Page 63 of Sanctuary at MacLeod's Cove
She laid her head back on the pillow as she absorbed every detail of her little boy’s face. Did he really see Alistair, or only a figment that represented Alistair and all the fear that his father had filled him with?
She had no way of knowing. Despite what it would mean about the depths of Liam’s fears, she desperately wanted to believe that he’d conjured up the image of his father in his imagination. Because the reality of Alistair appearing didn’t bear thinking about. As Sam said, Liam had a vivid imagination, and it had been a dark night. People sometimes strayed into their garden by mistake from the beach. Sometimes the most likely explanations were the true ones. But what if he were here?
She slipped out of bed and went back to her room, tentatively pulling the curtains aside and looking out onto the street below. Apart from a woman walking her dog, the street was empty, normal. Some children were playing in the front garden of the house opposite, their shouts and laughter soothing her fears. She couldn’t imagine Alistair out of his environment — he was British to the core and had always refused to visit ‘the colonies’. Plus, he was proud. She’d banked on him enjoying what she’d left for him, and then forgetting about her, creating a new life in which she didn’t exist.
But what if she’d banked wrong?
And then there was Sam. Somehow, without her realising, she’d slipped into an emotional intimacy with him with a speed which took her breath away. Truth was, she’d let down her guard because she’d thought she’d left her past behind. She’d thought wrong. And if Alistair were here — and he discovered their new friendship — then Sam would be at risk too.
But it was Liam who was her chief concern. She didn’t believe Alistair would hurt him, but he would use him if he thought it would hurt her. She had to protect him however she could. If that meant moving away, she’d do it. If that meant keeping him and her locked away at MacLeod’s Cottage, she’d do it. But not if it were only shadows and phantoms, the residual smoke of fears which was haunting her. Because she’d never be free then. She had to find out for sure whether Alistair had appeared outside the house last night.
She could hear sounds coming from the kitchen, so she quickly dressed and went downstairs. The sight that greeted her wasn’t one she’d expected. Sam’s duvet and pillow had been tidily folded and put to one side, and there was a smell of bacon and coffee in the air.
Sam looked around as soon as she closed the door.
‘Liam OK?’
‘Yes, thank goodness. He’s still sound asleep. Poor kid was exhausted.’
Sam wiped his hands on a tea-towel and leaned back against the kitchen bench. ‘And terrified of his father.’
‘Alistair… well, he never hit Liam, just…’
Sam swore under his breath and closed his eyes. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he said, his fingers gripping the kitchen counter as if his life depended on it. ‘I can’t know.’
‘I wanted you to know that Liam doesn’t bear any physical scars, only emotional ones. And I’m scared they’ll be harder to heal.’
‘Especially if he keeps thinking he sees his father through the window.’
Jen poured herself a cup of coffee. ‘Do you think he did?’
He looked outside. It was the same window Liam claimed to have seen his father through. ‘I don’t know. But it seems pretty odd to me. I mean, why would he creep up on the house? Why wouldn’t he come directly to?—’
‘Me,’ finished Jen. ‘If he was around the house yesterday, he would have seen me.’
‘And me,’ said Sam.
‘Which would have put him off.’
‘It depends on what he was after.’
‘Oh, I know that. Me.’
‘No flights landed yesterday that had connections to the UK. I checked. If it were him, then he either took his time coming here or he’s been around for a few days. Do you think it’s possible he’s worked out where you are?’
‘He probably guessed I’d come home, but I’d made sure I’d destroyed or deleted any reference to contact details on his phone and amongst our papers. No doubt he could have found out, but he’d have had to make an effort to do that. And Alistair doesn’t much like making an effort.’
‘Then maybe he wasn’t here. Maybe it was the outside umbrella caught by the wind and moonlight.’
She followed his gaze. It was true; the umbrella stood upright and unmoving in the morning’s stillness. A mobile hung from the umbrella. Its central large, flat shell surrounded by strings of smaller shells like hair, was distinctly un-mobile now. But in last night’s breeze? The whole thing could have come alive, the shells catching the moonlight.
She bit her lip. ‘Maybe. I don’t know what to do. What do you think, Sam? Should I take Liam and leave, or should we stay?’
‘I think you take the middle path. Stay, but be vigilant. We’ll let the cops know, and I’ll be around more, especially in the next few days. But until you know for sure, I don’t think you should leave. You’ll always be running if you do, which won’t be good for Liam, he’s only just settling. And you won’t be any safer. If Alistair travelled across the world to find you, then he’ll find you again.’
Sam’s words sent a chill down her spine. But he spoke the truth.
‘I’ll stay. Can I ask you one thing? ‘
