Authors: Sophie McKenzie
‘Wow, that’s heavy,’ Josh says at last.
‘Parents.’ Pepper shakes her head.
‘The trouble is there’s no way of investigating here,’ I carry on. ‘Lomax won’t tell me anything, though I’m certain he knows something – and I’ve
got no access to the internet or the newspaper which did the article fifteen years ago. I’d like to call my uncle about it, but his number is on my mobile which is locked away in
Lomax’s office where the only usable landline is.’
Josh lays his guitar down beside him. ‘We’ll find a way,’ he says.
‘Yeah,’ Pepper agrees.
‘How?’ I protest. ‘Lomax’s office door is always locked. And at night they lock the door to the corridor too.’
A slow smile spreads across Josh’s face. ‘I think you’ll find it’s possible.’
I glance across the room. Samuel is still busy with his book and isn’t paying us any attention. There’s no sign of Anna and Kit. My chest tightens. ‘Are you seriously saying
you could get me into Mr Lomax’s office?’
Josh nods.
‘I told you he could pick locks.’ Pepper slides off the arm of her sofa and pokes me in the ribs. ‘This is awesome,’ she says, lowering her voice. ‘We’re
going to break into Lomax’s office and you’re going to find out everything you want.’
Butterflies swarm in my stomach. Part of me is scared, but I’m excited too. This is a proper opportunity to get to the truth.
‘When shall we do it?’ I whisper.
Josh leans forward on the sofa. ‘Everyone goes to bed here
really
early, so we’ll just give them a couple of hours, then it’s game on.’
My eyes widen. ‘You mean
tonight
?’
Josh grins. ‘Hell, yeah,’ he says. ‘Tonight.’
I hold Irina’s ballet shoes, my eyes open to the gloom, waiting as the long hours pass. I’m not remotely sleepy. I can almost feel the adrenalin shooting through my
body. The room is dark, but just enough light comes in from the moon outside for me to see that Pepper is also awake – and restless, tossing and turning on her hard, narrow bed. Anna, on the
other hand, is clearly fast asleep, her curls like a halo around her head, her teddy bear propped against the wall beside her. The sound of her soft, even breathing carries across the room like the
push and pull of shallow waves. It’s oddly calming.
At last, Pepper swings her long legs out of bed. As she tiptoes towards me, I throw back the covers. We have kept our clothes on, so there’s no need to spend any time in the room.
Silently, we creep along the corridor and down the stairs. Josh is waiting at the bottom. We follow him to the locked door at the end of the corridor that leads to Mr Lomax’s office.
Josh bends down and begins fiddling with the lock. He’s dressed entirely in black as usual. I can’t work out what he’s doing, though it seems to involve inserting a long pin
into the lock at various angles, then twisting sharply. A few moments later and he eases the door open, a big grin on his face.
‘Ladies,’ he whispers with affected modesty, ‘we’re good to go.’
‘That was amazing,’ I hiss.
Pepper touches his arm. ‘Thanks, man.’
It’s too dark to see properly, but I’m sure Josh’s cheeks flush as he turns and leads the way to Mr Lomax’s office. The whole house feels asleep. My heart beats loudly
into the emptiness as the three of us hurry along the corridor. Josh drops to his knees and begins working away at the office door.
This lock takes him longer than the previous one, causing Pepper and I to exchange several anxious glances. At last, he’s through. We hurry inside and I shut the door behind us. Pepper
flicks on the wall light. Electricity on the island runs from a generator which is powered down at night, but we know from Mrs Moncrieff that a certain amount is always present.
A dim glow fills the room. It’s all exactly as it was when I sat here with Mr Lomax. I take in the two desks and the filing cabinets and the computer. The bookshelves on the wall groan
with files. I gulp. It’s going to take ages to look through everything and I have no idea where to start.
Josh points to the landline. ‘Want to call anyone?’
‘Not yet,’ I whisper. There’s no point ringing Andrew or Janet and Uncle Gavin’s number is buried in my mobile which is hidden somewhere in the room.
‘Why don’t you see if our phones are in any of the cupboards?’ I suggest to Pepper.
‘OK,’ she says.
‘What shall I do?’ Josh asks.
I indicate the filing cabinet to the right of the desk. ‘Would you go through that? See if you can find anything from fifteen years ago, anything to do with the suspected murder or the
woman involved?’
‘Sure thing.’ Josh speeds over to the cabinet and pulls open the top drawer.
I turn my attention to the files on the bookshelves. The front part of each shelf is crammed with photos. I recognise Mr Lomax in a couple of pictures. In one, he’s wearing a suit and
looks like he’s in his late teens or early twenties. The caption says: ‘David’s graduation’. I put the photo down and begin examining the files on the shelves.
‘Hey, there’s masses of stuff here on
us
,’ Josh calls softly from the filing cabinet. ‘Notes and reports on our histories and “personal
issues”.’ He whistles under his breath. ‘Says here I’m considered to have a borderline personality disorder.’
‘What do they know?’ Pepper whispers from the cupboards behind one of the desks. Her voice sounds uncharacteristically bitter. ‘None of the therapists I’ve ever talked to
could tell the difference between having a personality disorder and being a bit different.’
‘How are you getting on?’ I ask.
‘No sign of our mobiles.’ Pepper sighs.
I gaze at the files on the lower bookshelves. They’re mostly full of personal documents to do with Mr Lomax’s family. Within a couple of minutes, I unearth his father’s death
certificate from ten years ago. I turn to the next shelf. My breath catches in my throat. There, lying on top of a pile of papers, is a photo of Irina. She’s wearing a long black coat and a
red wool hat and is quite clearly standing on the beach outside Lightsea House.
I stare at the picture, too shocked to move or speak. So Irina
was
here after all. And I’m pretty sure that the black coat and red hat are the same as those displayed in the
newspaper article
and
identical to the ones my ghost was wearing. Her blonde hair flies out from under her hat as she smiles at whoever is behind the camera.
‘Oh my God,’ I gasp.
Josh turns from the filing cabinet, pushing shut the drawer he was rifling through. ‘What?’ he asks.
‘Did you find something?’ Pepper looks up.
I nod. This is
it
: proof of a connection between Lightsea and Irina
and
between Irina and my ghost. I hurry over to the bank of cupboards to help with the search for our
mobiles. I have to find Uncle Gavin’s number and speak to him.
Immediately
.
‘It’s my real mum,’ I explain as I bend down. ‘I just—’
The creak of floorboards sounds outside, followed by the heavy tread of footsteps. I just have time to stuff the photo of Irina down the front of my sweatshirt when the office door opens and Mr
Bradley walks in.
We are in big trouble. Mr Bradley demands to know what the hell we’re doing, his eyes popping as he yells that breaking into a private office is a serious offence. Josh
tries to bluff it out, saying we’d been hungry and just came down to the kitchen for a snack, but Mr Bradley sees straight through that. He marches us into the library, then goes to fetch
Miss Bunnock and Mr Lomax.
Mr Lomax interrogates us. How did we get through the locks on the doors? What were we doing in his office? It’s obvious Pepper and Josh are keeping quiet for my sake, which isn’t
fair on them, so after a few minutes I summon all my courage and speak up.
‘This isn’t Josh or Pepper’s fault; they were just trying to help me,’ I insist. ‘I was looking for information about the woman who died here fifteen years
ago.’
‘Oh, Evie.’ Mr Lomax shakes his head sorrowfully. ‘And did you find anything?’
The edge of the photo I took from his office, still hidden under my sweatshirt, presses against my skin. It is proof that Irina was connected to Lightsea and that Mr Lomax is covering up the
connection. But if I challenge him about it now I’ll be letting on that I know what he’s up to.
‘No,’ I lie. ‘I didn’t find anything.’
Miss Bunnock tuts. ‘This is unacceptable behaviour. Personally, I feel we need a stronger punishment than an hour of Quiet Time, don’t you agree, Mr Lomax?’
Mr Lomax nods, but he seems distracted, saying he’ll deal with us in the morning. I’m certain he is more concerned with what I was looking for than interested in how we should be
punished. And so we are taken up to bed. Miss Bunnock stands guard while Pepper and I get under the covers. I slip the photo of Irina beneath my pillow, next to the ballet shoes. I don’t
think I’ll sleep a wink, but I’m out straightaway, not waking until Anna shakes my arm exactly as she did the previous day.
There’s no time to talk before meditation. Mr Lomax says nothing about our night-time escapade, though I notice his eyes rest on me more than the others as he explains
that the point of the session is to learn to be less involved with our thoughts and feelings.
‘If you find your mind wandering, just bring it gently back to the breath,’ he instructs.
Once again, I struggle with the whole thing. It seems pointless and stupid to be trying to focus on something as basic as breathing with so much at stake. How is it possible that Irina was once
here, when everyone says she never came to the island? If she
was
here then it’s surely more likely than ever that she was killed here too. But why? And by whom? And what exactly
does Mr Lomax know about the whole thing?
My mind skitters about for the entire fifteen minutes or so that Mr Lomax leads us through the session. Afterwards, he asks Josh, Pepper and me to remain behind.
‘I’m afraid that last night’s unauthorised activities must have consequences,’ he says slowly. ‘As you know, our ethos here on Lightsea is one of rehabilitation
rather than retribution.’
‘Say what?’ Josh wrinkles his nose.
Pepper rolls her eyes.
‘I simply mean that we don’t go in for traditional punishments here, but I agree with Miss Bunnock that a single session of Quiet Time isn’t enough for such a severe
transgression.’
I glance at the others. They look as bewildered as I feel.
‘So what does that mean?’ I stammer.
‘I’m afraid it’s got to be an entire day of Quiet Time and solitary chores for each of you, to give you some private space to think about what you did, why you did it and what
was wrong with the choices you made.’
‘A whole day without talking?’ I ask.
Mr Lomax nods.
‘This is so unfair,’ Pepper mutters.
‘Yeah, we wouldn’t have needed to break into your office if this place wasn’t such a pigging prison,’ Josh adds.
Mr Lomax sighs. ‘I’d particularly like you to use your Quiet Time as an opportunity to reflect on the need to take responsibility for your actions.’
I grit my teeth. I
am
taking responsibility; I’m trying to find out what on earth happened to my real mother all those years ago.
‘Quiet Time at Guantanamo.’ Josh shakes his head. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘I hate this place,’ Pepper adds.
‘I will also be taking each of you in a one-to-one session to discuss why you felt the need to disobey our rules.’ Mr Lomax looks at me. ‘Evie, we’ll start with
you.’
A chill runs down my spine. Does he somehow know what I’ve found out? Has he realised the photo of Irina is gone?
‘Pepper and Josh can return to their chores for now,’ Mr Lomax finishes.
‘Oh,
whatever
.’ Pepper turns on her heel and flounces out of the meditation room.
‘Sucks, man.’ Josh shoots me a sympathetic look, then follows her.
My hands tremble as I put on my boots and jacket and follow Mr Lomax outside. He leads me around the house, down to the shore. We walk in silence past Mrs Moncrieff’s walled vegetable
garden and down to the stony beach. Waves lap at the pebbles. I stare at the dark water, my old fears of the sea mingling with my anxieties about what happened to Irina.
‘This is the only swimmable beach on the island,’ Mr Lomax explains. ‘All the others, like Boater’s Cove by the boathouse, for instance, have treacherous rocks you can
cut your legs on just under the surface. That was why the house was built at this end of Lightsea, so that the swimming therapy which was prescribed for the original inmates could take place easily
and with supervision. But unfortunately the current proved too strong and, after two inmates drowned, the entire activity was disallowed.’ He pauses. ‘So . . . swimming was forbidden
for a good reason. Do you see that?’
I stare at him. What is he saying? That not letting us get on the phone to our families is for a good reason too? I grit my teeth. The man is
definitely
hiding something.
‘I’d like to talk about your birth mother, Evie,’ he goes on.
I tense up. The photo of Irina, tucked inside my sweatshirt, flashes in front of my mind’s eye again.
‘Do you have any actual memories of her?’ Mr Lomax asks.
I don’t want to talk about Irina to him, but perhaps this is a way of getting him to admit she was here . . . maybe even to explain why.
‘No,’ I say slowly. ‘But I’ve seen lots of pictures and films. My Uncle Gavin showed me.’ I hesitate. Should I tell Lomax that I’ve seen the photo? I’m
itching to challenge him outright, but something holds me back.
‘Films of her dancing?’ Mr Lomax asks. ‘I understand she was a prima ballerina.’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘There’s a DVD of her dancing
Giselle
, but there’s lots of short clips on YouTube as well. Uncle Gavin told me what an amazing dancer she was
and how hard she studied ballet as a child.’
‘Right.’ Mr Lomax gazes thoughtfully out to sea. ‘What do you think your mother was like?’
I shrug. ‘Graceful, talented, passionate – about dance anyway . . .’