‘Do you think we need to search Easter Rock?’ Miss Bunnock interjects, her eyes wide.
‘Goodness.’ Mr Lomax looks startled. ‘I don’t think . . . no . . . yes, we should check. I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you see if he’s in the grounds to the back of the house?’ He turns to the rest of us. ‘Until later, everyone, please don’t leave the building. Mrs Moncrieff is currently searching the upper floors again so I suggest you wait in the library.’
‘Would you like us to help look for Samuel?’ Kit asks earnestly.
Pepper rolls her eyes. ‘Ooh, Boy Scout alert,’ she whispers.
‘No, er, thank you.’ Mr Lomax shakes his head distractedly and hurries to the door, Miss Bunnock right behind him.
‘What a fuss,’ Josh drawls. ‘Samuel’s probably just gone outside for a cig.’
‘I don’t think that’s very likely.’ Anna sounds scandalised.
‘No.’ I suppress a smile at the idea of Samuel smoking, as we troop into the library. ‘Anyway, they took the fuel out of his lighter.’
‘Good point,’ Josh acknowledges.
‘Plus, we were told not to go outside,’ Kit says. ‘So it would mean breaking the rules.’
‘Jeez.’ Pepper makes a face. ‘Lighten up, will you?’
‘Yeah, man, just cos you always obey the rules.’ Josh winks at me, then flings himself down on one of the sofas.
I blush. Kit scowls. ‘I just meant Samuel didn’t seem likely to go against what he was told to do.’ He turns away and paces up and down by the bookshelves. His walk is powerful, yet graceful, ridiculously mesmerizing. I can’t take my eyes off him.
‘What I don’t get is why they didn’t want us to help,’ Anna says with a sigh.
Pepper sits down beside Josh and sprawls across the end of the sofa, her arms flung theatrically over the cushions. ‘I’ve got no idea either. This place is weird.’
‘They just don’t want us outside and unsupervised on our first night,’ Kit says, still pacing up and down.
I screw up my courage, ready to sidle over and maybe try talking to him again, but before I can move Anna drifts over to the bookshelves.
‘Hey, Kit,’ she says. ‘Do you think we should get back to the clearing up?’
Kit nods. Without looking round, the two of them leave the room.
Great.
I sit down opposite Josh and Pepper, feeling disgruntled.
An hour passes and the light outside starts to fade. We attempt to explore the ground floor, but only the kitchen and a large, empty, wood-floored room with a pile of blue mats in the corner are unlocked. The rest of the floor is hidden behind a thick wooden door. Josh goes to get his guitar, but it’s been taken up to his room and the doors to the bedrooms are firmly fastened. He tries most of the other doors on the way back down and reports that they’re all locked too.
‘If I had my tools with me, I could open them,’ he says, ‘but they’re in the bedroom.’
‘What tools?’ I ask.
‘Couple of long pins, nothing fancy. They fit down the hem of my rucksack or the side of my boots. Anyway, I’m not leaving the room without them again.’
‘It’s like an effing prison,’ Pepper mutters.
Josh raises his eyebrows. His dark eyes twinkle as he glances from me to Pepper. ‘Fancy a prison break?’
Pepper sits up. ‘Totally.’
‘You mean go outside?’ I ask. My heart thuds.
‘Yeah, we might even track down Samuel.’ Pepper sniffs. She and Josh are already at the door.
My stomach contracts. It’s true that we might be able to help find Samuel, but Mr Lomax specifically asked us not to go outside right now and, not only would I prefer to avoid getting into trouble on my very first evening, I also don’t want to get on the wrong side of Mr Lomax before I’ve even had a chance to ask him about Irina.
‘Come on, Evie,’ Josh grins. ‘What’s the worst they can do to us? Even if we get in trouble, which I doubt we will, Quiet Time sounds like a punishment for babies.’
This is true. And Josh’s cheeky smile is irresistible. I don’t fancy him, like I do Kit, but I’m hoping we can be friends. And I don’t want either him or Pepper to think I’m afraid.
‘Let’s go,’ I say.
The three of us pad across the hall to the front door. Someone has put a row of boots in front of the bench by the wall. I spot my own pair third from the left.
‘See, it’s fate,’ Josh whispers. ‘Our footwear is waiting for us.’
I suppress a giggle. Mrs Moncrieff’s soft Scottish tones drift towards us from the kitchen, where she’s talking to Kit and Anna. Pepper puts her finger to her lips, then lifts the heavy bar on the front door. It gives a low creak as it opens. I freeze, but the chatter in the kitchen carries on as before. Nobody has heard us. Pepper opens the door a little wider and peers outside.
‘I can’t see anyone,’ she whispers.
‘Let’s head for the woods.’ Josh tiptoes out into the crisp, evening air, Pepper and me right behind. ‘I don’t know where that Easter Rock is that Lomax and Bunnock were going to, but we’re less likely to be spotted if we stay among the trees.’
‘Good thinking,’ Pepper says approvingly.
‘Wow,’ I say as we cross the patch of grass outside the house. ‘It looks completely different from when I arrived.’ Earlier, the sky was grey with dark, glowering clouds that the light struggled to break through. Now the sun is a low orange disc framed by a clear blue sky. Beyond the rocks to the left of the house the sea sparkles like a carpet of diamonds.
Josh and Pepper lead the way into the trees. I follow more slowly, looking around as I walk. There’s no sign of any of the adults. Despite the bright sunlight, the way through the woods is dark and shadowy. The air smells damp and salty. Every now and then, I catch sight of the glistening water through the trees. Apart from the wind, there is no sound at all.
Josh and Pepper are moving faster than me. Not wanting to be left behind, I speed up. As I jog along, I catch a flash of red out of the corner of my eye. I spin around remembering the shadowy movement I saw earlier, just after I arrived on the island. A slight figure in a long black coat and a red hat is standing between the trees about twenty metres away. I stop running. Could that be Samuel? The head is bent down, the hat pulled low, so I can’t see a face or even tell if the figure is male or female. I take a step forward. In a flash, the figure turns. There’s the swish of the coat disappearing into the trees. And it’s gone.
My skin erupts in goosebumps. I peer through the branches, straining my eyes to see it again. But the figure has vanished. My heart thuds. Was that one of the adult members of staff? It was surely too short for Mr Lomax and Miss Bunnock, and definitely too slender for Mrs Moncrieff. Anyway, Lomax and Bunnock were wearing short jackets when they went outside. What about Samuel? I hesitate. Josh and Pepper are now out of sight. If Samuel is here, I should try and find him.
I head through the trees towards the spot where the figure was standing. Through the branches beyond, I emerge onto a wide expanse of smooth grey rock. The sea is just a few metres away, waves crashing over the jagged ridges that poke up from the water. Miss Bunnock’s earlier warning about how lethal the Lightsea rocks are floats into my head. The sharp ones out at sea do look dangerous, but there’s nothing scary about the flat rock that leads to the water’s edge. I look along its breadth. There’s no way anyone could have run out here within the last minute and not be visible. The only place they could possibly be hiding is on the other side of a high rock that rises up at the far end of the flat expanse, just before the sea. A smallish person could just about conceal themselves behind that.
‘Samuel?’ I call.
No reply, just the sound of the wind whipping through the trees and the waves smashing against the rocks.
‘Samuel?’ I call again, louder.
Still silence. This is ridiculous. Whoever ran through the trees must be here. And if it isn’t Samuel then I want to know wh
o on earth is out here. I test the flat rock in front of me. Not too slippery. Anyway, my boots have a great grip. I take a step.
‘Samuel?’ I call once more.
No reply. The sun dips out of sight, plunging the area into shadow. The place suddenly feels spooky. I hurry across the rock. My boots keep me steady, though I can feel the ground beneath my feet getting smoother and slippier. I reach the tall stone. Peer around it. It falls away sharply to the sea below. Waves pound against the crags that stick up from the sea. There’s no one here. No way anyone could hide here after all.
And then footsteps sound behind me. I spin around. Too fast. I lose my footing. Stumble back, almost to the edge. The sea smashes against the rocks, loud in my ears.
As I fall, a hand grabs my arm.
Ten
I look up into Kit’s hazel eyes. He hauls me to my feet with an angry hiss.
‘What are you doing out here?’ he demands, letting go of my arm. ‘You could have fallen into the water and drowned . . . or been crushed to death on the rocks.’
I glance down to where the grey stone falls away, sheer to the sea, just centimetres away. It was stupid to run over here – and of all the people I don’t want to see me being stupid, Kit is currently at the top of the list. The thought that he did see – and is now telling me off because of it – makes me hot with embarrassment.
‘I only fell because you startled me. I was trying to find Samuel.’ I back away from the edge, my legs trembling. ‘I . . . I thought I saw someone creeping through the trees . . . that maybe they came this way. Did you see anyone? Was it you?’
But even as I ask I know it wasn’t. Kit is wearing the same clothes as earlier – a white T-shirt over grey sweatpants. Definitely not a black coat or a red hat. Unless he put them on and took them off again.
‘No, it wasn’t me,’ Kit says with an angry snort. ‘I only saw you creeping through the trees. Which by the way they told us not to do. And they specifically said not to go on the rocks.’
Irritation rises inside me as the shock of my fall and Kit’s sudden appearance wears off. He might be the hottest boy I’ve ever met, but that doesn’t give him the right to order me about.
‘I don’t see how what I do is any of your business,’ I snap. ‘Just because you always do what you’re told.’
‘I don’t.’ Kit’s face flushes a deep red. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I did, would I? Look, if you’re not coming back to the house then I’ll see you later.’ He turns away.
‘Wait.’
Kit turns back. The setting sun behind me is shining on his face. He holds his hand up to shield his eyes. ‘What?’
I hesitate, my throat dry. ‘What are you doing out here?’
There’s a long pause. The wind dies down though the waves still crash against the rocks. When Kit speaks, I can only just hear him above the swell and slap of the water.
‘I came to find you,’ he says. ‘I’d just finished in the kitchen and I saw you and the others through the window when you were going into the trees so I came to look for you.’
‘Oh.’ We stare at each other, then Kit moves slightly closer. My heart hammers. My insides cartwheel madly. Kit’s strong, square-jawed face is all I can see.
And then he turns away and looks out to sea.
I gulp, feeling confused. What is he thinking? Is he still mad at me?
‘I just wanted to help find Samuel and then, when I was in the wood, I thought I saw him coming this way,’ I gabble, eager to explain why I ventured onto the rock. ‘The same thing happened earlier on the way here. That is, I think I saw something . . . someone . . . in the trees. Miss Bunnock said it was a trick of the light, but it kind of freaked me out.’
‘It was probably the light,’ Kit says. ‘Look.’
I follow his gaze out to sea where the water is calm and the sun, almost at the horizon, is a pure disc of gold. Its light shimmers across the water like a gleaming sheet of yellow silk.
‘Oh wow, it’s beautiful,’ I say, transfixed.
As the sun slowly sets, the tips of the rocks rising up from the sea gleam like needles of bright light. Kit and I stand, side by side, as the sky shifts around us: pearly pinks and soft oranges weaving in and out of the burnished gold.
‘It’s amazing,’ I breathe.
‘You can see why the place is called Lightsea.’ Kit turns to me, his eyes glowing. ‘Evie . . .?’
I wait for him to carry on, but his jaw clenches and he frowns.
‘What is it?’
‘We should go back to the house before it gets dark.’
I’m certain that isn’t what he’d been going to say, but I don’t know how to explain that so I just nod, then follow Kit off the rock.
We walk through the trees and back to the house in silence. I have no idea where Josh and Pepper have got to or if Samuel has been found. To be honest, I don’t give either thought much consideration. The way Kit looked at me as he moved closer keeps whirling around my head. It was as if he’d been about to kiss me then thought better of it.
Nobody is outside the house as we let ourselves in and hurry to the library. Anna is curled up on one of the sofas. She’s alone, a large leather-bound book in her lap. Her eyes light up as she sees Kit.
‘Hi there,’ she says.
‘Hi, Anna,’ Kit says. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘I don’t know.’ Anna blushes, a shy smile on her lips. ‘I think Mrs Moncrieff must still be upstairs. I haven’t seen anyone else since I came out of the kitchen. Where’ve you been?’
‘Just looking around,’ Kit says vaguely. He wanders over to the bookshelves. Anna watches him for a moment, then turns to me. She holds up her book. The title is embossed across the front: The Haunting of Lightsea.
‘I’ve been reading about the house being haunted,’ she says. ‘Apparently, the legends about ghosts began when it was an insane asylum, but this book reckons most of the people here weren’t even mentally ill, just different, the sort of people who, with a bit of care and the right meds, would be totally fine today.’
Kit turns around from the bookshelf he’s examining. ‘That happened a lot in the old days.’
‘Does it say anything about the hauntings?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, it does actually.’ Anna tucks her hair behind her ears. She holds out the book to me. ‘It was written just after the original Mr Lomax took over the island and set up the Lightsea Institute instead of the old insane asylum that had been here since Victorian times. The old stories said that it’s the island that draws the ghosts, like some portal between this life and the next – but the scientists who examined the claims said it was all just a trick of the light. There’s a photocopy of a slightly more recent newspaper cutting in the back though, about something from fourteen or fifteen years ago, before the Mr Lomax who’s here now took over. Take a look.’
I sit down by the empty fireplace and open the book. It’s heavy and smells of damp. The photocopy of the newspaper article is tucked inside the front cover. I glance at it idly, then gasp.
The article features a blurry photograph of a woman in a red wool hat and a long dark coat. The collar of the coat is turned up and the hat pulled down so low that it’s impossible to see her face. My heart thuds in my chest. The colour of the hat looks similar to the flash of red I saw earlier. And the swish of the black coat I caught sight of could easily have been made by the coat in the picture. Was this who I saw running through the trees? I snatch up the article and read:
An unknown woman is reported to have been pushed – almost certainly to her death – in the early hours of this morning on Lightsea Island, our correspondent writes.
The woman’s outer clothes (pictured here on a model) were found on Easter Rock, a lethal promontory that occupies the eastern end of the island. Alan Lomax, head of the Lightsea Institute mental-health facility, claims to have no knowledge of the woman or her presence on the island. The alleged incident was reported by a visitor to the Institute. He remains the only
witness, but was only able to give the police a general description of the alleged attacker and the woman who fell. The attacker is believed to be tall with dark hair while the woman was described as fair-haired and of slightly lower than average height and build.
My skin erupts in goosebumps. The woman sounds like Irina. I shake myself. Lots of women could be described in the same way.
This is not the first time tragedy has struck on this particular part of Lightsea Island. Easter Rock was a commonly used suicide spot for inmates of the Asylum that used to stand on the site of the present Institute.
Police are appealing for information from anyone who thinks they may have seen the woman or her attacker in the local area . . .
Heart still racing, I scan to the date of the incident. All the air seems to be sucked out of the room as my brain tries to process what it is seeing.
It is the date of Irina’s death.
Eleven
‘Evie? Evie?’
I’m dimly aware that someone is saying my name, but all I can think is that the woman in the article might be Irina – except of course she can’t be. Uncle Gavin would definitely have said if Irina had died on the island. He told me – as did Andrew – that she was run over by a lorry one evening in Nottingham. All the information I found online said so too.
‘Evie?’ Kit shakes my arm. ‘Are you OK? You look really pale.’
I force myself to look at him as he sits down beside me, his eyes full of concern.
‘I’m fine,’ I lie. ‘It’s just . . . this article is a bit weird.’
‘Yeah, I thought so too,’ Anna says. She twists her hair around her finger. ‘I mean, how come nobody apart from that one guy saw the woman?’
‘What woman?’ Kit asks.
I pass him the article. He reads it, then gives it back. ‘I don’t get it,’ he says. ‘Why is some random woman going missing fifteen years ago upsetting you?’
All My Secrets Page 6
