Authors: Sophie McKenzie
‘I wasn’t sucking up earlier,’ he says. ‘I just don’t see the point in making a big fuss about everything like Josh and Pepper do.’
‘Right.’ I don’t quite know what to say. On the one hand, he’s right about there not being much point in moaning. On the other, you can’t just let grown-ups walk
all over you.
There’s a long pause.
‘What were you talking to Mr Lomax about earlier?’ Kit asks. ‘Is everything OK?’
I chew on my lip, stumped again. Here in the light of day it seems silly to even consider the possibility of ghosts, but the coincidences still remain. I’m torn between explaining
everything to Kit and keeping quiet about my suspicions. In the end, I just tell him that the figure I’m sure I saw in the woods resembles the woman described in the newspaper article who, in
turn, sounds like my real mum.
‘So it’s all seems a bit weird . . . that they look alike, you know . . . blonde, dying on the same day . . .?’
I’m hoping Kit will nod and agree with me. Instead, he frowns. ‘Yeah, I can see it’s a bit weird, but as a coincidence it doesn’t really add up, does it?’
‘Oh?’ I say, feeling thrown. I keep my voice carefully light: ‘Why is that?’
‘Well, I don’t mean to be nosy, but how was your mum supposed to have died?’
‘Everything I’ve been told or read says she was in a traffic accident in Nottingham, a hit-and-run.’
‘Right.’ Kit frowns again. ‘ So if your mum
was
the woman pushed into the sea, why would anyone go to the trouble to retrieve her body and leave it on a road hundreds
of miles away?’
‘Presumably so that no one would connect her death with Lightsea,’ I say.
‘OK . . . but how would they make it look like a hit-and-run? I mean she wouldn’t have the right injuries on her body.’
I wince. ‘The rocks in the sea could leave bruises that might look the same as those from a lorry.’
‘What about the fact that there would be water in her lungs?’ Kit persists. ‘You wouldn’t expect to find that if someone had been run over in a road accident. And all
those details would be in the post-mortem.’
‘Maybe,’ I concede, my face flushing. ‘But post-mortems can be faked, can’t they?’
‘I guess, but it seems
really
unlikely.’ Kit turns to face me, varnish brush in hand. ‘Look, I’m just saying it’s strange and . . . and don’t take
this the wrong way – but . . . well, does it make all that much difference? Your birth mum is gone, which is very, very sad, but knowing exactly how she died isn’t going to change
anything.’
I focus on the patch of wood I’m slathering with varnish, pretending I’m brushing it carefully. Inside I turn over what Kit has said. Like Mr Lomax, he sounds cool, logical and
rational. But like Mr Lomax he’s wrong. It
does
matter how Irina died. And I can’t discount the possibility that her death happened here, just because it can’t be
explained rationally.
We work on in silence for a few more minutes.
‘Evie?’ I look up to find Kit shuffling along the boat towards me. He stops about an arm’s length away, then puts his hand on an unvarnished bit of wood next to mine so our
fingers are almost touching. My heart gives another little skip.
‘There’s something else,’ he says.
My pulse thunders in my ears. Kit looks self-conscious, his cheeks flushing bright red. I hold my breath. What is coming next?
Kit and I carry on looking at each other, the brushes in our hands forgotten. I’m still holding my breath, waiting for him to speak. I could count every freckle on his
nose, except that I seem to have lost the power to do anything while he looks at me with those soft hazel eyes.
‘I think you’re nice. And very pretty,’ he says at last. ‘Especially your hair. You have really pretty hair.’
‘Oh.’ I can feel my face burning. What do I say to that? ‘Er, Pepper says it needs a style. My hair.’
‘Oh.’ Kit’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. I watch helplessly. I’ve obviously said completely the wrong thing.
‘Right, finish up now, please,’ Mr Bradley calls from the door.
I jump. Kit turns away and busies himself with his brush.
A few minutes later, we meet up with the others. Josh and Samuel have collected a sizeable pile of wood. Mr Bradley shows us how to bind it into five easy-to-carry bundles, then orders us to jog
back to the house, each with a stack under our arm.
Kit picks up his wood straightaway, but the rest of us stare at Mr Bradley in horror.
‘What did your last slave die of?’ Josh asks, eyebrows raised.
‘Quiet,’ Mr Bradley snaps.
‘I can’t carry a whole pile, sir,’ Samuel says matter-of-factly.
Mr Bradley glares at him impatiently. But, before he can speak, Kit snatches up Samuel’s bundle.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take yours.’ He sets off before anyone can stop him.
Mr Bradley rolls his eyes. ‘Well, come on the rest of you.’
Josh catches my eye. It’s obvious that if he thinks I’m prepared to back his stand against carrying the wood then he’ll keep on refusing. I shake my head. What’s the
point? I’ve got much bigger things to worry about than hauling a few sticks across a field. With a shrug, I pick up my bundle. Josh hesitates for a second, then does the same.
We set off together, leaving Mr Bradley and Samuel jogging after us. Josh runs fairly fast, though not as fast as Kit, who is now well ahead. I concentrate on keeping pace with him. It
isn’t easy, especially with the bundle of sticks under my arm, but in spite of this – and my anxieties about both Kit and the mystery surrounding Irina’s death – I enjoy the
sense of power in my muscles as well as the feel of the salty wind on my face. Josh talks as we jog, making me laugh with tales of how Samuel came out with a load of bizarre tree facts while they
were gathering wood.
‘Did you know that the biggest tree in the world is more than one hundred feet around?’ Josh asks. ‘Or that the manchineel tree causes burns and blisters?’
‘No,’ I chuckle. ‘Did you know that some kitten once died inside a sausage?’
‘
What?
’
By the time I’ve explained, we’re back at Lightsea House. Mr Bradley directs us to deposit our wood under the porch, then hurry into the kitchen. Mrs Moncrieff, Pepper and Anna are
ladling out steaming bowls of fresh chicken soup. I’m starving and gulp down two full bowls along with three of the crusty rolls from the basket on the table. My head is spinning with
everything that happened earlier, from my suspicions about Mr Lomax to my confusion over Kit. Luckily, I don’t have to say much. Pepper is doing most of the talking, complaining how she
thinks it is sexist that she and Anna were made to stay indoors earlier ‘doing girly stuff’.
‘Well, Evie was outside this morning,’ Kit reasons. ‘And I’m sure you and Anna will have a turn tomorrow or the next day. It’ll all even out.’
Pepper rolls her eyes. ‘Jeez, you sound just like Loonymax, Kit,’ she drawls.
Kit scowls. He hasn’t looked at me since we left the boathouse. I want to tell him that I think he’s right about the chores evening out, but when I try to catch his eye he avoids me,
sitting down at the opposite end of the table next to Samuel and immediately getting involved in what looks like an intense conversation about the distance of Lightsea Island from the Scottish
mainland.
After lunch, Mr Lomax makes us sit in a group and tries to encourage everyone in turn to open up about their situation at home. Pepper does most of the talking, though much of
what she says I’ve heard before: about how her dad is a pig for having an affair and her mum is an idiot for taking him back.
No one else is anywhere near as open: Kit and Josh both say, in different ways, that they don’t fit into their families, but Anna clams up, red-faced, when Mr Lomax asks her to talk about
her home life and Samuel just seems puzzled at the suggestion he might explain his emotions. As for me, I hint that I feel my parents have let me down about something by keeping a big secret from
me all my life, but I don’t say what that secret is. I’m aware, of course, that Mr Lomax knows about Irina, but much to my relief he doesn’t mention her name or push me to reveal
more than I want to.
There are more chores towards the end of the afternoon – Pepper and I are set to work in the first-floor bathroom, and Pepper, who has clearly never cleaned anything in her life, is
horrified that this involves having to scrub the toilet. After dinner, we all end up in the library where a roaring fire blazes in the grate.
Josh drags Pepper over to play snooker straightaway. Kit and Anna sit together on the sofa, their blond heads bowed over a book from the library. I grit my teeth. Kit has barely looked at me
since that moment on the boat. Why would he tell me I was nice and pretty one minute, then ignore me the next? It doesn’t make sense.
I curl up in a corner of the sofa opposite theirs, close to the fire. I stare into the flames, listening to their hiss and crackle. My thoughts drift to Irina again. I need to know the truth
about her death, but I’m as far away from finding it as I was this morning.
‘You OK, Evie?’ Anna looks up from the book she and Kit are examining.
I nod. Across the room, Josh has stopped playing snooker and is holding his guitar.
‘Play something, Josh,’ Pepper urges. ‘Go on, you promised you would.’
‘OK, OK.’ Josh carries the guitar to the third sofa which is positioned between the other two, directly opposite the fireplace. Kit stiffens as Josh readies himself to perform.
Pepper perches on the arm of the sofa next to him.
‘Go on,’ she says. ‘I’m literally dying from not hearing any music. Can you do “Rush of Blood” or any Nightsky songs?’
‘Yeah, yeah, hold on to your hairband.’ Josh grins. ‘I’ll take requests in a minute, but this is something I wrote a few weeks ago.’
‘Your own song?’ Anna asks, sitting forward.
‘Yeah, I’m into the whole singer-songwriter thing.’ Josh taps his feet for a moment, then starts strumming away.
I settle back into the sofa and tuck my legs under me. I’m very aware of Kit opposite as the first few chords echo round the room. And then Josh starts singing and I forget everything
else.
By the look of it, so do all the others. Well . . . Samuel has wandered across the room and is on the floor, reading a book. But the rest of us listen intently, mesmerised by the soft twist of
Josh’s husky voice and the mournful melody he is singing. The song is about a girl he likes, who’s in love with someone else. But it isn’t the lyrics that strike me so much as the
beautiful tone of Josh’s voice.
He finishes the song and there’s a moment of total silence before Pepper expresses exactly what I am thinking.
‘Wow,’ she says, her eyes wide with awe. ‘That was
incredible
.’
‘Thanks.’ Josh’s cheeks pink slightly.
‘Seriously,’ Pepper goes on. ‘You could be
massive.
A
star
.’
‘You
definitely
could,’ Anna agrees.
Josh looks at me. ‘It was brilliant,’ I say.
Josh smiles.
I glance at Kit. He’s staring down at his lap.
‘Wasn’t Josh fantastic?’ I ask.
Kit glances at Josh. ‘You’ve got a nice voice,’ he says stiffly.
‘
Nice?
’ Pepper shakes her head. ‘It was
awesome
.’
Kit shrugs. ‘I don’t know enough about music to judge.’
I stare at him. Why is he being so uptight? Doesn’t he realise how he sounds?
‘Play another one,’ Anna urges.
‘Yeah, go on,’ Pepper says drily. ‘Maybe if you play a bit more it might melt that stick of ice up Kit’s backside.’
Anna looks shocked, but Josh laughs. I gaze down at my lap, embarrassed. A couple of tense seconds pass. Then Kit stands up. Without speaking, he leaves the room. Anna follows him.
I half want to go too, but I also feel torn. Kit
was
a bit stiff and awkward. He always is – I suddenly realise – around Josh, and I don’t want to make Pepper feel bad
by walking out. Plus, I really want to hear Josh play some more. He has already launched into another slightly faster song. I shift in my seat. It would be bad manners to walk out while he’s
playing. Pepper and I listen in silence as Josh finishes the track. It has a catchy hook and the way he performs it is slick and professional, not just the music, but his habit of glancing up and
smiling as he strums and sings.
‘That was ace,’ Pepper exclaims as he finishes. ‘Do another.’
Josh slaps his hand against his guitar. ‘In a minute. First I’d like to know what’s bothering Evie.’ He looks at me. ‘You’ve been upset since this morning. I
could see you didn’t want to talk in front of everyone, but it’s just me and Pepper now.’
I feel my cheeks flushing. I had no idea Josh had noticed so much. For the past few minutes, I’ve forgotten the newspaper article and my suspicions that Irina might have died here, but now
all my earlier fears flood back.
Pepper sucks in her breath. ‘It’s true,’ she insists. ‘You’ve been weird on and off all day. What’s up?’
I take a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I can’t shake this feeling there’s someone out there,’ I explain. ‘There’s the ghost or whatever in the dark coat and red
hat that I’ve seen twice now
and
the newspaper article, and they both make me think . . . maybe it’s my real mum. I mean, this place is supposed to be haunted. I think,
perhaps, that it’s my mum who’s here, haunting it . . . haunting
me
.’
I look up. Pepper and Josh are both gazing intently at me. I brace myself, waiting for them to tell me I’ve been imagining things.
‘I know it’s stupid,’ I mutter.
‘I don’t think it’s stupid,’ Josh says.
‘Me neither.’ Pepper makes a face. ‘But you said before that your real mother died years and years ago; why would she suddenly start “appearing” to you
now?’
‘Because I didn’t know about her until a couple of months ago.’ The truth blurts out of me at last. ‘Andrew and Janet, that’s my dad and my . . . the woman I
thought was my mum . . . they didn’t tell me the truth.
Ever.
I only found out because Irina – my
real
mum – left me some money which I inherit when I’m
sixteen at the end of the month.’ I stop. There’s no point mentioning the amount. Pepper and Josh are already staring at me with shocked looks on their faces.