The Family Secret

by Tracy Buchanan

  As Dylan and Glenn walked back inside, I turned the marshmallow in the fire, watching as it turned brown.

  ‘Your family have been so kind,’ I said to Cole.

  He shrugged. ‘We like you. It would be a different story if you weren’t so interesting.’

  ‘Interesting?’ I said with a laugh. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘You’re a wildlife camerawoman. Beats being a financial director like me.’ He paused, looking me in the eye. ‘Dylan certainly finds you interesting.’

  I felt my cheeks flush under his gaze. ‘Not often you find a girl drowning in the middle of your loch.’

  He coughed slightly then lifted his marshmallow out of the fire and blew on it, his gaze fixed on it as he twirled the browned, bubbling marshmallow round on the stick. ‘He seems happier with you around though.’

  I lifted my marshmallow out too. ‘I’ve only known him a few hours.’

  ‘I know it sounds ridiculous but really, he seems more relaxed. He’s always so bloody uptight at family gatherings, like a caged animal desperate to get out.’

  ‘That surprises me.’ I bit into my marshmallow, the sugar sponge oozing over my chin.

  ‘He travels a lot with the job, helping build lodges around the world. So it’s not often we’re all together. But – I don’t know – he seems to find it all a bit overwhelming at times. If he had his way, I think he’d prefer to see us in our respective homes rather than all together here.’ He looked out at the loch and sighed.

  ‘That’s a shame. You’re all so great together,’ I replied.

  ‘I think Mum finds it particularly tough,’ Cole said, peering into a window at his mother, who was clearing stuff away in the kitchen with their maid. ‘God, listen to me being all maudlin,’ he said with an embarrassed laugh. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is I think Dylan needs some company, someone else here who isn’t family.’

  ‘He doesn’t bring girlfriends back?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral as Cole handed me another marshmallow.

  He shook his head. ‘You kidding? That’ll be the day we know it’s serious, when there’s a lass who does more than keep his bed warm. He likes to keep things casual.’

  ‘Sounds like me.’

  ‘Then you’re a match made in heaven.’

  I looked at him in surprise. ‘Look at you, trying to marry us off.’

  ‘It’s selfish really,’ Cole replied, shrugging. ‘Someone interesting to talk to as we guard the fire each year.’ We both took our marshmallows out at the same time and he pressed his against mine. ‘Cheers to good company.’

  ‘Cheers,’ I replied, laughing as we tried to pull the marshmallows apart.

  Over the next two hours, Cole and I talked about our jobs. It seemed he’d always known he’d move into his father’s business, and he had studied business and accounts at the University of Edinburgh with the intention of bringing his knowledge to the family company. I got the impression he’d made the most of the three years he spent in Edinburgh, several hours’ drive away from his family. There was a sparkle in his eye when he talked about that time, especially when he told me about meeting Rhonda a few months before he graduated while she was studying English Literature at the university. They were married a couple of years later when Cole was well on his way to making himself indispensable at the family firm.

  ‘It’s been busy lately,’ he said, poking at the fire to keep it going. ‘What with Dad taking a step back.’

  ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘He had a heart scare last year,’ he said with a sigh. ‘The doctors called it a silent heart attack. It happened without him knowing, but he grew fatigued after, like a flu he couldn’t shake off. After some tests and a scan, they discovered what had happened. He didn’t want to, but we’ve all made him step back.’ He looked back towards the kitchen. Glenn and Dylan were nursing whiskies as they talked to one another. ‘Dylan’s been a godsend. Dad’s always liked to be hands-on like Dylan, visiting sites, even helping build the house. Dylan’s taken on a lot of that. Even meant putting a pause on his own business.’

  I frowned. ‘What business?’

  ‘The wood carvings.’

  ‘He said that was a hobby.’

  ‘I suppose it is now, the business has taken so much of his time up.’

  I followed his gaze towards Dylan. He’d given up his own business for his father. ‘Wow, that’s quite something,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, well, my brother is quite something. Annoying as hell but quite something.’

  We both fell into silence, sipping the teas we’d made earlier. Then Cole looked at his watch. ‘Nearly two hours. I think our shift is up soon. I’ve enjoyed it,’ he said with a smile. ‘I hope we all get to see more of you, Gwyneth. It doesn’t feel right you might be leaving tomorrow and we’ll never see you again.’

  I kept my eyes on Dylan who was now watching me and Cole, a serious look on his handsome face. I took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around myself as cold mist bloomed from my mouth. Heather approached Dylan in the kitchen, leaning close as she told him something.

  ‘You look cold,’ Cole said. ‘Why don’t you head in now? I can man the fort until the next shift.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I was going to make another hot drink,’ I said as I stood. ‘Shall I bring you one out?’

  He smiled. ‘I’m fine. Thank you, though.’

  I walked to the lodge, kicking the snow from my boots. As I stepped in and went to close the door behind me, I paused. There were raised voices coming from the living room. I moved back slightly so I couldn’t be seen. Maybe I should have coughed to make my presence known. It would have been the polite thing to do but I’d spent so long working in that godforsaken hotel, pretending I wasn’t overhearing some of the most salacious of conversations as I served its guests, that I’d grown used to quietly observing, unnoticed.

  ‘This is what I told you,’ Dylan was saying, waving a letter about. ‘It would be found out eventually.’ He raked his fingers through his hair, striding back and forth. ‘Jesus. All for nothing.’

  ‘Nothing?’ Mairi said, her voice hard. ‘We’ve had eleven years here. Eleven years!’

  ‘And we’ll have many, many more,’ Oscar said, plucking the letter from Dylan’s hand. ‘No more talk of this, you hear me? They’re all talk and no action.’

  They all went quiet and turned to see me awkwardly smiling from the hallway. ‘Was just getting some coffee,’ I quickly said.

  Heather let out a sob and shoved past me, running upstairs as her mother closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  Dylan rubbed the back of his neck. He looked at his mother then at Cole, who’d come in to find out what the shouting was about. For a moment, I thought Dylan might run upstairs after his sister. But instead, he grabbed my hand.

  ‘I want to show you something,’ he said.

  ‘Dylan,’ Mairi said in a low warning voice.

  Cole put his hand on his mother’s arm. ‘It’s fine. They’re just going to tend to the fire, right?’ he said to Dylan, giving him a look.

  Dylan nodded without saying anything. We put our boots and coats back on, and Dylan led me outside, walking in silence towards the edge of the loch. I wanted to ask what the argument was all about, but what could I say? It had nothing to do with me. Dylan’s dark gaze penetrated mine and I felt like he wanted to tell me too. But he didn’t.

  ‘Look,’ he said instead when we got to the edge of the lake. He pointed towards the loch’s surface. Under the moonlight, at first all I could see was the shimmer of ice and the sparkle of the snow that was beginning to fall around us. But when I looked closer, I realised the ice wasn’t one blank sheet as it had been earlier. It was formed into hundreds of round discs, like frozen lily pads.

  ‘Loch pancakes,’ Dylan said with a smile. ‘That’s what Heather called them when she was a kid.’ His brow furrowed a little at the mention of his sister’s name. I imagined her cry
ing in her room, just as I did at her age when I missed my parents, knees to my chest, pillow bunched against my stomach.

  I crouched down on the ground and reached out, my fingers glancing over one of the ice discs. It bobbed against the one next to it, creating a domino effect, all of them bobbing against one another at once. Combined with the effect of the moonlight on their surface, it was beautiful, as though the icy circles were dancing. Dylan crouched next to me, close enough for me to smell the coffee and whisky on his breath. He reached out, bobbing the discs too, his smile deepening. Then he turned to me, face growing serious as his dark eyes searched my face. I felt my heartbeat quicken and imagined pressing my lips against his.

  ‘I needed an excuse to get out of there,’ he whispered. ‘It’s too much. All the—’

  A shout punctured the silence.

  ‘Dylan!’ We both looked up with a start to see a shadow standing in the darkness. It was Mairi, her arms crossed, a look so fierce on her face I thought it might burn us.

  ‘The fire,’ she hissed at him.

  ‘Shit,’ I said, jumping up and instinctively trying to blow the dull orange embers to relight the fire.

  ‘Shit indeed,’ Mairi said. Then she turned on her heel and stormed inside.

  Dylan sighed heavily. ‘Don’t bother. It’s just a fire.’

  ‘It’s tradition. And your mum looks pretty upset.’

  Dylan slowly stood up, brushing the snow from his jeans. ‘She’s forgiven me for a lot worse.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I was a nightmare as a teenager, proper wild child,’ he added with a wink. ‘Caused her hell. Come on, let’s get inside.’

  I tossed and turned in bed that night. It wasn’t the room, the room was lovely. The wood walls created a sense of homeliness, the red robin curtains, red patterned duvet and Nordic-style decor making it feel even more Christmassy. No, it was the memory of the way Dylan had looked at me. I clutched my fist to my tummy, frustration burning inside. I really did wish it was a shoot. We’d have ended up in bed together by now.

  At some point, I sat up in bed, switched on the lamp and reached for the notepad Reg had given me, to write about the pine martens and ptarmigan I’d seen here and en route. I liked to keep track of the animals I saw, scribbling down little facts and figures I read in books or that I’d picked up along the way. It helped me relax when I didn’t have my camera at hand to soothe me. But that evening it just made me more frustrated as the lines blurred in front of me from tiredness.

  Eventually, I managed to fall asleep, curled up on my side. But then something woke me. I sat bolt upright in bed, blinking into the darkness. It was a sound. A scream maybe?

  I switched my lamp on, flooding the room with light, slid out from beneath the thick duvet and jogged over to the window.

  Another noise. More a loud sob this time and it was definitely coming from outside. I pulled apart the heavy curtains and looked out into the darkness. It had stopped snowing but the ground looked even more blanketed with the white stuff, suggesting the snow had turned heavy while we slept.

  My eyes searched the darkness then came to a stop when I noticed a figure at the edge of the loch in just a dressing gown and slippers, short dark hair to the nape of her neck.

  Heather.

  I yanked my jeans on, which had been drying on the radiator, pulled a jumper over my head, rushed downstairs, grabbed my boots and let myself out. Heather was still there, arms wrapped around her thin frame as she stared out at the loch, sobbing. I ran to her and put my coat around her shoulders. She was freezing to the touch and trembling.

  I thought of the way Dylan had looked out at the loch earlier too, how all of them had.

  At that moment I felt a deep chill in my bones, a different type of chill from the bitter wind that was whipping my hair against my face.

  Something had happened out there.

  Chapter Eight

  Amber

  Winterton Chine

  17 December 2009

  Over the next few days, the winter turns bitter throughout the UK and snow even starts to fall. As it always does when it’s cold, Amber’s left hand stiffens painfully, buzzing with the memory of past pain. She visits Lumin every day in the hospital, hoping each time the young girl will remember something to bring her home. But the memories come in dribs and drabs, small things from her childhood like throwing sticks into a fire and playing in the snow with two dogs.

  The frustration clearly begins to get to Lumin.

  ‘You look exhausted,’ Amber says as she walks in one morning, a bag of muffins made by her mother swinging at her side.

  ‘I’m been having nightmares,’ Lumin mumbles, face ashen. ‘About the man with the beard.’ She’s distant, nibbling at her nails as she stares out of the window.

  ‘Is he hurting you in them?’ Amber asks.

  She shakes her head vehemently. ‘No. He’s the one who looks in pain, reaching out for me.’

  ‘Do you see anyone else in your dreams?’

  ‘No, I just hear people. Crying. Screaming even.’ Lumin thumps the duvet with her pale fist. ‘Why can’t I remember?’

  ‘Hopefully the therapist you’re seeing today will help. They have lots of techniques they can use.’

  Lumin had been assigned to a therapist whom she’d see each day until she was well enough to leave hospital. And then … well, Amber can’t think about that. The thought of the poor girl being taken into care makes her feel ill.

  Lumin yawns and shuffles down her bed, pulling the covers over her shoulders. ‘I’m tired actually. I might have a sleep before the therapy session.’

  ‘Yes, rest,’ Amber says, watching her with concern. Lumin’s been saying that a lot lately, cutting their visits shorter and shorter. Amber was the same after Katy died, the depression and darkness making her unbearably tired. ‘I’ll pop back later to see how the session went.’

  ‘You don’t have to, you know. I’m all right on my own.’

  ‘I want to.’

  ‘But what about your shop?’

  Amber laughs. ‘Not like anyone was buying much from it anyway.’

  ‘But you’re painting it, aren’t you?’

  ‘Not in this weather,’ Amber replied, looking out at the falling snow. Truth is, it isn’t just the snow that is stopping Amber from leaving. She doesn’t want to return home to her empty house. Instead, she wants to stay here, in the company of this girl who makes her laugh and feel like she’s doing something of purpose.

  ‘Really,’ Lumin says firmly. ‘Please get back to your shop. I’ll feel guilty otherwise.’

  ‘Okay,’ Amber says reluctantly. ‘If you insist. But I’ll be back later.’

  Lumin nods, eyelids drooping. ‘See you.’ It seems to Amber as though she drops straight off to sleep. As she leaves the ward, her mind runs over what she can do to avoid going back to her empty flat. She could go to her mum and aunt’s, but she’s not sure she can put up with their constant questions about Jasper. Maybe she should just paint into the night if the snow stops? It’s only three days before the Christmas market starts, after all. But the snow doesn’t look like it’s going to stop and her hand is aching so much. As she’s running over her options, she bumps into the detectives working on Lumin’s case. ‘Any luck?’ she asks.

  Detective Matthews shakes her head. ‘The DNA we took has turned up nothing,’ she says. ‘And there’s no evidence of anyone else’s DNA on her.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief. Hopefully that means she wasn’t deliberately hurt,’ Amber says.

  ‘Doesn’t necessarily rule it out,’ Detective King replies. ‘It’s all still a bit of a mystery, I’m afraid.’

  ‘What’s next?’ Amber asks, crossing her arms.

  ‘Next is a media appeal,’ Detective Matthews says. ‘Lumin was reluctant when we broached it with her before but it’s really getting to the stage where we need the public’s help.’

  ‘Is that why you’re here,’ Amber asks them, ‘to
tell her about the media appeal?’

  The detectives nod.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Amber says.

  ‘No,’ a voice calls out. She turns to see the nurse Jen rushing down the corridor. ‘I can handle it from here.’

  ‘She’ll need a friendly face,’ Amber says, frustrated.

  ‘That’s why I’m here,’ the nurse says, smoothing her uniform. ‘We’ll keep you posted. In fact, it’s probably best you don’t come back later. We have a very poorly child on the ward and the parents have asked to keep noise to a minimum.’

  Amber arches an eyebrow at Jen. ‘You’re saying I’m noisy.’

  ‘Just the laughter might be a bit much,’ the nurse replies in clipped tones.

  ‘Oh, right,’ Amber says, nodding sagely. ‘Laughter’s never good for ill children, is it?’ She shakes her head then storms out. What was it with that nurse? Amber brews over it all the way downstairs. Then she hears footsteps behind her. She turns to see Jasper jogging over, his messy hair flopping up and down.

  ‘Just caught sight of you from the lift,’ he says, out of breath.

  ‘Have you stopped playing football?’ Amber asks, noticing how puffed he looks.

  He laughs as he pats his tummy. ‘Is my pot belly giving me away?’

  ‘Oh, come out, you’re as slim as ever. I’m the one who needs to take up some kind of sport.’

  His face goes serious. ‘You look great actually.’

  Amber looks down at her feet, unable to meet his eyes.

  ‘You didn’t look too happy when I saw you just now,’ he says.

  ‘It’s that bloody nurse friend of yours.’

  Amber explains what happened and Jasper shakes his head. ‘That’s out of order.’

  Amber looks at him in surprise. ‘Wow, you’re not sticking up for her for once.’

  ‘When have I ever stuck up for her?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Amber looks up towards the ward. ‘They’re going to the media with Lumin’s story.’