Wave Riders

by Lauren St. John

  The landscape seemed so alien. It was hard to believe that he and Jess belonged to it. That their parents had lived and worked in these fields, hills and forests.

  ‘A million years,’ Jack Trenton had told them. ‘That’s how long DNA lasts. If you’re wondering whether there’ll be traces of your mum and dad at Blakeney Park, the answer is yes. In a way, you’re going home.’

  Home came at them fast. With a bump.

  As the whoop-whoop of the engine powered down, Jude unbuckled his seatbelt and removed his earmufflers and headset.

  The pilot helped them out of the helicopter. Astrid put an arm around Jess, and Ivan the bodyguard protected Jude as they ducked under the slicing blades. Snow whirled in the updraught.

  We’ll be safe here, Jude told himself as they crunched across the landing pad.

  I hope.

  14

  THE GODFATHER

  ‘You’re late.’

  Mrs Blakeney was smiling, but her tone was cross. The lights of the hallway chandelier gave her teeth an iridescent sparkle, as if an oyster bed had been stripped bare in the creation of them.

  ‘Sorry, Marina,’ simpered Astrid. ‘Air traffic control refused to allow the pilot to take off in the fog.’

  ‘Health and safety gone bananas,’ Marina said dismissively. ‘Never mind. It can’t be helped.’

  She turned her attention to the twins, as if noticing them for the first time. ‘So great to see you, Jess and Ju—’

  A spasm flickered across her face. She swayed in her high heels, clutching Astrid for support.

  The housekeeper started forward. ‘Madam, are you unwell? What did I tell you about overdoing it?’

  ‘Nonsense, Mary. Rush of blood to the head, that’s all. Don’t fuss.’

  Recovering, she took the twins’ hands. ‘My dears, welcome to Blakeney Park. I hope it won’t displease you to hear that I have invited a few friends for afternoon tea to celebrate your arrival. Everyone was so excited to meet you. Caspian can’t wait. Lizette, where’s Caspian? I told him to be here.’

  A young woman with a short blonde bob hurried over. ‘He’ll be down any minute, Mrs Blakeney. He was finishing an important project.’

  Marina frowned. ‘What could be more important than meeting our new arrivals? Kindly fetch him. Before you go, Lizette, allow me to introduce you to your newest charges. Jess and Jude, this is our fabulous au pair. She’s from South Africa. She’ll keep an eye on you and be your guide to the house and estate.’

  Jess was secretly relieved that Lizette seemed both normal and friendly.

  ‘Astrid, I have a stylist waiting in the cloakroom,’ Marina was saying. ‘Carlos works miracles with helicopter hair, and his steam iron will banish the wrinkles from the kids’ clothes.’

  ‘Shall we put our backpacks away first?’ asked Jess, glancing at the wide marble staircase. She was dying to see her new room.

  ‘Heavens, there’s no time for that. We have fifty-three guests waiting. Lord and Lady Asher are here.’

  She said it as though Jess had the first clue who the Ashers were.

  Seventeen minutes later, the twins were steamed, cleaned, combed and talking to Lord and Lady Asher under a fake palm tree. The striped marquee, which thronged with guests, had been transformed into a Caribbean paradise, only with a truckload of glitter.

  The aristocrats looked precisely as Jess had imagined lords and ladies to look: cherry-cheeked, crepey and jovial.

  ‘We’ve been gripped by your adventures, haven’t we, Harold?’ said Lady Asher.

  Harold beamed benevolently. ‘Fascinating stuff.’

  ‘Your timber cabin Florida home! Alligators in every creek—’

  ‘Burmese pythons in every cistern!’

  ‘How could I have forgotten the python,’ cried Lady Asher. ‘So adorable. And, I’m told that you were raised by waitresses and dish-washers in a hurricane zone. You survived that – and the Burmese python – only to have your high-seas escapade interrupted by tragedy and shipwreck. One couldn’t make it up!’

  ‘That’s Clifford, for you,’ Lord Asher said approvingly. ‘Has a knack for predicting what’ll sell papers.’

  Jess had a prediction of her own: Jude was on the verge of a panic attack. The marquee was everything he hated. Crowded, stifling, loud and windowless.

  ‘Jude, we need a code word or signal for when it all gets too scary and too much,’ she’d whispered to him when they were briefly alone. ‘How about “You Gotta Friend”?’

  He’d grinned and agreed.

  She was about to use that code now when a ripple went through the marquee.

  ‘The Blakeney Brothers . . .’ murmured Lady Asher.

  The crowd parted before Mark and Caspian. Though they were half-brothers, they were uncannily alike. They had identical haircuts and silver-grey suits.

  Lizette materialized at the twins’ side. ‘Apologies, Lord and Lady Asher. I have to borrow these two for a photo op.’

  She steered them through the crowd to meet Mark and Caspian. Up close, the half-brothers had something else in common: a superciliousness disguised by fine manners.

  ‘A pleasure to meet you,’ said Caspian, shaking their hands and flashing a professional smile at the photographer. ‘I told Mummy that all I wanted for Christmas was some pals to hang out with, and here you are.’

  ‘Caspian, you’re such a card!’ Mark laughed. ‘Don’t mind my little brother, kids. We’re delighted to meet you.’

  Jude’s cheeks reddened with shyness. ‘Nice to meet you too,’ he managed.

  Jess added: ‘Thanks for having us. It’s an honour to be here.’ She’d rehearsed the words on the plane, but they sounded imbecilic spoken out loud.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, Mark,’ said the photographer. ‘Any chance we could get some shots of the four of you under the lights? Once we have you arranged, we’ll switch the display on.’

  He positioned the twins in the middle with the Blakeney half-brothers on either side. ‘Lights, camera, action!’

  There was a crackle as the wire sign arched over their heads lit up.

  WELCOME, TWIN

  ‘Which one?’ asked a wag in the crowd. There was an outbreak of giggles before the photographer rushed on to the stage full of apologies. The ‘S’ fizzled into life.

  Caspian’s shoulders shook with laughter. He noticed Jess staring at him and pretended to be coughing.

  ‘Mark, how do you feel about Clifford and Marina inviting a couple of children you’ve never met before to live at Blakeney Park?’ called one of the guests.

  ‘Long as they don’t plan on muscling in on our inheritance, it’s fine with me,’ said Mark, to more merriment.

  ‘Yeah, long as they’re not after our inheritance,’ agreed Caspian with a grin.

  ‘And how about you, Jess and Jude?’ asked the photographer. ‘How does it feel to know that you’re going to be living at the legendary Blakeney Park?’

  ‘We feel very lucky and extremely grateful,’ the twins answered together. They’d been repeating the same line for weeks because everyone seemed to expect it of them.

  ‘What charming children,’ someone said. ‘Here comes the cake,’ Lizette told the twins.

  A waiter was wheeling in a trolley laden with a spectacular island-themed creation. Dolphins somersaulted, flamingos flapped, crabs danced, mermaids frolicked and a pirate dozed beneath a palm tree.

  Jess couldn’t take her eyes off the message printed on the icing beach.

  WELCOME, TWIN

  ‘Perhaps this is the welcome for the other twin,’ someone stage-whispered.

  ‘Once could be carelessness. Twice is no coincidence,’ another guest observed slyly.

  The waiter was having a meltdown. ‘The ‘S’ was there when I left the kitchen. I know it was. Oh, look, here it is. It’s slipped down the side. I’ve fixed it now.’

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Astrid said into the microphone. ‘I give you: Mr and Mrs Blakeney.’

  M
arina, dazzling in a silk dress, came through the crowd holding the arm of Clifford Blakeney. He was tall and balding and wearing a tuxedo and bow tie.

  ‘The Godfather’ moved slowly through the smiling guests, murmuring and nodding to acquaintances. He exuded a powerful charisma. It surged through the marquee like a rogue wave.

  As her new guardian approached, Jess fought the urge to flee. What if there was more to his nickname than a passing resemblance to a mafia don in a movie?

  The guests fell silent.

  Lizette pushed the twins forward. Clifford’s fingers were stubby and clammy when he shook hands with them. To cover her unease, Jess gabbled about being honoured and grateful again. It seemed to please him, which was just as well because Jude had been struck dumb.

  Clifford’s voice was so low and husky that the twins had to strain to hear him.

  ‘You like cake?’

  ‘We love cake,’ enthused Jess.

  Clifford addressed the room at large. ‘You heard the girl! What are you waiting for? Let’s eat cake.’

  The rest of the day went by in a blur, marked only by a conversation Jess overheard in the bathroom.

  ‘I shouldn’t think Caspian will take kindly to having his thunder stolen – not after being Prince of Blakeney Park for thirteen years,’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Those twins might need to watch their backs.’

  ‘Oh, I shouldn’t worry about the twins,’ responded her friend. ‘They can handle themselves. If I were Marina, I’d be more concerned about Caspian. The new boy looks as if he was raised by pirates.’

  ‘Ha ha! Maybe the boys do have something in common after all.’

  By the time the last guest left, the twins were dizzy with jetlag. Climbing the marble staircase felt like ascending the summit of Everest without oxygen. As Jess followed Marina past gilded oil paintings of aristocrats and huntsmen, she felt judged and found wanting.

  ‘Goodnight, twins!’ Caspian said with the violent enthusiasm of a boy who’s eaten too much sugar. He bowed theatrically. ‘I hope you sleep very, very, very well.’

  ‘That boy!’ His mother laughed as she watched him dash up to the next level with Lizette in patient pursuit. ‘I wish I had half his energy.’

  Leading them along a red-carpeted corridor, Marina opened the second door.

  All the cares and worries of that long, strange day lifted from Jess’s shoulders when she walked into her new room. There was a four-poster bed and a bookshelf that took up half a wall. The books’ spines were turned inwards so Jess couldn’t see their titles, but what mattered was that they were books. A pile of brand-new mystery and adventure novels awaited her on the bedside table.

  The wardrobe was open, displaying the lovely clothes she’d chosen. A basket of goodies – bubble bath, soaps and creams – occupied a shelf. A second basket containing fruit was on a table beside an armchair.

  A wide bay window offered a moonlit vista of the snowy garden and fields. The window seat was occupied by creepy wide-eyed dolls. Jess decided she would hide them in a drawer at the first opportunity.

  ‘Is this all for me?’ she said in amazement. ‘It’s better than a five-star hotel. Not that I’ve stayed in one, but I’ve seen photos.’

  Marina laughed a tinkly laugh. ‘All for you. I’m thrilled that you like it.’

  ‘It’s beautiful. I love it so much.’ Jess blinked back tired, happy tears. ‘Where’s Jude going to be? Through there?’ She looked hopefully at the connecting door.

  ‘We’ve had a slight problem with your brother’s room,’ said the housekeeper. She’d come in unnoticed. ‘The decorator had a family emergency and left us in the lurch.’

  ‘Honestly, these workmen are impossible.’ Marina sighed. ‘If it’s not one excuse, it’s ten others. What Mary’s trying to explain is that the man slunk off without finishing the job. We did consider putting Jude in there anyway—’

  ‘I’m sure it’s totally fine,’ said Jude. ‘I can sleep anywhere. Hammocks, floors, boat decks, that fluffy rug over there.’

  ‘I’m glad you said that, because one of the maids tripped over a paint pot as she moved the decorator’s ladder and cloths.’ Marina gave a pained smile. ‘The room’s unusable for the foreseeable future. We came up with what we hope is an excellent solution. You’re to have your father’s old room, Jude.’

  ‘Is that nearby?’ Jess asked hopefully. ‘On this corridor?’

  ‘Well, of course not.’ The housekeeper was indignant. ‘Myself and the au pair are the only staff who live in the hall itself. The rest of the help live on the estate, as your parents did when they worked here. The room we’ve put you in was good enough for your dad, Jude, so I trust it will be good enough for you, at least until the decorator returns. We’ve done everything possible to make it comfortable. Eddie, the groundskeeper, will show you the way.’

  15

  HORSE BOY

  Jude followed Eddie through the dark gardens. The air was Siberian but, beneath his new parka, he was boiling. Hot drops of humiliation trickled down his spine.

  Half of him was glad that each step carried him further away from Blakeney Park. The other half felt as rejected and cast aside as a stray dog.

  Eddie said nothing, just leaned into the buffeting cold wind like a soldier on a night march.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Jude, slipping in the snow as he hurried to keep up.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  Eddie stopped at an arched gateway in an ivy-covered wall. Ice coated the padlock. He had to hold it between his palms to melt it enough to insert the key. The iron gate squealed open. Beyond it was a track leading to a snow-covered barn.

  Jude knew where they were heading now. He should have guessed. Should have known that if his father had lived anywhere on the estate, it would have been close to the creatures he loved.

  The barn door was crusty with snow. As Eddie wrestled it aside, the heady smell of horse and sweet hay came at Jude in a warm wave. There were twelve dimly lit stalls. Most horses stayed in the shadows, but a couple whickered in the hope of a late-evening treat. Unexpectedly, the bay in the last stall brushed Jude’s arm with its velvet muzzle.

  Eddie didn’t slow. He passed the stable manager’s office, where a night light lent a blue cast to the grain bins, bridles, rosettes and a whiteboard of feeding instructions, then ducked beneath a low beam and trotted up some steep steps.

  More keys than a prison warden, thought Jude, watching Eddie trying to find the one that unlocked the middle of the three doors. It opened on to a plainly furnished room. A biting blast of wind nearly froze Jude as he entered. There were cosier igloos.

  Eddie cursed beneath his breath. ‘Sorry, Jude – I thought they’d have had the sense to close the window.’

  Slamming it shut, he turned the dial up on a feeble-looking radiator. The narrow bed had been made up with a duvet patterned with yachts. Someone had made an effort with that, at least.

  Jude’s new clothes hung on a rail, his suitcase beside them. His backpack shared a chair with a saddle. There was a jute mat on the floor and a jug of water and a lamp on a rickety bedside table.

  ‘Best we could do at short notice,’ said Eddie, reading Jude’s mind. ‘The grooms only use this place if a horse is sick or about to foal. Seth, our equestrian manager, heard that your dad did the same. Jim and your mum apparently lived in a cottage on the grounds. It was knocked down before my time and replaced with staff apartments. That’s where I’m off to now.’

  He looked around. ‘What else? Uh, there’s a shower and loo through there and a storeroom beyond that. We’ve put Mrs Blakeney’s gift in there for you. Hope you like it. Before I go, two rules. One: don’t be tempted to go walkabout on the grounds between 10 p.m. and 5 a.m. – not if you don’t want a chunk chomped out of your arse. Mr B’s Rottweilers take their guard-dog duties seriously. Two: if you get night terrors or need help, you can reach me any time by dialling twelve on the dinosaur line.’

  He tapped a phone on the w
all. ‘For the hall, dial zero. Mary, the housekeeper, will pick up. Breakfast’s at eight. Don’t be late.’

  After Eddie had fetched him an extra rug for the bed, Jude glanced towards the house. It glowed golden and enchanted through the snowy trees.

  ‘Might not feel that way now but, trust me, you have the better deal,’ said Eddie following his gaze. ‘Cooped up with them lot like an orchid in a hothouse – well, it’s not natural. I’d choose the horses every time. But maybe that’s just me.’

  As soon as Eddie had gone, Jude went to the storeroom. His new red-and-black bike was hanging on a rack on the wall. As Marina had promised, it was the best bike he’d ever seen. He was about to lift it down when he saw the tyres were flat. Worse, the rear one had a visible nick, as if it has been pierced with a blade.

  ‘Of course,’ Jude muttered. Everything else had been ruined, why not the bike. He was so cold and exhausted, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  Climbing into bed fully dressed, he sat hugging his knees. Loneliness swamped him. Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine his father in this place. It was a room without personality. An icy shell. Everything about it felt wrong. The floor was too still, for a start. He missed the soothing rocking of the yacht. Missed Jess, who’d looked stricken as he was evicted from the house. Missed Gabe. Missed the mum and dad he’d never known.

  Then he remembered Sam, alone and scared in some sterile airport quarantine facility. In three or four days, the dog would be joining them. Would he be allowed to share Jude’s stable room? That would make it more bearable.

  Despite the extra rug, which smelt strongly of horse, Jude couldn’t stop shivering. Eventually, he sourced a chilly draught coming through the wooden floor near his bed. When he pulled back the mat, a board was missing. He had a clear view of the stall below.

  Jude lay on his front to get a better look. Beneath him, the bay mare stood dozing. Her eyelids drooped. He fancied he could hear her breathing.

  Jude breathed back. The horse’s ears pricked. She looked up and he saw shining black eyes.