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

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The Girl on the Beach: A Heartbreaking Page Turner With a Stunning Twist Page 22

by Tracy Buchanan


  That night, I read her a chapter from the Chronicles of Narnia. She’d come quickly to chapter books, but still loved looking at the illustrations inside, trying to copy them when she drew.

  ‘Mummy?’

  I paused in my reading. ‘Yes, darling?’

  ‘Where’s the children’s daddy?’

  ‘At war, remember? That’s why they need to be evacuated.’

  She thought about it a moment then tilted her head. ‘So he’s not dead, like mine?’

  ‘Your daddy isn’t dead!’

  ‘That’s what one of the girls said. She said he must be if I haven’t even met him. She said I was an orphan.’

  I pulled her close, trying to hide my face. ‘You’re not an orphan! An orphan is someone whose mummy and daddy are gone.’

  She looked up at me. ‘I wish my daddy was here.’

  It was like she knew what had been going on. Of course, she didn’t. But I always felt there was this connection between us, like she could see right into my mind. I thought of Hekla then; she’d like that.

  I took a deep breath, sweeping Lumin’s fringe from her eyes. ‘Actually, darling, you might get a chance to meet your daddy.’

  She sat up straight. ‘What? Where is he?’

  ‘Scotland.’

  ‘Scotland? That’s ages away!’

  ‘Not too far.’

  ‘Am I going to meet him very soon?’

  I felt tears fill my eyes. ‘I hope so, darling.’

  Chapter Twenty

  I woke the next morning, nerves a-pitter-patter in my tummy. I hadn’t seen Dylan for so long … and now I was just an hour away from seeing him again. I think Lumin sensed my apprehension. She watched me, brow creased, as I helped her get ready for school. I wasn’t sure when she would meet her father. She seemed ready. But first I needed to see Dylan, talk to him.

  I dropped Lumin off at school, joining in half-heartedly with the school gate chitter-chatter. A couple of the mums had made me feel welcome. I was grateful for that but at that moment all I could think about was Dylan – I had no time for small talk. I walked back to the house. He said he’d arrive by 9.30. That gave me time to down some coffee, get myself together.

  But as I drew closer, I could see he’d already arrived.

  He was leaning against the brick wall outside my house, squinting up at the autumn sun. When I approached, he pushed away from the wall. His beard was shorter, more stubbled now, accentuating his distinctive cheekbones. His hair was coal black against the blue skies. He seemed to have lost weight. Still tall and muscled but leaner. And he looked tired. Even from where I was standing several metres away I could see it. Maybe the news he had a daughter had kept him up at night, as I too had been up all night.

  I walked over to him, feeling like I might be sick right there on the pavement, I was so nervous. We regarded each other for a few moments, so much unsaid.

  I was the first to speak. ‘I’m so sorry. Now I look back, I can’t really rationalise why I kept Lumin from you.’ I looked at him for a response but he just continued watching me, his hands dug deep in the pockets of his dark coat, the collar turned up. ‘I suppose it was a mixture of you saying you never wanted children,’ I continued, ‘plus how we parted. And after my parents …’ I was babbling, I knew that, but I needed to fill the oppressive silence.

  He looked up sharply. ‘I never officially said I didn’t want children. It was just a throwaway comment when I was young. As for how we parted, I thought I was doing you a favour.’

  ‘A favour?’

  ‘Your career. You were talking about packing it all in.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t! I just wanted to slow it down a bit, do less travelling.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said, eyes alive with emotion. ‘It’s your passion and yet there you were, saying you wanted to leave it all behind for me.’

  I laughed. ‘Wow. Do I really strike you as the kind of woman who’d give her career up for a man?’

  ‘No, it’s just—’ He paused, gazing at the road I’d just come from and taking in the small primary school in the distance. ‘It doesn’t matter now, does it? All that matters is Lumin. Is she at that school?’

  I nodded and his face softened. I got my house keys out. ‘Come in,’ I said. ‘I think we both need a coffee.’

  I opened the door and he walked in, looking huge in the tiny living room. ‘It’s no Scottish lodge but it suits us just fine,’ I said, suddenly feeling defensive of the little house I’d worked hard to buy.

  ‘No, it’s great,’ he said, taking in the soft throws on the sofas and the wildlife pictures on the walls. He paused as he noticed the sculpture of the bird he’d done for me that first Christmas on one of the bookshelves. Then he looked at the montage of pictures in a frame featuring Lumin and me over the years. He seemed to hold his breath, his eyes filling with tears. He walked over and touched her face with his fingers.

  ‘She looks just like you,’ he said.

  ‘I always think she looks like you.’

  He turned to me. ‘Both of us then. Jesus, Gwyneth, why the hell didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I already explained,’ I said miserably.

  ‘They’re not good enough excuses.’

  ‘Okay, fine. I was scared you’d reject her, like my parents rejected me.’

  He looked at me in surprise. ‘But … your parents are dead? Did something happen between you before they died?’

  I turned away. ‘I need coffee. Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, the anger still evident in his voice.

  I walked into the little kitchen and he followed, the atmosphere electric. As I switched on the kettle, Dylan walked up to the coat rack by the back door, taking in Lumin’s small jacket and her little wellington boots. He picked up one of the boots. ‘She’s tiny.’

  ‘She’s actually quite tall for her age. Another thing she got from you.’

  He placed the boot down, gently, then sat at the table, raking his fingers through his hair. ‘We’re both at fault,’ he conceded. ‘I shouldn’t have given you the impression I wouldn’t want to know my own child. You shouldn’t have kept her from me. You don’t have to explain about your parents, if you don’t want to. But just know, I would never reject a child of mine. Never.’

  I brought his coffee over and sat across from him, taking a sip of mine. ‘I know that, I suppose I always have. I shouldn’t have used it as an excuse. The number of times I thought about picking up the phone …’ I shook my head.

  ‘Nothing we can do about it now.’ He leant forward, his eyes in mine. ‘All I care about now is making up for lost time. I don’t want to freak Lumin out. But – but I so want to see her, soon. I want to build a relationship with her.’

  ‘I want you to as well. I know that now.’

  I let out a sob. How could I have kept him from her? Had my parents screwed me up so much?

  Dylan put his hand on my arm. ‘What happened with your parents, Gwyneth? What did they do to make you think keeping your daughter from her own father was better than the chance of my rejecting her?’

  I shook my head, wiping my tears away. ‘I don’t want to get into that now. This is about Lumin, not me.’

  ‘You’re right.’ He relaxed back in his chair, sprawling his long legs out as he sipped his coffee. ‘So when can I meet her?’

  ‘What about tomorrow? I’ll tell her tonight, after school. Then you can come here for dinner. We usually eat at five.’

  He nodded, dark eyes excited. He looked nervous too and my heart went out to him. He stood up.

  ‘You haven’t finished your coffee,’ I said, standing with him.

  ‘I can get one at the hotel.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ It was silly I was disappointed. He was here for Lumin, not me, and we’d said all we’d needed to say. But I still yearned for him to stick around a bit longer, let us catch up.

  ‘She loves art by the way,’ I said as I followed him out. ‘Like you.’

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sp; His smile lit up his face. ‘You mentioned that on the phone. That’s great. See you tomorrow?’

  I nodded. ‘Tomorrow.’

  I watched Lumin the next day as she stared out of the window, waiting for the first glimpse of her father and I ached to know what was going through her little mind. She’d taken the news about Dylan visiting with calm acceptance and a small smile. Now, as my heart floundered and I struggled to get my words out, she went over to the table and opened her pad. Then she began to draw something.

  ‘Does he like to draw?’ she asked. I nodded, telling her Dylan loved to make figurines out of wood and drawing animals too. ‘Did he draw the animals in your notepad?’ Lumin asked, eyes straying towards the notepad I always kept with me.

  I nodded again.

  ‘Well, if he likes wood, he’ll like trees,’ she said, finishing a drawing of a tree with a flourish.

  She carefully ripped the page out and went back to the windowseat, holding her picture tight in her little hand, ready to give to him when he arrived.

  I sat beside her, taking her other hand. ‘Feeling okay?’

  ‘Do you think he’ll like my drawing?’

  I smiled. ‘I know he will.’

  As I said that, Dylan’s car drew up. He looked out of his car window towards us, towards my daughter – our daughter. And I could tell from his face he was doing all he could to contain his emotions. He stepped out of the car, smiled and waved.

  Lumin lifted her hand too in a small wave, smiling hesitantly. ‘Is that him?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘He’s very big.’

  I laughed. ‘Yes.’

  Dylan went to the boot of his car and got out a large box, put it under his arm and walked up the path. Lumin ran to the door, suddenly so confident and excited, and opened it.

  ‘Is that for me?’ she asked, looking at the box.

  Dylan took in a deep breath as he looked at her, eyes shiny with tears. ‘Of course it is.’

  The look on his face seemed to make Lumin shy. She leant into me, wrapping her arm around my waist and hiding the picture she’d drawn for him behind her back.

  ‘Come in,’ I said, opening the door wide and letting him in, struggling to contain my own emotions. Lumin stuck to me, gazing up at Dylan with big eyes.

  He crouched down in front of her. ‘Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful,’ he said, stroking her soft hair and exploring her face. He looked up at me and I braced myself for hate and anger in his eyes. But instead, they were filled with happiness. Lumin smiled at him shyly and pressed her cheek against my hip, her eyes going to the box he’d brought with him. I wished I could be like that, focusing my mind on the triviality of a gift rather than the big-picture emotions I was contending with at that moment.

  ‘Want to see what’s in it?’ Dylan asked her.

  She nodded, her picture still behind her back as she followed him to the middle of the room. He put the box down in front of her and Lumin’s eyes lit up as she took in the picture on the outside.

  ‘An easel!’ she said. ‘They have one of those at school. I love it.’ ‘Phew!’ Dylan said. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d like.’

  Lumin bit her lip then pulled her painting from behind her back and handed it to Dylan. ‘For you.’

  He stared at it, eyes alight. ‘You did this?’

  Lumin nodded. ‘Mummy said you make things with wood so I thought you’d like trees. She said you’re really good.’

  Dylan’s eyes met mine then he looked back down at his daughter. ‘It’s beautiful. I used to draw lots when I was young too.’ His eyes strayed to my notepad, which was lying on the side, some of his sketches within it.

  ‘Will you draw something for me?’ Lumin asked Dylan.

  ‘Only if you draw another picture for me.’

  Lumin smiled. ‘We can have a drawing competition!’

  ‘Sounds great. Shall I unpack the easel and we can do it on there?’

  ‘Yes!’ Lumin said, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. Dylan laughed. I didn’t remember hearing him laugh like that, with such delight.

  ‘I’ll get on with dinner,’ I said, backing away. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing the end results.’

  As I prepared dinner, I watched them from the kitchen, feeling a riot of emotions, mainly guilt. They seemed so alike, which made it worse. By the time dinner was ready and I laid it out, they were both chatting away. Dylan asked Lumin questions about school, the village, her favourite films and more. I could see he was trying to fill in the jigsaw pieces of the past years he’d missed out on. I watched his handsome earnest face and Lumin’s smile, promising myself I would make up for this by ensuring he played a role in his daughter’s life from now on.

  When it was time for Lumin to go to bed, I let him read a story to her. He came down, looking wiped out. ‘Jesus, this is just so surreal. I feel like I’d know she was mine a mile away, you know,’ he said, face animated. ‘She looks like me, you’re right. And her mannerisms, some of them remind me of Alfie. There’s definitely McClusky in her.’ His face darkened. ‘Not that that’s always a good thing. Hopefully she got all the best parts.’

  I thought of what I’d overheard him and Cole talking about all those years back, the dark secret they all kept.

  ‘I booked my hotel for a week,’ Dylan said, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I’d love to visit, maybe even take her out for the day on Saturday?’

  I hesitated a moment. Of course I trusted him, but it was a big thing. And yet he was her father. ‘Sure. I’ll see what she thinks.’

  ‘Of course. And then after …’ He sighed. ‘I have a big job on in Germany soon. I don’t want to miss out on seeing Lumin though. But I have to go. The business needs the money.’ That dark look on his face again. ‘I don’t know if my mum mentioned that Dad had another stroke?’

  ‘Oh no, I’m so sorry.’

  He nodded sadly. ‘It means work’s even more busy than usual. Before what happened with Dad, I could have easily got out of the Germany trip but now … last thing he needs is the business he spent his life setting up falling apart. I don’t think his heart would take the strain.’

  ‘It’s fine, really. You can talk to Lumin on the phone, write letters,’ I said.

  And that was what we did. Each week, father and daughter talked on the phone and sent drawings and paintings to each other in the post. Lumin rushed in from school each afternoon to see if a letter had arrived from Dylan and waited patiently by the phone after dinner each Monday for his phone call. With the letters were cheques, upkeep for her. There wasn’t much interaction between Dylan and me. I understood, it was fine. This wasn’t about us. It was about father and daughter. But I still couldn’t help recalling what Mairi had said about him being in love with me. Had she just said it to bring her granddaughter back, fearful I wouldn’t allow contact if I thought Dylan didn’t love me?

  One day in December, I received a call from Dylan. ‘Oh, hi,’ I said when I answered it. ‘Lumin’s at school, I’m afraid. She doesn’t break up for Christmas for another two weeks.’

  ‘I know. In fact, it’s Christmas I’m calling about. Do you think Lumin’s ready to meet my family?’

  I went silent. I knew the day would come eventually. I was surprised Mairi hadn’t stuck around after coming to find Lumin all those weeks before. Dylan had been livid with her for not telling him first. I got the feeling she was being patient and not interfering, at the behest of her son.

  ‘I mean, they’re desperate to meet her,’ he continued. ‘I think she’ll love it.’

  ‘Okay. But how? Will they come here to visit?’

  ‘Well, I thought you might both like to come to Scotland for Christmas?’

  I thought of the last Christmas I’d spent with the McCluskys: in many ways, idyllic. In others, not so much. I twirled the phone cable around my fingers. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It’ll be good for her,’ Dylan said. ‘To meet her cousins, her grandparents, uncles and aunts.’<
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  ‘Cousins?’

  ‘Cole and Rhonda had another boy.’ I thought of what I’d overheard Dylan saying to Cole, about their marriage being one of convenience.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ I said. ‘I just don’t want to overwhelm her.’

  ‘I get it.’ But I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  When I broached the subject with Lumin, she jumped up from the dinner table in happiness, her eyes wide. ‘Yes! I want to meet my cousins!’

  So that was decided. I was going back to Scotland.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Gwyneth

  Audhild Loch

  22 December 1996

  Memories of the Christmas I’d spent with the McCluskys all those years ago rushed at me as I drove up towards the lodge a couple of weeks after my phone call with Dylan. Mainly good memories, but as I took in the iced-over lake, I couldn’t help seeing Heather curled up amongst the shards there, skin turning blue. Then, suddenly, a flashback to being beneath the loch’s surface, scrabbling at the broken glass in terror, just before Dylan saved me.

  ‘Are you okay, Mummy?’ Lumin asked.

  I blinked, looking at her concerned face. ‘Oh yes, just remembering last time I was here. How are you?’

  Lumin did that thing she did when she was nervous, sucking her thumb and twirling her hair around her finger, looking out of the window without answering. That was answer enough, and it made the knot of angst already twisting in my stomach tighten even more. I had casually suggested that we could turn around and go home when I’d noticed how quiet she was getting, but she’d vehemently shaken her head. ‘I want to see Daddy.’ Yes, she was already calling him Daddy. To me, anyway – I hadn’t yet heard her call Dylan Daddy on the phone.

  As we turned into the McCluskys’ private lane, I had to give way to a four-by-four. It passed and I recognised the two faces inside: Rosa and Gavin, the couple who had given me a lift to the train station. I smiled in greeting, wondering if they’d remember the bedraggled woman who’d turned up at their house seven Christmases ago. Rosa’s eyes widened then she nudged Gavin, pointing towards me. He turned to look at me, then Lumin, and his face turned to stone.

 

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