The Family Secret

by Tracy Buchanan

  ‘Gwyneth,’ Lumin whispers. ‘Dylan.’

  ‘Dylan McClusky?’ Amber asks, remembering the business letters she’d seen in the lodge.

  Rosa nods. ‘The name gives it away. Gwyneth and Dylan had a daughter called Lumin.’

  Lumin lets out a sob, putting her hand to her mouth. ‘Finally!’ she cries.

  Amber puts her hand on the girl’s back, trying to quiet the mixed feelings whirring in her own head. Her happiness for Lumin is tainted with a sudden worry over what she’ll say to Detective King in the inevitable phone call she’ll have to make soon. Of course she is pleased Lumin now knows who her family are, but what does this mean for them both? Will she see Lumin again?

  No, she’s being selfish. This is good for Lumin.

  She looks at Rosa, forcing a smile. ‘So where are Lumin’s parents now?’ she asks.

  ‘I believe your mother moved to Iceland with you,’ Rosa says to Lumin.

  ‘That will explain why no one recognised you in the UK press!’ Amber says. ‘Is Lumin’s mother still there now?’

  Rosa shrugs. ‘I really don’t know, I lost track after that.’

  ‘What about my dad?’ Lumin asks. ‘Is he in Iceland too?’

  Rosa looks at her with sad eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Lumin. But your father passed away in the fire that claimed the lodge.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gwyneth

  Iceland

  12 September 2009

  While not native to Iceland, polar bears occasionally travel there on ice floes, arriving starving due to their journey. But without the protection of their family, and being perceived as a threat to the community, many are shot on arrival.

  ‘Lunch!’ I called out to Lumin. ‘Don’t forget your lunch.’

  Lumin sighed, walked back towards me and reached for the lunch I’d packed for her train journey. I held it back. ‘Hug first.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Mum! I’m going to be late. And we’ve already hugged a zillion times.’

  ‘Just one more.’

  She sighed and let me pull her towards me, wrapping her slim arms around my shoulders. I felt her cheek expand against mine, a secret smile. She loved my hugs really, even if she tried to deny it.

  ‘Got everything?’ I said, trying to hide the nerves I was feeling. It was ridiculous. She was the one going off to university for the first time, not me.

  ‘Everything,’ she said. ‘And if I haven’t, you can always post it to me. Or I’ll get it when I come back in a few weeks.’

  I nodded. ‘True. You have all your paperwork, your books?’

  ‘Mum! I’ll be fine.’

  ‘I love you,’ I said softly, stroking her blonde hair from her eyes … eyes that looked so like Dylan’s. Not the colour but the way they slanted slightly, oval-shaped, hypnotic.

  Oh, if only Dylan was here to witness this! He’d be so proud, our daughter going off to study art at Reykjavik University. It wasn’t just that she was starting university, but also that she would be studying in her second language. We’d lived here for eight years now so it wasn’t like she wasn’t fluent but still, it would daunt most people.

  Not our girl though, I thought to myself. And I knew that would have filled her father with pride.

  Tears flooded my eyes as I remembered the last time I saw Dylan. He’d given his life for our daughter, so that she’d continue living and breathing and thriving. He’d rushed into that fire without hesitation, plucking her from the flames just as he’d plucked me from that icy lake all those years ago. I’d had to watch it all from outside, my heart in my mouth until I finally saw Dylan carry Lumin onto the flame-filled landing, ready to bring her downstairs to safety.

  But then the landing had begun to collapse. I could see it in his eyes as he looked out at me. He knew. He’d called out to Cole, and thrown Lumin down to him. Cole caught her, thank God. But it was too late for Dylan as the landing collapsed and he had no choice but to stumble back, right into the fire. But there was this look on his face as he did so. Relief he’d saved his daughter. And yes, maybe relief he’d no longer need to remember the death of a friend.

  I’ve never felt so torn. Of course, Lumin’s safety was my priority as Cole laid her on the ground but the sound of Mairi’s cries for her son, the gasps of Glenn and Cole trying to battle through the flames to get to their beloved brother … for a moment I wanted to run in too.

  But my daughter needed me.

  As the sound of sirens pierced the air and Lumin was carried carefully into the ambulance, I watched the firemen bring the fire under control. I saw with surprise how untouched the downstairs was. I kept telling myself that Dylan had fallen to the ground, would just have a few broken bones. We had just become a family, I couldn’t bear the thought that he wouldn’t have survived.

  I repeated this over and over to myself as we rode in the ambulance to the hospital, Lumin’s little hand in mine, the sight of the gas mask over her tiny face so harrowing. Dylan had to be fine. It allowed me to focus on our daughter. But deep down inside, I knew there was a big chance he hadn’t survived. I just wasn’t ready to admit it.

  When Lumin was given the all-clear, I left her cubicle to find the others. I saw Cole first, head in his hands. He looked up when I came to him and I knew from the look in his eyes that Dylan was gone.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ he’d said. ‘He died because of me. Eleanor died because of me.’

  I don’t remember what I said, what I did. I just knew that my whole world felt like it had collapsed.

  I never saw the McCluskys again. Mairi tried to make contact with a heartfelt letter asking to see her granddaughter, all that remained of her son. I told her I needed time. She passed away the next year from cancer. Cole told me of Mairi’s death in one of the packages he sent for Lumin throughout the years, filled with presents and cards from the family. Did I regret not taking Lumin to Mairi sooner? Maybe if I’d known she was dying, I would have. But all I learnt that day, the callous way she was able to watch a girl die to save her land, made me reluctant for Lumin to be part of that.

  Instead, I’d got on with my life. I had to deal with a child who was contending with the trauma of seeing her father die. A girl who had nightmares of that awful day … and of a story she’d overheard us arguing about, of a girl who had drowned in the lake. Nightmares of fire and ice. I had to bring her back to stability and normality; back to Northumberland and the life we had before. And then, five years later, I received an unexpected call from Hekla.

  ‘I know you film wildlife,’ she said, ‘but fancy a commission filming humans?’ She needed someone to document the work of her foundation, Artists Without Boundaries. It was ideal, six weeks in Iceland over the summer holidays. A free holiday for Lumin and a chance to immerse herself in a different culture. We loved it, and in the process I found myself with another job, documenting the arrival and care of a polar bear who had arrived on an ice floe. And then I resumed my plans to film wildlife in abandoned buildings throughout Iceland, a major UK production company buying into the idea.

  One day, we visited the barn where Dylan had based himself in Iceland.

  ‘I want to stay,’ Lumin had said. ‘I can feel Daddy here.’ So that was it, we did. We had no ties to the UK any more, after all. It was time to focus on each other, and what we needed to do to be happy again. Iceland was the answer. With Asher and Hekla’s help, we turned the barn into a home, just as Dylan had dreamed of doing, his wooden sculptures lining the windowsills.

  Lumin was right, I could feel him there too.

  ‘You’ll be fine without me, won’t you?’ Lumin asked, concern etched on her pretty face. ‘I mean, I know you have Asher and Hekla. But you won’t get too lonely, will you?’

  I laughed. ‘Don’t worry about your old mum! You’re always out and about with your friends anyway. It’s not like I’m not used to being alone most of the time. And that’s fine,’ I added as I saw her face drop. ‘I don’t get lonely. Alone, but not lonel
y.’

  Hadn’t I said that once before to her father? Truth was, I did get lonely. The family life I’d dreamed of had gone with Dylan. Of course, I had a family life with Lumin. But I yearned for more than that, a whole family to love my daughter … and yes, me. I’d been without that for too long.

  Lumin squeezed my hand. ‘You don’t have to be alone, Mum. You could try to make contact with your parents.’ She paused. ‘My grandparents.’

  I shook my head. ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘Then try me. I’m not a kid any more, I’m grown up enough to handle whatever it is you’ve been keeping from me about them.’

  ‘It’s ancient history,’ I quickly said. ‘I want to live in the here and now.’

  ‘But how can you live in the here and now if you haven’t got to grips with the past yet?’ She dropped her bag to the floor and crossed her arms, giving me a stubborn look. ‘I won’t go until you tell me.’

  ‘But your train leaves in thirty minutes!’

  ‘That gives us ten minutes,’ she said, looking at her watch. She put her hand on her hip. ‘So?’

  I took a deep breath. Then I told her everything.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Amber

  Audhild Loch

  23 December 2009

  Lumin puts her hand to her mouth. ‘No! He can’t be dead!’

  Amber places her hand on Lumin’s arm, tears flooding her own eyes as she looks out towards the burnt lodge that had claimed Lumin’s father’s life.

  ‘Your father died saving you,’ Rosa says, leaning forward and clasping Lumin’s hand. ‘He’s a hero.’

  ‘But he’s not here! He’s dead! How could I have not remembered something so important?’ Lumin jumps up and runs from the room.

  Amber goes to chase her but Rosa grabs her wrist. ‘Don’t. She just needs time.’

  Amber sits back down, putting her head in her hands as she tries to take it all in. ‘When did it happen?’

  ‘Thirteen years ago,’ Rosa says. ‘Lumin was four, maybe five. We saw the flames from our house. We were celebrating. We’d had the first bit of good news in years: we’d won a court battle for the land the lodge stood on. And then it nearly burnt to the ground.’

  ‘How did the fire start?’

  ‘Candles. Mairi, Dylan’s mother, was a stickler for tradition. Each Christmas, she’d light candles in the windows, sending a signal to travellers that all guests were welcome. That’s how Gwyneth and I met, she was one of those guests. Her car broke down on the way back from a shoot. She’s a wildlife documentary-maker, you see.’

  ‘Ah,’ Amber says. ‘That explains the notebook we found on Lumin. Did they live in the lodge then, Lumin and her parents? Before she moved to Iceland with her mother?’

  ‘No,’ Rosa said. ‘That was what was so tragic about it. Dylan had only just discovered he had a daughter and they were spending their first Christmas together. By all accounts, it looks like the three of them were making plans to set up home together. Then tragedy struck.’

  ‘God, that’s so sad.’

  ‘Yes, it’s all such a waste.’ Rose peers into the living room at the painting of the young girl. ‘I know too much about wasted lives.’

  Amber follows her gaze. ‘Can I ask who she is?’

  ‘My daughter, Eleanor. She was once best friends with the older McClusky boys, would play in the mountains, build things. I’m sure she would have ended up working for the McCluskys if she hadn’t died.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. What happened?’

  ‘The lake. She got trapped under the ice and drowned.’

  Amber puts her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh God. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘There are no words.’ Rosa looks out at the loch. ‘I remember the first time Eleanor met the McClusky boys. She was so excited to have some kids to play with. To think Mairi and I used to watch them all play together as children.’ She smiles to herself, tears filling her eyes. ‘We even joked they might one day marry, Eleanor and Dylan … or his brother, Cole.’ Her expression changes, her eyes darkening. ‘Cole visited me not long after his brother died, confessed it all.’

  ‘Confessed? Amber asks, confused.

  Rosa looks back at Amber. ‘Eleanor found proof we owned the land the McCluskys’ lodge stood on. She confronted them the day she died. Cole told me she was so scared by his mother’s reaction, she ran away across the loch. That’s when she fell through the ice.’ She puts her hand to her mouth, shaking her head. ‘Cole was there, right there at the banks of the loch. And he did nothing.’

  Amber’s mouth drops open. ‘He didn’t help her?’

  Rosa shakes her head, tears now falling down her cheeks as she relives what happened. ‘He told me he wanted to teach my daughter a lesson. He insisted he was planning to help her.’ Her voice breaks. ‘But he left it too late.’

  Amber leans forward, clasping the woman’s hand. ‘Did you go to the police?’

  Rosa wipes her tears away. ‘Of course not. That family had been through enough.’

  Amber leans back against the sofa, suddenly exhausted.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Rosa says. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about it.’

  ‘Please, don’t apologise. It must bring back memories, seeing Lumin?’ Rosa nods. ‘You mentioned you’ve lost track of Lumin’s mother. Is it the same with the rest of the family?’ Amber asks her.

  ‘I believe Cole is living in London now, new wife, new job in the city. Heather works in Paris as some avant garde film-maker. Glenn is now writing adult books. Alison runs workshops for divorced women. I hear all this from Oscar when I see him down the pub.’

  Amber thinks of the old man they’d seen sitting in the pub. Of course, she hadn’t clicked before. ‘I think we saw him earlier.’

  Rosa sighs sadly. ‘Drinking himself to death, just like my husband did.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’

  ‘The grief was too much. I found my husband, there by the lake,’ Rosa says, eyes glancing over to the side of the lake. There’s a beautiful wooden carving of a girl staked into the ground there. ‘Dylan made that for us after Eleanor died. We threw it in the attic. But after my husband died, I dug it out, a memorial to them all.’ Rosa smiles as she glances at Amber’s mug. ‘You’ve barely touched your hot chocolate.’

  Amber picks it up, breathing in the sweet scent. She takes a sip, letting it calm her mind.

  ‘Lumin’s lucky to have had you to help her,’ Rosa says, taking a sip of her own chocolate. ‘To come all this way to track down her family. You must be exhausted.’

  ‘I am,’ Amber admits.

  Rosa looks out at the snow. ‘Best not do any driving in that. Why don’t you stay the night?’

  ‘I need to call the police in charge of Lumin’s case. It’ll be up to them what we do.’

  ‘They can’t control the snow … nor the phone reception,’ Rosa adds. ‘All the lines are down.’

  Amber looks at her phone and sees she has no reception. ‘The cell network seems to be down too.’ She’s relieved as it gives her an excuse not to face Detective King’s disapproval.

  ‘There, that decides it. You must stay.’

  ‘If you’re sure?’ she asks Rosa. ‘I don’t want to impose.’

  ‘It’s no bother, really. In fact, it’ll be nice to have the company.’

  ‘Do you live alone now?’ Amber asks.

  ‘No,’ Rosa replies with a smile. ‘I live here with my fiancé, Daren. He’s on a business trip at the moment. Typical he goes on the snowiest weekend of the year so far. No doubt he’ll be stuck there.’

  ‘Hopefully not for Christmas. It’s good you’ve moved on.’

  ‘I don’t really like the phrase “moved on”,’ Rosa says. ‘It suggests I’ve left the world that was occupied by my daughter. I haven’t, she’s still here. I’ve just adapted my surroundings to take into account the space she’s left.’

  ‘I get it,’ Amber says, nodding sadly.


  ‘You’ve lost someone too?’

  ‘My little girl. She was four.’

  Rosa quickly puts her mug down and places her hand over Amber’s. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Amber smiles weakly. ‘It’s fine, it’s been ten years.’

  ‘Time doesn’t really heal though, does it? It still comes in waves.’

  Amber nods, pressing her lips together to stop the tears coming. ‘It was meningitis. It was so quick,’ she says. ‘One minute we were rushing her into hospital, the next …’ She lets her voice trail off as the memories bombard her. ‘I loved her so much. I miss her so much.’

  Amber is surprised when she starts sobbing. Really sobbing. Rosa pulls her into her arms, and Amber sobs into this stranger’s neck. After a while, Rosa begins to cry too, two mothers grieving over their lost children.

  Then the door creaks open and Lumin appears in the room.

  ‘Amber? What’s wrong?’ she says in surprise. Then she runs over and sits on the other side of Amber, hugging her close.

  Amber wipes her tears away, laughing. ‘This is so silly. We’ve come here for you, and yet here I am, sobbing my heart out for me.’

  ‘Is it about Katy?’ she asks gently.

  Amber nods.

  ‘I’ll make us something to eat,’ Rosa says, getting up.

  ‘You must miss her so much,’ Lumin says, eyes exploring Amber’s face as Rosa potters about the kitchen.

  ‘I do. Every second of every day.’

  Lumin is quiet for a moment. ‘I heard everything Rosa said,’ she whispers eventually. ‘It’s all so awful.’

  ‘I know. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise I’d be leading you into such a tragic story.’

  ‘It’s not your fault!’ She glances at the painting of Eleanor in the living room. ‘I also heard what she said about not really moving on, but adapting to her surroundings. Do you think you’ve done that?’

  Amber wipes her tears away. ‘I think so. I have my own place, the gift shop.’ But as she caught sight of her mascara-streaked face reflected in a window, she wasn’t convinced she had.