All My Secrets
‘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?
Fourteen
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 ni
ce 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.
‘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.’
Fifteen
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.