‘Love you?’ he said.
I swallowed. ‘Do you?’
He stepped towards me. ‘Do you love me?’
A branch cracked then. We both turned to see a man standing watching us from a few metres away. He was dishevelled and slightly unsteady on his feet.
Dylan stepped away from me, looking uncomfortable. ‘Gavin,’ he said to the man. ‘What are you doing here?’
Gavin. Up close, he looked different from the last time I saw him, when he’d given me a lift to the train station all those years ago. Bloated, skin red and blotchy, eyes bloodshot.
He laughed bitterly at Dylan. ‘How am I? How can you even ask that with another Christmas approaching, our eighteenth without her? Can you even comprehend how that feels?’
Dylan’s face went ashen. I looked between them. Who were they talking about?
Dylan’s eyes dropped to something Gavin was holding in his hand. I followed his gaze to see it was a chisel. In his other hand was a block of wood.
‘Oh, yes, this,’ Gavin said, lifting the wood. It was the initialled carved sign I’d seen on the barn Dylan had made, engraved with D E C.
‘Half of it belongs to me by rights, doesn’t it? Like this land.’ Gavin spat. ‘So I’m taking it.’
‘Of course, Gavin, take it,’ Dylan replied in a conciliatory tone, like he was talking to a child.
‘I say half, but I own more than half of this land, don’t I?’ Gavin said, stumbling slightly as he spread his arms out and looked around him. ‘I own all of this. Mine, not the McCluskys’.’
‘That hasn’t been proven yet.’
Gavin suddenly stormed towards Dylan and me. Dylan quickly moved in front of me, protecting me. But there was no need: Gavin just walked past us. ‘Not long until it is,’ he shouted over his shoulder.
‘Is everything okay?’ I asked.
‘Just some stupid, long-drawn-out argument over land,’ Dylan shot back. ‘Let’s head back.’
I knew he wasn’t telling me the whole story. But I just had to take him at his word. I sighed and followed Dylan as Gavin veered off, heading towards the other side of the loch to get to his house. When Dylan and I reached the lodge, I could see the farmhouse clearly across the loch beneath the winter sun. I watched as Gavin’s wife Rosa appeared, a small speck in the distance. Gavin stumbled towards her and sank to his knees, sobbing as he looked up at her.
As Rosa slowly bent down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her head pressed gently against his, she looked up and noticed me watching. Then she stared at the loch, taking in its icy surface.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amber
Audhil Loch
23 December 2009
The loch has iced up, the snow settling onto it. Amber takes it all in: the stunning mountain, the snow-tipped trees beyond them, the burnt lodge. No doubt once as beautiful as its surroundings but now charred and broken.
What had happened to it?
Lumin seems to be thinking the same as she regards it, her lips pursed into a straight line.
They draw closer. While the building’s ground floor has clearly fallen into disrepair, with boarded-up windows soggy with moss and evidence of fire damage here and there, it’s more intact than the second floor, where the main damage appears to have happened. The roof has collapsed on one side, snow gathering at its jagged charred edges, ice spreading over the rotting black wood making it look like a beetle’s shell.
It would have amazing in its prime. It must have once cost a fortune to buy, but the way the moss and the weeds curl high up towards the roof suggest it’s been a long time since it was burnt and it has been left neglected.
Lumin pauses, gets her drawing out of her bag and compares it to the lodge. Amber looks over her shoulder. It’s definitely the right one. The two peaks of the mountains behind are exactly the same and the lake in front curves towards the lodge just as it does in Lumin’s drawing.
Tears gather at the corners of Lumin’s eyes. ‘This is it, isn’t it? This is the place. It’s not just the drawing. I remember that tree,’ she says, pointing to a rowan tree to the side of the house. Then she rushes over to a wooden bench, her face alight. ‘I have a memory! I built a snowman here. I was so happy.’ Then the smile drops from her face as she turns back to the lodge. ‘But then this. What happened to this place?’
Amber, who has followed her, puts her hand on Lumin’s shoulder, squeezing it.
‘I want to go in,’ Lumin says.
‘I don’t know if we can. It might not be safe.’
‘I have to.’ She starts marching towards the house. Amber stays where she is for a moment, taking in the determined curl of Lumin’s fists and the way she continually stumbles in the snow but doesn’t let it faze her, just carries on like it never happened, the ridiculously long rainbow scarf Amber has lent her lifting in the air with every step she takes. She has the guts Amber had as a child. The determination that sent Amber out onto the snow when she shouldn’t have. She feels the battle inside, for caution, for freedom. Will Lumin put herself at risk by going into a half-burnt building? But what if she doesn’t, what secrets will she miss out on?
‘You have to be careful,’ Amber says as she follows her. They walk up and try the door but it’s locked. ‘Let’s look at the back of the house,’ Amber says.
As they walk around the back, they take in the vast garden, the upturned garden chairs laced with snow. There’s a large decking area looking out towards the mountains. Whoever owned this place once cared for it, judging from the little touches like the large ornamental pot holding a dead apple tree nearby. But it’s fallen into such disrepair, plants allowed to grow wild and die, garden furniture rotten or broken.
How long has it been like this?
Amber thinks of Lumin’s memory of the bearded man shouting out for her, the women crying. Maybe that had all happened when the lodge caught fire?
‘The back door’s locked too,’ Lumin says in frustration as she tries the French doors at the back.
Amber notices a slim floor-to-ceiling broken window to the side of the house. It isn’t boarded over like the others. She walks over to it and pretends to stumble, her shoulder ramming into the glass. The glass shatters and Lumin looks over in surprise. ‘Oops, I fell into it,’ Amber says.
Lumin’s lips widen into a smile. ‘You clumsy oaf.’
‘Yep, that’s me.’ Amber clears the edges of glass, pleased she’s wearing thick gloves. She helps Lumin step in first before following her. They find themselves in a corridor, dark and freezing cold. Though the fire was no doubt many years ago, the smell of smoke still lingers. A long shelf stands next to the window, a range of books on it, some fallen to the floor, spines broken. Lumin crouches down to look at one: it’s a Peter Rabbit book. ‘This rings a bell,’ she says.
She slips it into her bag then walks down the corridor as Amber follows. At the end of the corridor is a small utility room with various appliances. There’s even a laundry basket on the side with dusty clothes in it, some of which are covered in birds’ droppings.
The downstairs really does seem to have escaped the worst of the fire. People must have been here to witness it and to call a fire engine to save half of it. But now it stands abandoned, neither rebuilt nor knocked down
‘It’s like everyone bolted,’ Lumin murmurs. ‘They didn’t even finish their washing.’
Amber takes her glove off, smooths her fingers over a shelf, brings away a thick layer of dust. ‘Looks like it’s been like this for a while too.’
They step into a vast kitchen, thick curtains drawn across the windows making the room dark. Lumin goes over to the curtains and sweeps them open, and light rushes over a large island laden with rotting food. Amber puts her hand over her nose and mouth, trying to block out the terrible smell.
‘It must’ve been Christmas when the fire started,’ Lumin says, her hand over her mouth too as she gestures to some packaging for a Christmas pudding.
‘
Certainly looks like it,’ Amber says, picking up a bottle of spiced mulled wine. ‘How awful for it to have happened over Christmas.’
‘Christmas,’ Lumin whispers to herself. Then she suddenly marches out of the kitchen. ‘I just had a memory and if it’s right, there was once a Christmas tree in the living room, a huge one.’
‘Wait!’ Amber shouts, jogging to keep up with her.
As she steps into the hallway, she steps into snow. Lumin has stopped in her tracks and is staring upwards, mouth open. Amber follows her gaze to see a huge hole in the roof revealing snow-laden skies. Snow floats down, landing on their cheeks and eyelashes. Amber looks around her. The whole floor of the hallway and the stairway is blanketed with snow. Nearby, some shelves catch her eye. On one of them is a wooden sculpture of a bird flying across the sky, its snowy wings spread out.
Lumin follows her gaze then walks over and picks the sculpture up. ‘It’s beautiful.’
Amber can see a sticker on the bottom of the sculpture. It features a small drawing of a tree and three words: Dylan McClusky Designs.
‘Do you have your notepad?’ she asks Lumin.
Lumin hands it over. Amber flicks through it, examining the sketches inside. Then she nods. ‘Same kind of drawing.’
‘Yes, it is.’ She looks at the name on the sticker. and traces her finger over it. ‘Dylan. Something about that name …’ She closes her eyes for a moment then scrunches her hands in frustration. ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know!’
‘You said there was a living room?’ Amber says.
Lumin nods, her eyes searching the hallway. Then she points towards two double doors to their left. ‘I think it’s in there. I remember a Christmas tree in the window, a huge window.’
They both walk towards the doors and Lumin opens them and steps inside. Sadness flickers across her face as she takes everything in. Amber follows her gaze to see the remains of a large Christmas tree lying across the living room, its brown branches scattered across two large sofas. Baubles are strewn over the floor, some of them broken.
Lumin crouches down to look at a large glass silver star lying in pieces at her feet. ‘What happened here?’ she asks, peering up at the broken ceiling, snow clinging to her eyelashes.
Amber squeezes her shoulder. ‘Let’s try to find out who owned this place.’ She goes over to a bureau that stands at the back of the room and carefully opens it. Stuffed into one of the sections is a bunch of letters. She pulls them out, flicking through them.
‘McClusky,’ she says, showing them to Lumin. ‘Mr and Mrs Oscar McClusky. Maybe you’re a McClusky.’
‘Lumin McClusky,’ Lumin whispers.
‘Looks like the McCluskys ran a company, McClusky Lodges.’
Amber looks over the letters as Lumin walks around the room, picking items up and placing them back down. There are magazines and books under the coffee table, from children’s magazines to political biographies. She gets the sense this was a real family home, the whole family coming together for Christmas. Remnants of festive wrapping paper lie dusty on the floor, and there’s a pretty metal ornament that holds a variety of cards addressed to ‘Oscar, Mairi and the family’.
Just a normal Christmas Day, preparing lunch and opening presents. And then a fire broke out. Many years later, one of the children who might have been there that day turns up on an icy beach on the other end of the country with no memory.
Amber sighs and looks back down at the paperwork. ‘I think McClusky Lodges built houses like this around the world,’ she murmurs after a while. ‘Dylan, the person who did those sculptures, was the chief builder. A man called Cole McClusky was the financial director. Oscar owned it. Looks like Dylan and Cole are brothers and Oscar is their father.’
Lumin strolls over. ‘A family business then. Any mention of a Lumin?’
‘Nothing.’
Lumin sighs then looks around her, eyes alighting on a pretty china doll. She goes to it and picks it up, hugging it to herself and breathing in its smell. ‘Maybe this was mine,’ she says as she fingers a now filthy pink dress. Her eyes fill with tears and Amber goes to her and puts a comforting hand on her small shoulder. ‘Why the bloody hell can’t I remember though?’
Amber pulls her into a hug. ‘We’re going to find the people who lived here. We have their names, the address of a house they’re associated with, maybe even lived in. Look,’ Amber says, wiping the tears from Lumin’s face, ‘this place isn’t going to run off, is it? Let’s get to our hotel before we get stuck in the snow, and look on the internet. We can search for the McClusky family then start making some calls. I bet you’ll be back with your family within a few days.’
Lumin takes a deep breath. ‘I hope so.’
As Lumin walks over to the vast windows, Amber can’t help but feel a trickle of sadness. Will Lumin forget Amber when she’s reunited with her family? Will Amber be just a distant memory in her past, one day, like the memories she’s gathering here? They will return to the lives they had before. What did that mean for Amber? More loneliness, the battle to keep the shop open. Her heart sank.
‘There’s another house,’ Lumin says, interrupting her thoughts ‘Look.’
Amber walks over to stand by her and notices a grey farmhouse in the distance, lights twinkling in the windows. ‘Looks like the McCluskys had neighbours. Let’s go see them, they might have some answers.’
‘Like how this place caught fire,’ Lumin adds, peering up the charred roof above, her face filled with shadows.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gwyneth
Audhil Loch
22 December 1996
Wolves once walked the Highlands of Scotland but were driven away by hunting and persecution, which included setting fire to the forests in which they roamed.
Dinner with the McCluskys that evening felt somehow different from the last time. I wondered if it might be because of Lumin being here and because I’d withheld her from them for almost five years. But as I observed them, I realised the tension wasn’t with me. It was with each other. After an exciting day, they all seemed exhausted, the smiles less frequent. Dylan and Cole were barely talking to one another, Mairi seemed to have a permanent crease in her forehead and the rest of the family were strangely subdued.
I also noticed other little things: the maid they once had was gone. The food and drink were less extravagant than they were last time. Everyone seemed a bit less polished. Lumin was of course oblivious to it though, chatting away to her newly found cousins as Dylan watched them with a smile on his face.
After, we all sat in the vast living room as the kids played games. Before too long, Lumin started yawning.
‘I think it’s bedtime for you,’ I said, starting to get up. ‘We had a long journey today.’
‘Can Dylan read to me, Mummy?’ she asked.
I paused. ‘Sure.’
Dylan’s face lit up and Mairi smiled. ‘How about I run you a bath, sweetheart?’ Mairi asked Lumin. ‘I’ll get you all snug and ready then Daddy can come read to you.’
Lumin nodded shyly and walked upstairs with Dylan and Mairi.
‘Here,’ Rhonda said, bringing a glass of wine over to me after they left. ‘Looks like you need this.’
I took a thankful sip. ‘It feels so weird not being the one to put Lumin to bed.’
‘I’m sure you’ll get used to it. How’s it all going?’
‘Good. Lumin seems to love it here. And she and Dylan …’ I smiled, shaking my head. ‘They’re two peas in a pod.’
‘What about you and Dylan?’ Rhonda asked, taking a sip of her own wine and tilting her head as she examined my face. ‘Are you two peas in a wooden hut in the mountains again?’
I felt my cheeks flush. ‘No, it’s not like that this time.’
‘Well, whatever happens between you both, it’s great to have you here. I can see the change in him already, the weight lifted off his shoulders now he is back in your life.’
‘In Lumin’s life. This
isn’t about me and Dylan.’
Her gaze penetrated mine. ‘Isn’t it?’
I leant back in my chair, nursing my wine. ‘Maybe just a little bit. I’d reconciled myself to never seeing him again, then all of a sudden I’m staying in his family’s house for Christmas, just like the first time.’
‘Maybe it’s just what’s meant to be. I can see it with the two of you, the electricity. Everyone can. It’s fate.’
I laughed. ‘You really believe all that?’
‘Sure, why not? I’m not ashamed of being a romantic old fool. Cole’s the one for me, I knew it from the moment I met him.’
I thought back to what Dylan had said about their marriage being a way for Cole to stop her blurting out their secret, whatever that secret was.
We both fell silent, staring out towards the mountain beyond. ‘Dylan and I did take a walk in the mountains earlier actually,’ I said. ‘We bumped into Gavin, the guy who lives in the farmhouse?’
Rhonda took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I see.’
‘It was strange. He was drunk, kept going on about the land being his. And—’ I paused. ‘He mentioned a girl too. That it’s been eighteen Christmases without her?’
Rhonda looked quickly towards her husband then away. ‘I don’t know anything about that but I do know Oscar and Mairi are wrapped up in a land dispute with Gavin and Rosa Howard.’ She lowered her voice, leaning towards me. ‘Did you notice the housekeeper had to be let go, the gardener too?’
‘I did notice.’
‘Mairi and Oscar are ploughing all the money they have into the lawsuit. It’s been rolling for five years now.’ She looks back towards Oscar. ‘I think that’s what brought on Oscar’s stroke. It happened within a few weeks of the court case starting.’
‘But what claim do the Howards have on the land?’
Rhonda sighed. ‘I don’t know the exact details. But I did overhear something about the land once belonging to the Howard clan. Then Mairi’s father hoodwinked Gavin’s father out of it when he was lying on his deathbed.’
The Family Secret Page 24