Page 11 of The Path to the Last House Before the Sea

‘The new tour sounds very exciting,’ Stan continued. ‘But why did you want to talk to me about it?’

‘Because of your surname. I saw it on the Mourning Stone.’

Jack took a step forward. ‘Let me guess. You want to know if we’re related to the thief and murderer Josiah Gathergill?’

When he put it like that, Alyssa could see that it might not have been the most sensitive of subjects to bring up.

But Stan simply rolled his eyes at his son. ‘Yes, he’s an ancestor of ours. It doesn’t matter if Alyssa knows, Jack. It was a long time ago.’

‘Not so long ago that I didn’t get bullied at school about it. Even after John died.’

‘John?’ asked Alyssa, glancing at Stan, whose mouth had drawn into a tight line.

‘My brother,’ said Jack, his tone measured and low. ‘He died when he was fourteen and I was twelve.’

‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘Why would you?’ said Stan, his eyes suddenly bright. He turned to Jack. ‘I didn’t realise the bullying went on even after John’s death.’

Jack shrugged. ‘You’re right, Dad. It doesn’t matter now and I don’t live round here any more so who cares what my surname is?’

‘Perhaps Josiah wasn’t a thief and murderer anyway.’ Alyssa bit her lip, cursing herself for getting even more involved in what was obviously a touchy subject for Jack. When neither he nor Stan said anything, she added weakly, ‘Perhaps he and Charity ran away together.’

‘Because they were in love?’ Jack’s lip lifted in one corner. It looked very much like a sneer. ‘What’s your evidence in support of that theory?’

‘What’s your evidence against it?’ replied Alyssa, suddenly wearied by Jack’s black and white view of life. She’d known another man like that: an arrogant man whose unbending opinion had caused chaos. ‘Her body was never found and Josiah disappeared, too, so who’s to say what the real truth is?’

‘You’re searching for fairy-tale endings, and I can assure you that they, just like the sea dragon, are a myth.’ Jack glanced at his mobile phone, which had just beeped with a message. Deep lines scored his forehead when he frowned.

‘Is everything all right?’ asked Stan.

‘Fine,’ Jack replied, his voice clipped. ‘But I need to reply to this, so if you’ll excuse me…’

As he walked to the stairs, Alyssa pondered what it was with Gathergill men that they said ‘fine’ when things patently weren’t.

Was Josiah the same? she wondered. Did he ignore his true feelings for Charity until the two of them could deny them no longer? Or was she being a hopeless romantic, as Jack obviously believed, and love hadn’t come into it? His ancestor was simply a thief and a murderer.

‘Sorry about Jack,’ said Stan. ‘He’s not always so negative, but he’s going through a few things at the moment.’

‘That’s OK. Life can be hard sometimes.’

Stan smiled and dropped another banana into Alyssa’s bag. ‘You could always try the village library, if you’re looking for information about olden-days smuggling.’

‘Heaven’s Cove has a library?’ This was news to Alyssa, who thought she knew the village inside out by now.

‘It opened relatively recently, not far from the cultural centre,’ Stan told her, curling and uncurling his fingers as if he was checking they still worked.

‘Have you ever tried to find out more about your infamous ancestor?’

Stan shook his head. ‘I remember my great-grandad telling me that the family’s name was mud for generations after Charity disappeared. And it’s persisted down the years – Jack was bullied, as he said. You know what kids can be like. But as I get older, I do wonder if letting sleeping dogs lie is always the best policy. The truth matters, don’t you think, Alyssa?’

She nodded, even though her whole life in Heaven’s Cove was built on nothing but lies.

‘I knew Penny was unwell – very unwell,’ Stan continued, gazing into the distance, ‘but she never told me the truth about her prognosis. She was trying to protect me and Jack, you see. But it didn’t protect me at all when the truth became so blindingly obvious in her final days. It was a huge shock and, though I hate to admit it, I was angry that she’d kept it quiet. Looking back, how I could be angry with Penny for simply doing what she thought was best for all of us is beyond me. But I still wish that she’d told me earlier.’

He blinked, his eyes bright with unshed tears, and gave Alyssa a wobbly smile. ‘Anyway, enough about my family and our sad and chequered past. I wish you the best of luck with your new smuggling tour. I’m sure visitors to Heaven’s Cove will love it.’

Alyssa thought about Stan as she walked home, past the village green and the Mourning Stone with its blunt inscription. She was glad that he had his son and Magda to look after him. They could mourn the loss of Penny together.

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