lasagne out of the oven. ‘You’ve gone to so much trouble,’ she said.

  ‘I owe you,’ he told her. ‘I think we make an excellent team and I’m very grateful for all your help.’

  ‘I’m enjoying myself. I think I might be getting slightly obsessive. I woke up this morning with ideas for castle worksheets for schools. You could find out what people ate and wore, you could bring in the Battle of Flodden and Mary, Queen of Scots. The possibilities are endless.’

  ‘I know,’ Jamie said, ‘but I need someone who knows about that sort of thing to organise it. I need someone who’s good at research and academic work. I’d pay her, of course, and I’d be happy to give her free board and lodging here. I’d even cook her lasagne from time to time.’

  Tess smiled. ‘That sounds nice.’

  ‘I hoped you’d think so.’ Jamie began to serve out the lasagne. ‘I’m serious by the way.’

  ‘I’m sure you are.’ She took the plate from him. ‘This smells good.’

  ‘Help yourself to salad. Would you like dressing?’

  ‘Please.’

  He placed a small jug on the table. He sat down beside her and then stood up again. ‘Do you want salt and pepper?’

  ‘Jamie, I’m fine. Please. Sit down. You’re making me nervous.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I am nervous.’

  She stared at him. ‘Why? Is there something wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know. That’s the problem. I have absolutely no idea.’ His voice was as level as ever but his eyes never left her face.

  Tess wasn’t naïve. She had suspected his interest in her was not just professional. She had even been ready to politely deflect any advances tonight. But the sight of his house – her house – had thrown her. She had a queer impression that she was in some parallel universe in which she could contemplate with a degree of curiosity the idea of kissing the man sitting next to her at the table.

  She had a sudden conviction that she was at a crossroads. Tonight – this moment – she was ready to be kissed. She leant forward. ‘Do you want to explain?’

  ‘The thing is…’ Jamie murmured, and now, very slowly, he brought his face towards her own. She felt a wave of panic but she didn’t turn away.

  And that was when the doorbell rang.

  Freya should have been preparing supper. Instead, she was re-reading an intriguing email.

  ‘Dear Mrs Cameron,

  I heard about your website from my son, Jamie, who lives in the Borders and has been seeing quite a lot of your daughter. For some time now, I have had the idea of researching my family tree. We’re quite an interesting bunch. One of my ancestors on my mother’s side was Lord Chancellor. I have a picture of him in our library. My mother maintained that we’re descended from the half-brother of Mary, Queen of Scots. By all accounts, he was not a very nice man so perhaps I shouldn’t boast of the connection.

  Having studied your website, I would love to engage your services. I also have a rather cheeky suggestion. On 6 September, my wife and I are throwing a party to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. I’ve been trying, so far without success, to persuade Jamie to come down for it. I have a strong suspicion that if he knew Tess and her parents were invited, he’d make the effort to do so. Would you and your husband and Tess care to join us? I quite understand if you can’t but I’d be delighted to meet you all. Yours, very sincerely, Neil Lockhart.

  His son had been seeing ‘a lot’ of Tess! Freya felt a surge of excitement. Was it possible that Tess had at last found a man who appealed to her? The fact that Jamie had told his father about her seemed to indicate a level of confidence on his part. Neil Lockhart obviously believed there was a serious romance. Why else would he want to meet Tess and her parents? Freya read through the email again. The man had a library! She picked up the phone.

  The trouble with ringing the Commune was that one had no control over who answered. At the moment it looked as if no one would. She couldn’t believe that all of the inmates were currently out on the town. She drummed her fingers on her desk and then stopped as she heard sounds of life from the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’ The voice was tentative.

  ‘Linda? Linda!’ Freya’s voice increased in volume and enthusiasm. ‘Hello there! It’s Freya!’

  ‘Oh.’ There was a pause followed by a cautious ‘Hello.’

  ‘It’s Freya,’ Freya said again, ‘Felix’s wife.’

  ‘Felix!’ Linda said, with more enthusiasm. ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’s very well! We’re both looking forward to seeing you all in October. Linda, c
ould I have a word with Tess… or with Maggie?’

  ‘Right,’ Linda said, ‘I’ll go and see.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Freya said. If she ever ended up in a commune she would make sure that each of the residents had mobiles. It was ridiculous for all of them to share just one house phone. She glanced at her watch: half past seven. She had no idea it was so late. Keeping her phone clamped to her left ear, she went through to the kitchen and poured a large glass of Sauvignon. The fact that Tess had at the very least a possible boyfriend was definitely a cause for celebration. Felix might say – Felix often said – that Tess would find a partner in her own good time but there was no denying that it was odd for a pretty young woman to be resigned to celibacy at twenty-seven and Freya was as sure as she could be that Tess was resigned. Freya used to believe that all she wanted for her daughters was that they were happy. But actually, she wanted them to be normal as well. She didn’t mind if Tess proved to be gay. She just wanted to know that she was capable of loving someone, because if she wasn’t, Freya felt that somehow she must be to blame.

  She went back to the study with her wine in one hand and her phone in the other. She took her place in front of the computer. Linda was taking a very long time. Freya shouted, ‘Hello,’ into the silence. Linda was clearly losing the plot and sooner or later so would the others and eventually no one would answer the phone, and concerned relatives would be left hurling out greetings into the ether.

  And now at last a voice responded. ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

  ‘Aunt Katherine! Hello there! It’s Freya.’

  ‘The receiver was lying on the hall table.’ Aunt Katherine sounded quite aggrieved as if this was Freya’s fault.

  ‘I spoke to Linda. She said she’d go and find Tess and Maggie for me. I’ve been waiting some time.’

  ‘Tess is out, I’m afraid. She’s very rarely in. How is Felix?’

  ‘He’s very well.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. We’re about to have supper. I’ll go and get Maggie for you.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s very kind. I’m sorry to ring now. I only want…’ But Aunt Katherine had gone. It was interesting that both she and Linda had asked after Felix and had shown no interest in her at all. She had another sip of wine and hoped Aunt Katherine’s attention span was sharper than Linda’s.

  It was. A familiar voice came to the phone and said, ‘Freya, how nice! We were having our sherry in the garden. It’s the most beautiful evening up here.’

  ‘It’s lovely down here too. Maggie, I’m ringing about an email I’ve received. It’s from a man called Neil Lockhart.’

  ‘Oh.’

  There was a rather odd intonation in her mother-in-law’s voice. Freya asked, ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘I know his son.’

  ‘I gather Tess does too. According to the email, they’ve been spending a great deal of time together.’

  ‘That’s true. Jamie owns a castle. He hires it out for functions and weddings. He wants to expand the tourist side. I gather Sir Walter Scott went there and…’

  ‘How fascinating! Tess told me she was helping one of your friends promote his business and I imagined some sweet old gentleman and instead he’s a young man with a castle! Are he and Tess close?’

  ‘I have no idea. Why did his father write to you?’

  ‘He seems to think there might be a romance. He’s invited Felix and me and Tess to a party in London.’

  ‘Has he? How extraordinary.’

  ‘Jamie has told him about my website and he wants me to research his roots.’

  ‘His what?’

  ‘His roots, Maggie. He wants me to look into his roots. Could you ask Tess to ring me sometime soon? I’ve tried her mobile once or twice but there doesn’t seem to be a signal.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me. It’s not easy ringing people up here.’

  ‘So I’ve discovered,’ Freya said with feeling.

  ‘Now tell me, Freya, how is Felix?’

  ‘He’s very well.’ Freya could hear Aunt Katherine calling Maggie to supper and added quickly, ‘I must let you go. We’ll speak soon.’ She put the phone down and wondered, not for the first time, why Tess had to be so secretive. Why had she said so little about the mysterious man? A man with a castle known to Walter Scott had to be perfect for her. She was aware she was being watched and saw her husband in the doorway.

  ‘You were miles away,’ he said, ‘staring up at the ceiling like it was about to fall down on you.’

  Freya pointed at the computer screen. ‘Read that,’ she said.

  His face looked increasingly bewildered as his eyes scanned the text. ‘Has Tess talked to you about this man?’

  ‘She said he was a friend of Maggie. I rang Maggie just now and she says she knows him but… you know what Maggie’s like. She’s not very forthcoming.’

  ‘Well… I don’t know what to say. I suppose you and Tess might find it fun.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Felix. September the sixth is our own wedding anniversary.’

  ‘I know.’ Felix pushed back his chair. ‘I’m afraid I’ll be in Spain for it.’ He rose to his feet and put his hands in his pockets. ‘It’s because of Ted. We’re opening up a new office in Madrid. Ted was in charge and of course now he can’t go…’

  ‘And so you have to go?’

  ‘There’s no one else. I’m sorry. I only found out today. It’ll be fine. We’ll celebrate when I get back. I know it’s an important anniversary…’

  ‘I thought it was.’ Freya turned off the laptop. ‘I suppose if I’m not having my own, it might be fun to go to someone else’s.’

  ‘Freya, I’ve told you I’m…’

  ‘It’s all right, Felix, I’ll have fun in London. I’d like to go to the party. The truth is I’m curious. We’ve been worried about Tess for years…’

  ‘You’ve been worried. I’m not.’

  ‘Well, of course, it suits you very well to have Tess all to yourself without any annoying boyfriends in tow.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Oh I don’t know.’ She picked up her wine glass. ‘I suppose I’m fed up with the fact that we keep pedalling along as if everything’s great and now I have an email from a man who seems to think that our younger daughter might at last be interested in a flesh and blood male and you’re saying we’re fine and I don’t think we are, Felix, really I don’t.’ She stared at him, almost out of breath. If he laughed at her she would cry.

  Felix didn’t laugh. He looked down at the floor and then back up at her. ‘Go to the party. Stay at a hotel and buy a new dress. You’ll be the belle of the ball. You always are.’

  Fortunately, there was more than enough lasagne for the three of them.

  Jamie’s brother was every inch the actor. Rory was very good-looking, he knew he was good-looking, he loved to be centre stage and he took it for granted his audience was thrilled to see him.

  ‘I cannot believe,’ he said, helping himself to more lasagne, ‘that my big brother would forget that I was coming to stay with him. Do you want to know something, Tess? The last time I saw Jamie was at Christmas – Christmas! That was over half a year ago. A couple of months ago, anxious to pay my fraternal respects, I went out of my way to suggest a fortnight when we could see each other and now, I wend my weary way to his house and…’

  ‘Rory, you are such a bullshitter,’ Jamie said. ‘The only reason you’re here is because you’ve been performing at the Edinburgh Festival and you wanted an easy, inexpensive holiday afterwards. How was your play?’

  ‘Thank you for asking, Jamie, particularly since you failed to turn up even though I got you a ticket. There I was on stage, peering out into the audience, trying in vain to spot my brother and all I saw was an empty seat. The play, I have to tell you, was a dog’s breakfast. Mona – and never was a name more aptly given – Mona wrote it herself and if I’d known what an appalling director she’d be, I’d have turned it down at once. The rehearsals were a joke. A
nd then, when we get to Edinburgh, it’s clear she’s shagging Bernie Root. If I tell you that Bernie is the most repulsive actor in the world, you should know that I am being kind to him. At the first rehearsal in Edinburgh, Bernie has to rape Ruthie and Bernie gets carried away and throws her down so hard that we have to call an ambulance and she has to have an X-ray on her head or her neck, I can’t remember which, and then, just before we start again, without poor Ruthie of course, we see Mona bend over for something – and you have to know that Mona has started wearing very short skirts – and Mona bends down and we all see Bernie push his hand up her legs and we all try our hardest not to puke. Trust me, if you could see Bernie, you would puke. He refuses to wear shoes on his feet and they are quite disgusting; he doesn’t approve of alcohol and he sits around eating revolting food. His favourite snack is bread smeared with vinegar. He and Mona both have partners but they spend their time slipping, very subtly, into the conversation that they don’t believe in monogamy. And none of this would matter if the play had been any good but it was supposed to be sexy and meaningful and it was about as sexy as a fart in a lavatory.’

  ‘In that case,’ Jamie said, ‘it was just as well I didn’t see it.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but that is no excuse.’ Rory turned to Tess. ‘The trouble with Jamie is he’s a workaholic. He lives and breathes his stupid castle. He can talk about nothing else. He can do nothing else. He is, I’m afraid, a complete bore about it.’

  ‘It’s quite a beautiful castle,’ Tess said. ‘It’s easy to be obsessed by it.’

  Rory looked at her as if she were mad. ‘Do you work for him?’

  ‘No. I know a little about the Borders…’

  ‘She’s being modest,’ Jamie said. ‘She’s an authority on Sir Walter Scott. She thinks I could use him to promote Reidfern. She has some amazing ideas.’

  ‘I see.’ Rory looked at Tess and then at Jamie. ‘I haven’t interrupted a romantic evening, have I?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Jamie said. ‘We are both thrilled beyond words to have your company.’

  ‘In that case,’ Rory said, ‘I’ll finish off the lasagne.’