The Family Secret. Tracy Buchanan

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СКАЧАТЬ Ridiculous!

      I quickly slipped my hand from his before I begged him to take me back to the lodge. ‘Good to meet you too, Dylan,’ I said. ‘And thank you for saving me.’ I walked around to the driver’s side and smiled at him over the car’s roof. ‘Have a good day celebrating baby Jesus’s birth, okay?’

      He cracked a smile. ‘I sure will. You take care, Gwyneth.’

      We held each other’s gaze for a few moments then I got into the car. I paused a moment, taking a few deep breaths in the safety of the car’s darkness. My hands were trembling slightly, my heart pounding. There was a voice inside me screaming Stay! Stay! Stay! but I’d promised myself a long time ago I’d carry on moving, not stopping, no people to tie me down, to disappoint me, to have me disappoint them. Only Reg had got through that. And now this man, this bearded giant who made me feel as warm as the whisky he drank. What was wrong with me? I barely knew him.

      I quickly turned the key in the ignition before I changed my mind.

      The car spluttered then died.

      I turned the key again but, still, nothing.

      ‘You have to be kidding me,’ I hissed.

      Dylan knocked on the car window and I unrolled it, ice cracking.

      ‘Won’t start?’ he asked.

      ‘Doesn’t look like it. I think it might be the fuel line, as it is turning over.’

      ‘You know your stuff.’

      ‘Don’t look so surprised! I have to when I’m in the middle of nowhere filming and a car is my only getaway.’ I grabbed the torch I always took with me when I travelled, got out of the car and opened the bonnet. I aimed the light at the fuel filter as Dylan stood next to me, leaning close to have a look too.

      ‘Looks like it is the fuel filter,’ he said, gesturing to the fuel seeping out of one of the pipes.

      I sighed. ‘Yep. Not easily fixed. No flow, no go.’

      ‘Well, that’s decided. I’m not saying this place doesn’t make a great bedroom,’ Dylan said, gesturing to the backseat of the car. ‘God knows I’ve spent a few nights out here staring up at the stars, but I wouldn’t recommend it in the winter. And I’d offer to give you a lift but I’ve had a few drinks, as have the others.’

      ‘Taxi?’ I asked half-heartedly. Truth was, I wasn’t disappointed the car wouldn’t start. Something inside me was yearning to stay and anyway, my fate had been decided by a faulty fuel filter.

      Dylan laughed. ‘On Christmas Eve? You have to be kidding.’

      I stared up the road. There was a bell of excitement ringing inside, one I was trying to stifle. I could feel this might be the beginning of something, and, truth was, it scared me. Christmases reminded me of a time I had a family to celebrate with, a time before the fracture that opened up between my parents and me. But Dylan, Dylan with his gorgeous face and huge hands and that smile, beaming at me in that moment, tantalising, teasing …

      ‘Okay,’ I said in an exhale of breath. ‘If your family won’t mind?’

      ‘Won’t mind? It’ll make their Christmas. Come on.’

      He hauled my overnight bag over his shoulder and I followed him back to the house, the twinkle of its golden lights and the sound of laughter within warming me up. When we stepped inside the house, Oscar was walking through the hallway with a tray of steaming mulled wine.

      He paused, his face lighting up. ‘You changed your mind?’

      ‘Her car wouldn’t start,’ Dylan explained.

      ‘Ah, well then, it’s fate!’ Oscar declared, approaching me with the tray and gesturing for me to take a glass.

      ‘If it’s okay though,’ I quickly said. ‘I don’t want to impose. It is Christmas, after all.’

      ‘What did Mairi say about the candles in the window?’ Oscar said, gesturing towards the triangle of candles that flickered in the living-room window. ‘It’s Christmas, a time for welcoming guests into the house. It’s the McClusky clan way and frankly, we’ve been sorely missing being able to fulfil that tradition in recent years, this place is so remote. And now we have the most wonderful of guests, a beautiful documentary-maker. So come in, make yourself at home. Consider yourself an honorary McClusky.’

      Dylan gave me an embarrassed smile at his dad’s speech. But as I took a quick sip of the delicious mulled wine, I felt a bit overcome at the generosity of Oscar’s words. There had been so many Christmas Days spent alone, or working, over the years. Sad memories too of that first Christmas in the hotel, yearning for my parents as I served Christmas lunch to guests, the feel of the delicate bracelet they’d sent me upon my wrist. ‘Christmas is a religious festival, Gwyneth,’ my aunt had barked when she’d noticed me crying. ‘Are you religious? No. So it’s just another day, another day to work and make money. The sooner you wrap your head around that, the better you’ll feel.’ So from that moment, I had wrapped my head around it. And I thought I was okay with it.

      Until now.

      I smiled up at the two men. ‘Thank you.’ Then I looked out at the loch, glistening beneath the moonlight. How strange to think nearly losing my life in that frozen lake had brought me here.

       Chapter Six

       Amber

       Winterton Chine

       13 December 2009

      ‘A lake. A frozen lake!’

      Amber wakes with a start. She opens her eyes, pulling herself from her slumped position on the chair. A shard of sunlight slices through the blinds. She follows it towards the girl, who’s sitting up in her hospital bed, eyes wide. She looks even younger, pale lashes against her cheeks, which are flushed from sleep. Amber feels her heart contract at the sight of her. She’s such a bloody softie, even when she tries not to be. A total sucker. That’s why she’d ended up staying with the girl all night in hospital, unable to bear the thought of her being here alone.

      ‘What’s this about a lake?’ Amber asks, rubbing her eyes.

      ‘It was dream I had, of a lake,’ the girl replies. Her eyes drift towards the window and the sea outside. ‘It was frozen. There – there was a house too. Made of wood. It was huge, with massive windows.’

      Amber leans forward. ‘That’s good. Might be a memory. Anything else?’ The girl shakes her head and Amber pats her pale hand. ‘It’ll come.’

      She stands up and stretches, the notepad that had been found with the girl slipping off her lap. She’d gone through it the night before, just as the hospital staff had, hoping to find some clues they might have missed. There was nothing of use though, just notes written about various wildlife by whoever owned it and some sketches too, delicate and detailed.

      Amber СКАЧАТЬ