Page 15 of Coming Home to Winter Island
‘Actually, I’m having some specialist voice training,’ I lie quickly.
‘Over Christmas? But isn’t it your busiest time? I mean, evenI’min demand! But I bet I could get you on the cruise ships if you needed the work.’
‘No, everything’s fine.’ I decide not to tell her about the problems with my voice. She’d only worry. It’s about all she does worry about. My voice and where she’s going to be drinking her next gin and tonic.
‘Mum, tell me about Hector, Dad’s dad.’
‘What? Oh, I don’t even know if he’s still alive. Really, it was such a long time ago. Why do you want to know about him all of sudden? Some things are best left in the past, Ruby. No good ever comes of trying to dig them up. It was all such a long time ago.’
I sigh and wonder whether to tell her where I am. I go to open my mouth and then my mum says to someone in the background, ‘Coming, darling...Ruby, I have to go. My lift back to the ship is here.’ I think about the cruise liner she’s about to board and the ferry I’ll be leaving on. ‘Look, if you want to join me, you know you can. I’ll text you my itinerary for the next month. Bye, darling. Lovely to hear from you!’
I press the end call button and look at a flock of birds coming in to settle on the beach. I have no idea what they are, but I stand and stare at them. It would have been lovely to spend holidays here, I think, learning about birds. And I can’t help but wonder why I was never a part of it, why I was never wanted here.
I stop myself in my tracks. That sounds like a dollop of self-pity, Ruby Mac, I tell myself. And I don’t have time for that! I give myself a quick talking-to. I have made my own life, and I will continue to do so. It’s a good life, and I don’t need any of this. But right now, I need to find out what Lachlan is doing here and how to get him to leave. Maybe Hector can throw some light on the matter, I think, and I wander slowly back to the house, breathing deeply with every step, finding the air filling my senses as I do.
‘It’s in here somewhere,’ I can hear Hector saying. ‘Got to be in the house somewhere. Got to keep the secret...’
I slip out of the boots and back into the soggy shoes with a grimace. One of the dogs barks. I follow the sound of Hector’s voice down the hall and into one of the front rooms, clearly unused and not heated. He’s still talking, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s the dogs he’s addressing. There are papers all over the floor, the cupboard doors on one side of the fireplace are flung open and Hector is attempting to climb onto a chair, balancing his crutch in one hand. The dog barks again, letting me know she needs assistance with her charge.
‘Hector!’ I say. He turns to look at me and nearly topples backwards. I step forward and put out my hands instinctively to steady him.
‘Ah, there you are!’ he says, and the dogs lie down, happy, it seems, that help is close at hand. I look at his face, finding the similarity to my dad disarming and unsettling.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask, glancing around at the emptied cupboards.
‘Looking!’ he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
‘Looking for what? Is it something I can help with?’
He regards me blankly, and I get the feeling he’s forgotten what he’s searching for.
‘I’ll know it when I find it,’ he says finally with sadness in his eyes. ‘I know it’s here in the house.’
‘Why don’t you come and sit by the fire?’ I say. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ I wonder suddenly what might have happened if I hadn’t come in. What if he had fallen again?
I lead him into the big room at the back of the house and the dogs follow. Once Hector is settled by the window overlooking the bay, I go into the kitchen. On the side is a fresh batch of what look like cheese scones. Lots of them. It seems Lachlan has made himself very much at home here. I remember watching him pull the kettle onto the hot plate, and do the same. I make the tea and spread a cheese scone with butter from the dish on the table.
I can’t just leave knowing this guy is here, living rent free, I assume. There’s been no mention of any financial arrangement. But then there’s been very little mention of anything. I still have no idea what he’s doing here. I don’t even know his surname. Just that he’s a friend of the family and that he’s refusing to move out, despite me explaining that it’s in Hector’s best interests. And what is he doing in that shed? He’s clearly got an agenda, and he’s not telling me! Until he goes, Hector can’t get into the care home. Lachlan needs to find somewhere else to live...no matter how good his cheese scones are, I think, picking at the soft yellow crumbs.
Back in the living room, I put the tea and scone on the table next to Hector’s chair.
‘Hector,’ I begin, ‘what exactly do you know about Lachlan?’
He looks at me, and once again my heart twists as I see my dad in his eyes.
‘Lachlan?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Who is he and what’s he doing here?’
Hector picks up the scone and takes a bite. To the dogs’ delight, crumbs tumble down his front.
‘Lachlan, you say?’
‘Yes,’ I smile.
‘Who’s Lachlan?’ he asks, and I sigh as realisation washes over me. The house can’t be sold until Lachlan leaves. And I can’t leave until he does. I have to find out what he’s up to, and think of a way of getting him to go.
Chapter Eight
