The Girl on the Beach: A Heartbreaking Page Turner With a Stunning Twist

by Tracy Buchanan

  ‘You do all your work from here?’ I asked.

  He nodded. ‘Well, used to anyway. Don’t get as much time for it now. I used to love escaping here when I was a kid. As soon as

  I walk in …’ He took a deep contented breath. ‘Exhale. All my troubles disappear.’

  ‘What kind of troubles?’

  He looked at me sideways then took my hand. ‘Come, look, you’ll love the view,’ he said without answering me.

  I followed him up the wooden stairs that led to the top deck. There was a huge arched window that looked out over the snowy forest and frozen loch.

  ‘Stunning,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, I’d sit for hours here, just watching this view.’

  I imagined him as a teenager, all those pent-up teenage hormones being tamed by the peace and quiet of a barn he’d been proud to create.

  I stepped towards the window and put my hand on the glass. ‘Is that another house?’ I asked as I looked at the other side of the loch … the opposite side to the path that led to the lodge. It was an old farmhouse, grey and partly hidden by trees.

  ‘Yep,’ he said as he stared at it with a knitted brow.

  ‘I hadn’t even noticed it until now.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s quite hidden away.’

  ‘Who owns it?’

  ‘An older couple.’

  ‘Do you see them much?’

  ‘Nope.’ His eyes went glassy for a moment as he stared at the house. Then he fixed a smile on his face and turned to me, circling his arm around my waist and pulling me close. I put my hand to his chest, felt the warmth of him beneath his thick jumper.

  ‘Look at us, all alone,’ I murmured.

  ‘No more annoying family.’

  I laughed softly. ‘They’re not that bad.’

  His eyes explored my face, dropping to my lips. ‘You’re not that bad either.’

  ‘Not bad. Wow, you sure know how to compliment a girl.’

  He curled my blonde hair around his finger. ‘I have a tendency to downplay things. In my book, not bad means fucking glorious.’

  ‘Glorious.’ I smiled. ‘Now that’s some description. I wonder what you must think of those women you describe as being more than not bad.'

  He tilted his head. ‘Women?’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ I said casually. ‘We both know you’re not a virgin.’

  He shot me a wounded look. ‘How do you know that?’ He smiled. ‘Okay, you caught me out. I saw Rhonda talking to you. Let me guess, she told you I was a womaniser?’

  ‘Not exactly …’ I moved out of his arms and walked around the room, trailing my fingers over the dusty covers of the books up there, most of them about woodworking. ‘Just that you like to have fun.’ I paused, turning to him and fixing him with my gaze. ‘I don’t mind, you know. I like to have fun too.’

  He crossed his huge arms and looked me up and down. ‘I bet you do. So this is fun, is it? A little holiday romance?’

  ‘That’s what it has to be, right?’ I asked, looking up at him with questioning eyes. My heart was beating fast, my stomach heavy with butterflies. I didn’t want it to be, and I realised that now. The idea of walking out of here, leaving him, never seeing him again, only thinking of him as ‘that hot Scottish guy I once met’ … it didn’t feel right. And as I looked into his eyes, I knew he felt the same way.

  ‘It can be whatever we want it to be,’ Dylan said huskily. He put his hand out to me. ‘Come to me.’

  I gave him a look. ‘You come to me.'

  He let out a little growl. ‘God, you’re infuriating.’ He strode across the floor and pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard on the mouth. I reached my hand up, pressing my fingers into his thick dark hair as we stumbled back towards the sofa. He sat down, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, shrugging off my coat as he kissed my neck. I pulled his jumper over his head and took in his muscled chest and the curve of his biceps. I looked up at him, his flushed high cheekbones and full lips, his hair so dark it looked like coal, and those dark eyes, full of desire.

  Then his face softened and he gently unbuttoned the cardigan I’d borrowed from Rhonda and helped me shrug out of it, his eyes never leaving mine. He pushed my T-shirt up, his fingertips hot on my bare skin as they reached the edge of my bra. I gave a quick gasp and he paused.

  ‘Want me to stop?’ he asked mischievously.

  I squirmed beneath him. ‘No, don’t you dare.’

  He smiled and continued pushing my T-shirt up until my bra was exposed. His dark eyes took me all in, then he looked back at my face, his thumb casually beginning to circle my nipple over the thin material of my bra. I put my knuckles to my mouth, suppressing another moan as I turned my head.

  ‘You’re like a kettle about to go off,’ he whispered.

  ‘Several months in the Orkney Islands without anyone touching you does that to a girl.’

  ‘Touch? You mean like this?’ he said, dipping his thumb beneath the cotton of my bra and playing with my nipple as his other hand undid the buckle of my belt.

  ‘Yes, just like that,’ I whispered.

  He leant down, replacing his thumb with his tongue on my nipple, lowering his head until he got to my belly button. Then he looked up, slowly unzipping my jeans as he watched me.

  ‘You’re a tease,’ I said, stroking his hair.

  ‘Nope, just a man wanting to take his time over an amazing dish.’

  ‘A not bad dish,’ I countered.

  He smiled then turned his attention back to my jeans, yanking them down as his chin brushed my knickers. He kissed the lace top of my knickers, slowly and surely. I squirmed in frustration and he laughed against my skin. Then he dipped his head lower, pushing my legs open slightly. I felt his breath through the cotton of my knickers on the most sensitive part of me and dug my fingers into his hair, tilting my hips up towards him.

  But then he moved his head away, looking up at me again.

  ‘Screw this,’ I said.

  I quickly wriggled out of my knickers and unhooked my bra as he bit his lip, then I pulled him up to me, unzipped his jeans and looked him in the eye. ‘Now.’

  An hour later, we lay together on his sofa, arms wrapped around each other beneath a thick fur blanket. Dylan was looking at the leather notepad Reg had got me, which had fallen from my pocket, and was reading my notes about all the animals I’d filmed since arriving in Scotland.

  ‘Interesting,’ he said, leaning over and grabbing a pencil. ‘I think it’s just missing one thing.’

  He started sketching a bird opposite the first page, a ptarmigan.

  ‘You draw too,’ I murmured after he finished it. ‘Multitalented.’

  ‘I’d say you’re the multitalented one,’ he said, tracing his fingers down my arm. He placed the notepad down and pulled me on top of him. ‘I think you and I are alike,’ he said. ‘Not just because we’re both multitalented either.’

  I thought of what his mother had told me about him needing to be forgiven. We’d both done things that needed forgiving. I got the feeling there was more to it than that for him too, more secrets burrowed within … just like me. Secrets we needed to forget.

  He moved down my body. I felt his lips on my neck, my collarbone. He gazed up at me and I saw the message in his dark eyes: help me forget. I’d done the same for so many years, strange men in dark cold tents, seeking selective amnesia through the small sparks of pleasure their touch brought.

  As his lips moved down towards my hips, I lay back and looked up at the vast wooden ceiling, smelt the heady scent of sawdust, of whisky and eucalyptus. When his lips and tongue found my most sensitive part, I let out a gasp, letting him widen my legs. As sensations built and built at the point where his tongue probed my skin, I closed my eyes, focusing on it until the sensations burst, muscles spasming.

  He moved up me, kissing my belly button, each rib.

  Then a scream rang out from outside.

  We both froze.

  Then another.

&nb
sp; We quickly got dressed, grabbed our coats and pulled on our boots before running outside, thrashing past branches, stamping through snow until we got down the mountain and to the lake, the lodge to our left. At its banks were all the family apart from Mairi and Cole, who were clambering over the lake’s icy shards, heading towards a flash of blue amongst the white.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Dylan shouted as he charged towards the loch.

  ‘It’s Heather,’ Alison mumbled, her mittened hands to her mouth, as she looked out at the loch. ‘She’s out there.’

  ‘In the loch?’ I asked, trying to find her amongst the shards. Had she fallen among the shards? Even worse, had she fallen through the lake, like I had? I followed their gaze back towards the blue coat. Yes, of course, she’d been wearing that coat earlier. Why on earth would she go out onto the lake then take it off?

  ‘Shit,’ Dylan whispered. He darted towards the lake and I wrapped my arms around myself as I watched him catch up with his mother and brother. When they got to Heather’s blue coat, Mairi wailed, falling to her knees and pulling what I could now see was Heather into her arms. Heather’s face was as white as the snow around her, her lips turning blue, her short black hair wet.

  Dylan leant down and lifted his sister in his arms before standing back up and stamping through the lake with her as Mairi and Cole followed. When they reached the banks, they hurried into the house past me, Heather’s head lolling against Dylan’s arms.

  ‘An ambulance, call an ambulance!’ Mairi screamed over her shoulder.

  We all ran inside, and Oscar grabbed a phone in the hallway with shaking hands as Dylan laid his sister by the fire, Cole grabbing some towels and placing them over her as her mother dried her. Heather let out a quiet moan then turned her head, her eyes alighting on mine, the pain and vulnerability in them so raw.

  It took me back to another time when somebody had looked at me like that.

  I backed away. I shouldn’t be here. I didn’t belong.

  Chapter Eleven

  Amber

  The Lake District

  22 December 2009

  Amber watches Lumin peering out of the car window at the snow-topped peaks in the distance. They’ve been driving for over five hours up the M6 motorway, stopping once on the way. It’s been fun, listening to the radio and trying to figure out what music Lumin likes while eating boiled sweets to learn more about her tastebuds. Lumin is in high spirits. She has been since Amber visited her in the ward and whispered her plans to her.

  ‘I have a crazy idea,’ Amber had said in a hushed voice, adrenalin still buzzing through her from the decision she’d made the night before.

  Lumin leant forward slightly. ‘What is it?’ she’d whispered back.

  ‘I think we should go to Scotland. I think being there might spark some of your memories.’ Amber looked around her to check nobody was listening. ‘But as everyone thinks you might be under eighteen – which, frankly, we both know isn’t true – it means you can’t really come with me.’

  Her shoulders had slumped.

  ‘However, I’ve never really cared about rules,’ Amber added. ‘And if you’re in this godforsaken place another day, I think you’ll wilt like those flowers.’ Lumin followed Amber’s gaze towards a jar of curled and brown roses. ‘I can’t let that happen.’

  Lumin’s face lit up and it struck Amber just how beautiful she was. But then the smile had slipped from her face. ‘But I don’t want you getting into trouble, you’ve already done so much for me.’ Amber had leant forward. ‘Look in my eyes. See that? That’s the famous Caulfield Look. You know what that means?’

  ‘That you’re officially as nuts as I am?’ Lumin replied with a crooked smile.

  ‘Well, of course that. But it also means once I’ve made my mind up, there’s no changing it. So get whatever it is you need to have ready and we’re going to make a break for it when nobody’s looking.’

  Amber had already written a note to leave behind, hoping she’d composed it in a way that would make the doctors and the police understand. She knew the risk she was taking. She knew she could get in big trouble. Plus she was leaving her shop in the hands of her mother and aunt. But she had nothing to lose.

  And now, as they both sit in Amber’s car with the music blaring, Amber can’t help but smile. For once, she feels like she’s making a difference … even if the police might be looking for them right that minute. She wonders how Jasper will feel when he finds out. Maybe he’ll smile and think it’s a good thing.

  Or maybe he’ll think I’m being irrational, she wonders. It was one of the words he’d used when she’d suggested they split up. ‘The grief has made you irrational, Amber. We love each other!’

  Amber grips the steering wheel hard.

  ‘Where are we?’ Lumin asks.

  ‘Cumbria. The Lake District. It’s the pretty route to Scotland.’

  ‘It is pretty, especially in the snow,’ Lumin adds, gazing up at the white sheet of sky as small snowflakes begin to flutter down and land on the windshield, quickly disappearing as Amber wipes them away.

  ‘Just light snow. The heavy stuff isn’t forecast here for a few days.’

  Lumin glances sideways at Amber’s steering wheel. ‘What’s that?’ she asks, gesturing at the plastic contraption fitted to it.

  ‘A steering wheel knob,’ Amber explains. ‘I can bash it with my useless hand and it turns the car on. It can do other stuff too like turn my indicators on and get the windscreen wipers going.’

  ‘Good when snowpocalypse comes.’

  ‘It’s not coming,’ Amber says resolutely. ‘I checked the proper forecast, not the trashy tabloid one. We’ll be fine.’

  Lumin shrugs. ‘I don’t care if it does anyway, being stuck in snow is better than being back in that hospital.’

  ‘Was it really that bad?’

  Lumin arches an eyebrow at Amber then sighs. ‘It’s not the actual place, you know. It was the idea of it. I love being here with you,’ she adds with a smile, making Amber’s heart soar. Amber realises with certainty then that she is doing the right thing.

  ‘So,’ Lumin says, reaching into her bag and pulling out the different sweets Amber brought for the journey, ‘Fizz Balls or toffees?’ ‘Let’s start with the Fizz Balls.’

  ‘That’s what I was thinking.’ She opens the pack and offers one to Amber. Amber gestures to her good hand, which is busy with the steering wheel.

  ‘Oops, sorry,’ Lumin says. ‘Here, I’ll be your sweet feeder.’ She gets a sweet out and pops it Amber’s mouth as they laugh.

  ‘Mmmmm,’ Amber says as she swirls the Fizz Ball around her tongue. ‘Reminds me of my childhood.’

  ‘What was your childhood like?’ Lumin asks, wrapping her cardigan around herself.

  ‘Good. Apart from …’ Amber gestures to her damaged hand. ‘Other than that, I had a great childhood. My parents split up when I was a kid, but my mum made sure it didn’t affect me much.’

  ‘Do you still see your dad?’

  Amber shakes her head vehemently. ‘He walked out when I was three months old. Mum never forgave him. And he’s never bothered to get in touch. No birthday or Christmas cards. Nothing. I don’t even know where he’s living.’

  ‘That sucks.’ Lumin goes quiet.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t get it,’ Amber continues. ‘When I had Katy—’ She pauses suddenly, the name having passed her lips before she could stop herself.

  ‘Katy?’

  ‘I had a daughter. She died.’

  ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine. It’s been ten years.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Meningitis.’ Amber squeezes the steering wheel with her hand. ‘I don’t really fancy talking about it today.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Lumin shoots Amber a concerned look then chews thoughtfully on her sweets. ‘I wonder if my parents even know I’m missing right now?’ She frowns slightly. ‘It’s strange no one’s come forward. Do you
think they’re like your father, they just don’t know how to love?’

  ‘No,’ Amber says, shaking her head adamantly. ‘There will be a reason. They might be abroad. You might live in another country. Some people just don’t watch TV, read the papers. If you’re eighteen, maybe you’re at uni?’

  ‘But it’s Christmas soon. Surely if I am at uni, they’d be expecting me home?’

  Amber sighs. ‘True. But that gives us even more reason to be hopeful. Your family will definitely be wondering where you are if you have plans with them for Christmas.’

  Lumin peers out of the window at the soft falling snow. ‘Maybe.’ She’s silent and sullen for a few moments but then she turns back to Amber. ‘Does the snow remind you of what happened to your hand?’

  Amber tries to grasp at the memories from that day. She was so young, nearly five, so there are brief glimpses. She remembers the snow up to her shins. Air so cold it seemed to seep right beneath her skin. The horrible aching pain in the bones and sinews of her gloveless hand. Then after, the red and blue lights of the ambulance and the glaring white ceiling lights as she was stretchered down hospital corridors.

  ‘It’s hard to remember,’ Amber says. ‘I was at an age where memories haven’t quite formed yet. I just know what my mum told me.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  Amber looks at the stumps on her left hand. ‘I was desperate to play in the snow but it was too cold and the flakes were coming down too heavy. But I didn’t care. I got out of the house somehow. Mum says I was a handful back then.’ Amber rolls her eyes. ‘I managed to get myself locked out. I didn’t realise it though, I was too busy running around and building a snowman.’ Her eyes flit over to Lumin then back to the road again. ‘I lost a glove in the process and I remember the pain of the cold was so bad, I started crying. But the snow had turned into a blizzard by then and I couldn’t find my way back. I was out there for over an hour before someone found me.’ ‘Your mother didn’t notice for that long?’ Lumin asks. ‘Sorry,’ she quickly adds. ‘I’m not judging. I mean, what do I know?’