All My Secrets Page 13

Mr Lomax listens attentively, leaning forward over his desk, his fingertips pressed together.

  ‘Then it started raining and we sheltered in this cave and at the back of the cave were these stones that spelled out my real mum’s initials – IG.’ I hesitate. ‘And DL which are your initials.’

  Mr Lomax’s head jerks up. He stares at me for a second, then his gaze switches to Josh. ‘Did you see these stones too?’

  Josh shifts uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Er . . .’ He shoots an apologetic look at me.

  ‘He kicked them over because it was dark when he ran up and he didn’t see them,’ I explain.

  ‘Right, I see.’ Mr Lomax gives a weary sigh.

  ‘I think it was my mum’s ghost trying . . . trying to show a connection between you and her.’ I tail off, unable to accuse him of what I’m more and more certain is the truth: that the carefully-spoken, middle-aged man in front of me killed my mother.

  There’s an awkward silence. Josh stares at the floor. Mr Lomax wrinkles his brow. ‘Isn’t it more likely the stones just formulated themselves into shapes that looked like letters? After all, an “I” is basically just a straight line.’

  ‘No,’ I say.

  Josh says nothing.

  ‘They were definitely letters, all four of them, and they can’t have been there very long,’ I argue. ‘The tide would have washed them away otherwise. It was coming up fast when we were there; we found a gap . . . a tunnel . . . that took us inland.’

  ‘Yes, there are a lot of those on the island,’ Mr Lomax says.

  ‘The tunnel turned into this underground pool inside the cave,’ I explain. ‘We had to swim through it to get out.’

  ‘And there are a lot of pool caves too.’ Mr Lomax sighs. ‘I can see why you were soaked when you got back here.’ He shakes his head. ‘I’m very disappointed in you, Evie. You promised me you wouldn’t run off again and yet that is exactly what you appear to have done today, this time dragging Josh into danger as well as yourself.’

  ‘No one dragged me,’ Josh says, bristling. ‘I make my own decisions.’

  ‘Fine, then you’re both equally to blame. Not that blame is helpful here . . .’ Mr Lomax sits back and crosses his arms. ‘What I’m trying to say is that your lack of responsibility has only led you into life-threatening danger. And for what? For nothing.’

  I sit back. Clearly, Mr Lomax has no intention of admitting to any involvement in Irina’s time at Lightsea fifteen years ago, let alone her murder.

  ‘Josh, would you leave us?’ Mr Lomax asks.

  Josh shoots me a sympathetic glance, then leaves the office.

  Mr Lomax leans forward. I shiver. He may appear all reasonable and mild-mannered, but if he really did kill my mother he is a murderer. The thought chills me to the bone.

  ‘Evie, I’m very concerned about your behaviour today. I hoped that our programme here of structure and discipline, with regular chores and plenty of opportunity to talk through your feelings, might help you come to terms with your recent discovery about your birth mother. But instead you seem to be becoming more obsessed than ever. This last incident is the most worrying yet – getting trapped by the tide because you think you see a ghost, then hallucinating about a set of stones that—’

  ‘I didn’t hallucinate them,’ I protest, furious. ‘I know my mother was here on Lightsea and I think she died here.’ I stop, still wary of actually accusing him of killing her.

  ‘And why on earth do you think that?’ Mr Lomax asks.

  ‘Well, for one thing there’s the photo I found here in your office,’ I blurt out.

  ‘What?’ Mr Lomax’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘There isn’t – wasn’t – a picture of your mother in this office.’

  I look away, cursing myself for letting that detail slip.

  Mr Lomax taps his fingers together. Once. Twice. Very slow and deliberate.

  ‘Show me, Evie,’ he says. ‘I’d like to see this photograph. Will you fetch it?’

  I hesitate for a second. I hadn’t meant to challenge Lomax like that, but maybe it will prove to be a good thing. Perhaps once he sees proof that Irina was here on Lightsea he’ll stop denying all knowledge of her.

  ‘It’s up in the girls’ bedroom.’ My heart thuds.

  ‘Very well.’ Mr Lomax calls Miss Bunnock in and asks her to escort me upstairs, where Pepper and Anna are asleep. Anna’s hair gleams in the light from outside the house while Pepper is starfished across the top of her bed. She’s still dressed. I’m guessing she was trying to wait up for me, but couldn’t stay awake.

  I scuttle over to my bed and reach under my pillow. I left the photo underneath Irina’s ballet shoes. My hands find the shoes straightaway, but nothing else. I lift up the pillow. Behind me, Miss Bunnock sucks in her breath.

  Because the photo is gone. And in its place is a knife.

  Twenty-two

  Miss Bunnock orders me downstairs. Back in Mr Lomax’s office, she lays the knife from under my pillow on his desk.

  ‘What’s this?’ Mr Lomax asks.

  ‘The photo has disappeared,’ I say, my voice shaking.

  ‘I see,’ Mr Lomax says, in a voice that suggests he doesn’t believe it was ever real.

  ‘But we did find this under Evie’s pillow where she said the photo would be.’ Miss Bunnock points to the knife.

  Lomax sighs. ‘Oh, Evie.’

  ‘I have no idea how that got there,’ I insist. My head spins. Who switched the photo with the knife? And why? Did Mr Lomax know the knife would be there? Is that why he sent me for the photo?

  Mr Lomax rubs his forehead. ‘Please, Evie, this puts everything in a very different light.’

  I look up. What does that mean?

  ‘I agree.’ Miss Bunnock meets his eyes. ‘Clearly, a danger to herself or others . . .’

  ‘What?’ I glare at her. ‘I’m not. I already told you, I don’t know anything about the knife.’

  ‘There’s no history of violence,’ Mr Lomax muses, more to himself than to me or Miss Bunnock. ‘Evie, I need to ask you something very serious,’ he continues. ‘Did you take the knife because you’ve been . . . having thoughts about hurting yourself?’

  ‘No. I didn’t, I don’t . . .’ I suck in my breath.

  ‘I’m just asking about your feelings,’ Mr Lomax asks gently. ‘Are you sure this knife isn’t really a cry for help?’

  ‘No.’ I clutch the arm of my chair. Is it possible Lomax put the knife there himself to make it look like I’m going crazy?

  Mr Lomax sighs again. ‘I think you should get a good night’s sleep, Evie, then we’ll talk again in the morning.’ He stands up. The silence in the room, the whole house, presses down on me. I glance at the window. It’s stopped raining, but the earlier downpour has left tracks all along the dark glass.

  ‘I’m not lying!’ I insist. ‘Someone else put the knife there. And right now I’m thinking maybe it was you.’

  Miss Bunnock tuts. Mr Lomax’s eyes widen with horror.

  ‘Of course it wasn’t me,’ he says. ‘Evie, I’m seriously concerned about you.’

  ‘Well, you don’t need to be.’ My knuckles are white on the chair arms. Clearly, Lomax isn’t going to admit to any wrongdoing. I turn to Miss Bunnock. ‘He’s making it up about me wanting to hurt myself.’

  Miss Bunnock averts her gaze.

  Lomax taps his fingers together. ‘OK, Evie, off to bed. I’m going to permit you to lie in tomorrow morning. Miss Bunnock will make sure the other girls don’t wake you. Then I’d like to talk with you again, once you’re rested.’

  ‘Oh.’ I think fast. After everything that’s happened this evening, there’s no way I’m going to get a chance to find my mobile and retrieve Gavin’s number tonight – but maybe there’s another way to reach him. Mr Lomax is clearly trying to make out I’m mad to stop anyone taking what I’m saying seriously, so perhaps I should play along a little, use the situation to my advantage.

  ‘Maybe in the morning you might let me call my
uncle,’ I suggest. ‘I know it’s against the rules here, but I do feel . . . er, confused now . . . and Uncle Gavin has a way of explaining things that might help me accept what you’re saying.’

  Mr Lomax studies my face. I return his gaze, feeling my cheeks flush. I’m sure that if I can explain everything I’ve found out to Gavin I can get him to take me off this island and look into the circumstances of Irina’s death again.

  Mr Lomax nods. ‘I think perhaps in your case we do need to speak with your family. As soon as the phones are working, you can make a call. The storm brought down our power lines so we’re operating on backup electricity and have no way of contacting the mainland.’

  ‘You mean we’re cut off?’ A shiver snakes down my spine.

  ‘Well, the storm looks like it’s abating, which means Mr Bradley will be able to take our boat to the mainland tomorrow morning, bring back someone to do the necessary repairs. I’ll . . .’ he smiles at me, ‘. . . we’ll both be able to talk to your uncle by tomorrow afternoon, I hope.’

  ‘Provided the storm goes away,’ I say.

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid if the storm comes back as forecast then there’s no way any boat will be able to get through.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I stand up.

  A few minutes later, I’m back in the bedroom. At least – storm allowing – I’ll be able to talk to Uncle Gavin tomorrow. I lie down on my bed, pull the covers over my head and hug Irina’s ballet shoes to me. Soon I should have answers. Soon.

  The next thing I know it’s daylight. I sit bolt upright, forgetting for a moment where I am. Anna’s bed opposite is empty, the sheets folded and smoothed under the pillow. Pepper’s bed is also deserted, and the covers drawn up, though far less neatly. I tuck Irina’s ballet shoes back under my pillow, shuddering as I remember the knife that was left there last night.

  The sun outside is already high in the sky, though partly hidden behind a bank of cloud. The nearby trees are bending and swaying in the wind, but there’s no sign of the predicted storm. Which means Mr Bradley is probably already on his way in the boat to fetch someone to repair the phone lines. And soon I’ll be able to speak to my uncle.

  I hurry into my clothes, then race downstairs. I’m starving, so I head straight for the kitchen. The hall clock says it’s just past ten, so I’m assuming the kitchen will be empty, with everyone doing chores around the house and in the grounds. But to my surprise all the others except Samuel are still sitting around the table, talking in low voices as I rush in.

  ‘Hey, Evie, they wouldn’t let us wake you!’ Pepper jumps up, eyes wide with excitement.

  Kit and Josh have their backs to me. They turn as Pepper says my name.

  I skid to a halt. The sight of them side by side is like someone throwing a bucket of ice water into my face. Kit smiles, as good-looking as ever in a tight blue T-shirt. Josh raises his eyebrows. His quizzical look sets my heart racing.

  I’m with Kit, I think.

  But it is Josh whose face I linger on.

  Twenty-three

  I stand, frozen in the kitchen doorway, my eyes still fixed on Josh.

  ‘Are you OK, Evie?’ Kit asks.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

  ‘Josh says you got trapped by the sea and had to swim out of a cave,’ Pepper declares with relish.

  Josh gives a tiny shake of the head to let me know that he hasn’t said anything about the ghost or the stones in the cave; that he knows I wouldn’t want everyone discussing those intimate details. I try to convey my thanks with my eyes.

  ‘Evie?’ Kit asks. ‘Are you really all right?’

  I look at him at last, then at Pepper. ‘Course,’ I say. ‘Though Josh basically saved my life yesterday.’

  Josh leans back in his chair, trying to look modest.

  ‘Wow,’ Anna breathes, shooting him an admiring glance.

  Pepper’s eyes grow wider. She digs Anna in the ribs. ‘I knew it. Tell us all the details.’

  I can feel Kit’s eyes on my face.

  ‘Er, maybe later. Um, is there any breakfast left?’ I ask, hoping to change the subject. It isn’t just that I don’t want to talk about Irina’s ghost in front of everyone . . . there’s something in that intent look of Kit’s that’s making me feel very uncomfortable.

  ‘I think there are some rolls,’ Anna says vaguely.

  ‘If Josh and Kit haven’t eaten them all,’ Pepper drawls.

  I scuttle over to the bread bin and pick out a roll.

  As I sit down at the end of the table, Kit clears his throat. ‘Sounds like you guys were stranded for hours.’ His voice has a definite edge to it. ‘With just each other for company?’

  I nod, feeling a blush start to creep up my neck. I focus on spreading butter on my roll. ‘We mostly spent the afternoon telling jokes,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah and listening to music,’ Josh adds.

  ‘Right.’ Kit’s lips are pressed tightly together. What on earth is the matter with him?

  I turn to Pepper. ‘Where’s Samuel?’ I ask.

  ‘No idea,’ she says.

  ‘He wasn’t in our room when we woke up,’ Josh says.

  ‘He’s probably having another one-to-one with Mr Lomax,’ Kit adds.

  ‘But Loonymax didn’t turn up for morning meditation . . .’ Pepper drawls, ‘. . . so we don’t actually know what’s happened to him or Samuel or anyone else.’

  My chest tightens as I remember Samuel’s anxious face the last time I saw him. He said then that he had something important to tell me. I hope he’s OK.

  ‘The only person we’ve seen is Mrs Moncrieff,’ Anna adds, chewing at one of her fingernails.

  ‘Yeah, batty old bird told us to stay here, said someone would be in to talk to us soon.’ Pepper yawns.

  Silence falls. I take a bite of my roll, carefully avoiding both Kit’s and Josh’s gaze.

  ‘Hello, everyone.’ Miss Bunnock appears in the doorway.

  I turn in my seat. Miss Bunnock’s hair is tousled and she’s frowning, her expression anxious and distracted.

  ‘Where’s Samuel?’ I ask.

  ‘I’m afraid that Samuel has run away from the island,’ Miss Bunnock says.

  Everyone stares at her. I stop chewing.

  ‘What?’ Josh’s mouth gapes.

  ‘What do you mean he’s run away?’ Pepper asks. ‘How is that even possible on an island?’

  ‘He’s taken Aurora, the motorboat from the boathouse.’ Miss Bunnock purses her lips. ‘Mr Bradley found signs he’d been there, that lighter he carries with him was on the floor.’ She holds out her hand to show us.

  ‘Samuel took the boat?’ Anna asks, wide-eyed. ‘Oh my goodness.’

  ‘You mean he went to sea?’ Pepper sounds more shocked than I’d ever heard her.

  ‘During the storm?’ Kit looks incredulous.

  ‘Well, we don’t actually know when he left,’ Miss Bunnock says. ‘At first, we thought he must have gone looking for killer whales at sea again, just as he did on his first evening here. But then Mr Bradley found the Aurora missing late last night after you returned. I’m afraid there’s really no other explanation: Samuel has run off.’

  ‘Ho-ly cow,’ Pepper says with slow emphasis. ‘I had no idea Samuel had it in him to steal a boat and take it to sea in a storm. That’s not easy.’

  ‘It’s not something to be proud off,’ Miss Bunnock tuts.

  I lay down my roll, thinking of Mr Lomax’s plan to send Mr Bradley to fetch an engineer to repair the phone lines. ‘But if the boat has gone that means no one can leave the island.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Miss Bunnock says. ‘Though we’re hoping someone on the mainland will send a boat to check on us. They normally do if the telephone lines go down.’

  ‘Hoping?’ Kit asks with a frown.

  ‘The sun might be shining now, but another storm is brewing,’ Miss Bunnock explains. ‘Looks like it might be even worse than yesterday and, if the weather makes the journey treacherous, no one on the mainland will risk
sending a boat.’

  ‘So what do we do now?’ Anna asks, winding a strand of hair anxiously round her finger.

  ‘Have a musical interlude?’ Josh suggests hopefully. ‘I could play my guitar, take everyone’s mind off the situation?’

  I smile in spite of my worries. So does Pepper.

  ‘You’ll be getting on with your chores of course.’ Miss Bunnock consults the wallchart. ‘But nothing outdoors until Mr Bradley has fully assessed the storm damage outside.’ She glances at me, her expression softening into one of soothing concern. ‘How are you feeling this morning, Evie?’

  ‘Er, fine,’ I mumble, a blush heating my cheeks.

  Miss Bunnock looks around the kitchen. ‘Mmm,’ she continues, ‘we’ll have to change things around a bit as Samuel isn’t with us . . .’

  ‘Evie and I would like to work together, please,’ Kit says.

  ‘I’m afraid that isn’t possible.’ Miss Bunnock sounds distracted. ‘You and Pepper are cleaning bathrooms this morning. Anna, you can join them. Josh and Evie are on kitchen duty, but no chopping or carving; we’ve removed the knives.’ Her concerned gaze rests on me for a moment, then she looks away.

  ‘You what?’ Pepper asks.

  My blush deepens. Have the staff done that because they’re worried I might hurt myself?

  ‘Why have you taken the knives away?’ Pepper persists.

  Miss Bunnock ignores her. ‘Right then, Mrs Moncrieff will be in shortly to give you instructions.’ She sweeps off.

  Kit turns to me, his expression as full of concern as Miss Bunnock’s.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he asks. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’

  I stare at him. ‘Honestly, I’m fine. Why won’t anyone believe me?’

  ‘You know why,’ Kit says quietly. He moves closer, whispering in my ear. ‘Miss Bunnock told me about the knife.’

  ‘That had nothing to do with me,’ I whisper back. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Lomax probably planted the thing under my pillow, to make it look like I was . . . unbalanced or something.’

  ‘What are you two talking about?’ Pepper demands.

  Kit chews on his lip. ‘Guys, we need to keep an eye on Evie, make sure she’s all right today.’