by Leigh Fallon
“So, Megan, how are you feeling?” Dr. Forrest asked, shining a light into my eyes.
“Okay, I guess. My head hurts.”
“Luckily the wound is superficial, but even so, I’d like to have you under observation for twenty-four hours.” He looked sternly from me to my dad.
My dad squeezed me tighter. “I’ll keep a close watch on her at home.”
Dr. Forrest smiled. “Good. Well, here’s a prescription for the pain. If there’s any swelling or nausea, call me immediately.”
My dad helped me up from the bench and opened the door of the exam room. “We better let Adam know you’re all right.”
“What! He’s still here?” I gasped, stepping into the waiting room. Sure enough, there he was, sitting in a low, comfy chair, a small smile playing on his face.
Oh, cringe. I just wanted to get out of the room. And what was he smiling about, anyway? For God’s sake, it was hardly a big smiley moment.
I couldn’t talk to him with my dad in such close proximity, but Adam’s eyes met mine, this time holding them. What was that in his gaze? Humor? No, but there was something, an intensity. Something had changed. I yearned to know what. His eyes were laden with meaning and questions; I was desperate to know them, to answer them.
“Come on, Meg; I think your sailing career is over. Let’s get you home.” Dad turned to Adam. “Thanks again, Adam; I can’t tell you how grateful I am. She’s all I have and so, so precious.” He said it with such emotion. I felt a mix of intense embarrassment and love for my poor dad.
“No problem, Mr. Rosenberg. I completely understand.” Adam strode across the room and firmly shook Dad’s hand.
I struggled to say something, anything. But the words wouldn’t come. I just stood there, looking at him awkwardly, then shuffled out of the room.
I caught a last look at his exquisite face. He had one hand in his hair and the other held the back of his neck. His eyes, clouded by confusion, followed mine until the door closed silently on his gaze.
Five
AFTERMATH
School on Monday was all drama, drama, drama. Everyone wanted to hear what had happened and how the heroic Adam had come to my rescue. I didn’t really want to relive the experience—it was embarrassing the first time around and it became more so with each retelling.
After first period, Caitlin grabbed my sleeve and pulled me into one of the girls’ bathrooms.
“So, what happened after Adam carried you off?” she asked.
“I passed out, I think. I just remember waking up in the clinic.”
“Did he say anything? Did he mention the accident?”
“No. Why?”
She leaned back against a sink and chewed on her bottom lip for a second. “I swear to God, I saw the freakiest thing.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
“Well, after you fell in, I couldn’t see you for a few seconds. I was shouting and grabbing at the water, but there was no sign of you. Within seconds Adam had dived in and swum to you. Like, I mean, seconds. I’ve never seen anything like it. Then, before he got to you, there was a glow in the water. It’s hard to describe. It looked like a golden light just below the water’s surface. Then suddenly, there you were. I could see you perfectly, but here’s the weird thing. You weren’t in the water. You were under it, but not in it. Your hair was hanging down normally and … and … well, you looked content. I swear to God … I’m so freaked out right now. Nobody else saw it. I’m beginning to think I imagined it all. I was hoping you might remember.” She ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head.
“Caitlin, don’t stress yourself out. Maybe it was the sun playing tricks on the surface of the water.”
“Maybe you’re right. It all happened so fast,” she muttered, looking confused.
The door to the bathroom swung open and Jennifer flounced in. “What are you two doing skulking in here?” She went into a stall and slammed the door shut, but kept talking. “Did you guys hear about Killian’s dog? He followed Killian to school today and one of the school buses ran over him.”
“Oh, no! Is he all right?” Caitlin gasped.
“The bus was doing the poor dog a favor, if you ask me. He’s so decrepit! He should have been put down years ago,” Jennifer replied.
“No, you numpty. I meant Killian,” Caitlin said in exasperation.
“Let me finish! Anyhow … Áine arrives just as it happens and runs over to help the poor mutt. She just put her hands on his head and hey, presto, the dog stood up and headed off home.”
Caitlin and I exchanged startled glances as Jennifer flushed the toilet, opened the door, and walked over to a sink. “How freaky is that? I mean, I could have sworn the wheel rolled over the dog. Then the thing just gets up and trots off. There is something strange about that girl. She’s working some kinda voodoo, if you ask me.” She looked at us with her face all scrunched up. “You don’t find that odd? Am I the only one who thinks it highly unlikely the bus missed all of the dog’s vital organs?”
“It’s a possibility,” I piped up.
“Well, I think it’s weird. But then, when have the DeRíses ever been normal?” Jennifer said, leaning into the mirror and reapplying some lip gloss.
It was pouring at lunchtime, so the boys decided to play indoor soccer. Jennifer went along to support Darren, and Caitlin and I found an unused classroom and sat in two desks at the back. The rain had been falling all day and now it ran in torrents down the windowpane. The glass was all fogged up on the inside, distorting the greenery beyond.
“Caitlin,” I started.
“Yeah,” she replied, not looking up from her soggy sandwich, which she was opening up and peering into in disgust.
“I…”
“Come on; spit it out.” She paused. “Do you know what that is?” She opened her sandwich wide and put it up to my face. I wrinkled up my nose and took a little sniff.
“I’m not sure. Um … cheese, maybe?”
“Well, I’m not risking it.” She threw the sandwich back into the aluminum foil, picked up her apple instead, and took a big bite. “You were saying?”
“Adam.” I paused, thinking where to go from here. “What’s the deal with him?”
“Even after everything we’ve told you, you’re still besotted with him,” she said with a faint smile.
“I’m not besotted.”
“Oh, come on, Meg, be honest with yourself. You are and have been since your first day here. It can’t have escaped your attention that he is fairly taken by you as well,” she continued.
“If he really liked me, he’d ask me out. Anyway, that’s not what I want to talk about. I’ve been thinking—”
“I hope you didn’t strain yourself.” She laughed.
“Seriously, Cait, listen to me. Ever since you told me about seeing that light in the water I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember what happened. I don’t remember a light, but I vaguely remember a warm, floaty feeling.”
“You think there’s something to what I saw?” she asked, leaning toward me.
“There might be. Remember the dancing moths down at the equestrian center? I couldn’t explain that either. Then today there was the incident with the dog and the bus. I think there are too many coincidences with the DeRíses. What’s their story? I mean, they’re not exactly your straightforward, run-of-the-mill family, are they?”
“Far from it. I don’t know all the details, but apparently their parents died in some tragic car accident years ago. They were orphaned and had no other relatives, so an old family friend took them in. They moved around with him for a couple of years and then settled here in Kinsale at the Killeen estate, which has been in their family for generations. That estate has been shrouded in mystery since … well, forever. You’ve heard the stories. And there was the hex that everyone talks about.”
“I haven’t heard that one.”
“Really? Well, the Killeens used to be the big landowners in the area. At some
point, the locals began to resent the land charges they were forced to pay, and then in the summer of 1842 something happened over at the big house and darkness descended on their lands. Literally. Clouds rolled in off the sea and settled over the entire estate. The land turned brown and everything started to die. It was like a plague. The crops failed and the ‘sickness’ radiated out farther and farther until the whole of coastal West Cork had been affected. The townspeople believed the Killeens had hexed their land and town as punishment for their insubordination. But who knows how much of that is true… It was around the time of the Great Famine, and they may have just been looking for someone to blame.”
“Wow. Imagine trying to shake that kind of association.”
“Yeah, that’s got to suck. But honestly, they do nothing to endear themselves to the locals. When they first moved here three years ago, we were all a little bit in love with them. Rían was, like, sizzling hot, and Adam was swoon-worthy, but they were absolutely obnoxious and shunned anyone who tried to make friends with them. Áine was more approachable, but she always lurked in the shadows of her brothers, so we eventually stopped trying. The DeRíses seemed to like the distance, and then all the old stories started popping up again.”
“So who’s the guy in the Land Rover?” I asked, totally engrossed.
“Oh, that’s Fionn.”
“Fee-un?”
“Yeah, the guy who took them in, Fionn Christenson. He is so hot … well, for an oldie, that is. Wait until you see him!” She nibbled the last bits of her apple and then threw the core in the trash. “He’s some sort of consultant, and he travels a lot. When he’s not traveling, he works from home. He has this sexy English accent, so Darren’s convinced he’s working for Her Majesty’s Secret Service … you know … MI5.” She laughed. “Darren and his conspiracy theories!”
“Are you serious?”
She nodded and rolled her eyes.
“What about Rían? Do you have any idea why he’s still hanging around the school?”
“I don’t know what his problem is. He finished school last year, and from what I’d heard, he was due to start at Trinity College this year. I’ll tell you one thing for sure: He’s not too keen on his brother having the blatantly obvious hots for you!”
I flushed. “Áine seems pretty nice, in a strange way,” I said, moving swiftly on from Rían.
“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. Actually she’s been much better since you’ve been here. Before you came she was as bad as the other two. She would always have one of them by her side. They’re a bit overprotective, don’t you think?”
“I guess so. Maybe being orphaned at such a young age made them that way.”
“Maybe.” She looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you really think the DeRíses have magical power?”
“I don’t know what I think. But there is something really odd about them.”
She laughed. “Haven’t I been telling you that all along?”
Six
DINNER
I decided to quit the sailing classes. I hated being a quitter, but the truth was, I was not meant for water. I was better off accepting my fate now; otherwise fate would come looking for me … again. So on Friday, the gang went to the marina and I changed my clothes for dreaded PE. What a way to finish the week. Yuck. After a riveting class of running laps around the hockey field while Miss O’Toole flirted with the groundskeeper, I packed my stuff and headed home. I was red faced and sweaty by the time I got to my house, thanks to the laps and the uphill struggle with my ever-increasing-in-weight backpack. I opened the door and dumped the monstrosity inside.
I tried to shake off my bad mood. I knew I was only cranky because all my friends were currently under the tutelage of the gorgeous Mr. DeRís and I was not. I was just about to head upstairs to take a shower when a text came in on my phone.
Don’t forget. Dinner tonight 7 p.m. I’ll be home to pick you up at 6:30. Dad.
Oh, crap. I had forgotten all about it. Dad wanted to introduce me to the who’s who of Kinsale, most of whom I already knew through idle gossip and their kids who attended the school. He also seemed pretty eager for me to try out a fish restaurant in town, the Crab Cage or the Lobster Pot or something like that.
I got a glass of water and went to my room—my favorite place in the house. White walls, oak floors—and two dormer windows flooded the room with light by day, making it cheerful and homey. It also contained my prize possession, my bed, which I had brought with me from the U.S. It had been my mother’s bed before mine, and it made me feel close to her. Its white wrought-iron headboard was an intricate mesh of flowers and leaves that twisted and spiraled from one side to the other. I threw myself down on the pillows, kicked off my shoes, and tried in vain to piece together all the little bits of oddness that made up Adam DeRís. My eyes wandered to my bookshelves. I glanced at some photos and mementos of my life before Kinsale, a life that I rarely thought of. These things had meant a lot to me a few short months ago, but now their significance had faded.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but it just wasn’t happening. I may as well start getting ready for tonight. I’d just grabbed a towel when something behind me started tapping and scratching. I tiptoed to the window and pulled back the curtain. I wasn’t at all surprised to see my feathered friend sitting on my windowsill. This time I stared back at him. The crow angled his head and glared back at me with his winking eye. I stuck my tongue out at him and went in for a shower.
Feeling refreshed, I got dressed in my soft, comfy jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Then I slicked on a little black mascara and pink lip gloss and threw myself back onto my bed to do my math homework while I waited for Dad to get home.
At six forty-five I heard the key in the front door.
“Megan, are you ready?” Dad called into my room as he passed. “I’m just going to change my shirt and we’ll go, all right?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m ready.” I grabbed my purse and went downstairs to wait for him.
He was down in double-time, smelling nice and his face flushed.
“Ohhh, you’re putting in an extra effort tonight, Dad,” I teased him.
“No more than usual,” he said, carefully inspecting his reflection in the hall mirror.
“Yeah, sure.” I gave him a sidelong look.
There was obviously something very appealing about this restaurant, and I had a feeling it wasn’t the crab cakes. As we pulled away from our house, I looked back. The crow was perched on the highest point of our roof, watching me leave. Was that bird really following me? No. That was insane; birds didn’t stalk people. I pushed the thought out of my head.
The restaurant was lovely, quaint, and totally jam-packed. The food was amazing. Too bad the people surrounding us were so dull. They were bigwigs in town: the superintendent from the Kinsale Gardaí (the Irish police), who, at seven feet tall, towered over us all; as well as the owners of the various town shops and businesses. Killian’s mom and dad were there (Caitlin would be seething that she missed this one). Then there was the owner of the restaurant, Petra Van Meulder. Judging by all my dad’s excessive laughing and beaming, she was the object of his extra efforts.
To be fair, she was lovely and really pretty. Petra told me she was from Holland and that she had come to Ireland to forget a bad divorce and never went home. I appreciated that she was making an extra effort to include me in their conversation, but I couldn’t help feeling like a third wheel. It was great to see Dad actually getting a life, and I wanted to leave them to it. We were just finishing up the meal and thinking of ordering dessert when I saw an opportunity to escape.
I nudged my dad. “Do you mind if I go for a walk?”
“Meg, it’s late. I don’t think so.”
“Caleb, let her go for a walk. It’s very safe around here, and she’s well able to look after herself,” Petra said, giving me an understanding smile.
My dad caved. “Okay, but stay close and don’t be too long, okay?”
“I won’t. I’m just going to wander down to the marina.”
I stepped out into the night air and filled my lungs with a deep, fresh breath. I exhaled slowly, looking up at the stars, and then started walking along the waterline. The yachts swayed gently where they were moored, creating a musical tinkling sound. I punched in the code to the jetty at the marina and opened the gate. Finally I found a secluded spot and sat down between two big yachts. I let my feet dangle over the edge, toward the water. Funny, it didn’t look scary at night. In fact, it had an almost magical quality in the dark.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice the person gliding quietly up the gangway in my direction. The flat, calm water shimmered and pulsated, then rose slightly up, as if there was something just below the surface. I watched in amazement as the water took on a life of its own and followed the person as he walked along the wooden jetty and then moved out of sight behind a boat. I shrank back into the shadows of the yachts as he walked past.
“Adam,” I breathed quietly, enjoying the tingling sensation that ran through me.
He was wearing heavy sailing pants, boots, and a padded sleeveless jacket. He climbed nimbly into the yacht beside me and disappeared inside. My heart was pounding. Then I heard the flapping sound and a cawing. I looked up. That freaky crow was sitting on the railing of the yacht, his head cocked to the side, watching me.
“Go away,” I whispered, but he cawed down to me again and disappeared in between the boats. Just then two big boots hit the deck above my head and Adam peered down over the railing, squinting into the darkness.
“Who’s there?” He turned on a flashlight and shone it down in my direction.
I played with the idea of pulling myself farther into the shadows and hiding, but quickly realized that it was virtually impossible.