Читать книгу The Family Secret - Tracy Buchanan, Tracy Buchanan - Страница 14

‘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 leans down, picks the notepad up from the floor and lays it back on the table. She sniffs at her armpits. ‘I think I better go home for a shower.’

‘Don’t go yet,’ the girl says. She looks so lost, so scared.

‘Okay, as long as you can put up with my stinky pits,’ Amber replies.

‘You don’t smell.’

A trolley stops at the cubicle and a tired-looking porter peers in. ‘Breakfast, love.’

‘My head hurts,’ the girl says as the trolleys rolls in. ‘Can I have something for it?’

‘Don’t worry,’ the porter replies, ‘your painkillers are here.’

Amber helps the girl to sit up and pulls the makeshift table over the bed. The porter lays the breakfast on it: scrambled eggs, some streaky bacon and a sausage with a cup of tea and plastic tumbler of orange juice.

The girl wrinkles her nose at the smell, pushing the plate away. ‘Yuck. That meat smells awful.’

‘Smells fine to me. Maybe you’re a vegetarian?’

The girl nods. ‘Maybe I am!’

Amber turns to the porter. ‘Can we have a vegetarian breakfast, please?’

‘What about you?’ the girls asks Amber.

‘No food for visitors,’ the porter says. ‘There’s a café downstairs.’

‘She’s just spent the night looking after one of your patients,’ the girl says. ‘I think a coffee and a croissant or something is a small ask, right?’

Amber looks at the girl in surprise. She’s clearly a feisty one, whether she knows it or not.

‘This isn’t Starbucks,’ the porter retorts.

‘Fine, then just leave this breakfast here,’ the girl says, pushing the tray towards me. ‘You’ll only throw it away.’

The porter shakes his head in exasperation and walks away.

‘Now you’re going to tell me you’re a vegetarian too, aren’t you?’ the girl says.

Amber laughs. ‘No chance. That was impressive though.’ Amber picks a sausage up and bites into it.

‘What do you mean?’

‘How gutsy you just were. Though I think the blue streaks in your hair kind of give it away.’

The girl examines a blue strand of her hair. ‘Turns out I’m a rebellious pain in the butt, who knew?’

They both laugh.

‘Okay, how about we try to remember some stuff while we wait for your breakfast,’ Amber says. ‘Let’s focus on the lodge and the lake. Anything else? A road? Any landmarks?’

The girl thinks about it for a moment. ‘Do you have paper and a pen?’ she eventually asks.

Amber nods, digging a small notepad and pencil out of her bag. She doesn’t use it much. It’s a struggle to write. She was clearly meant to be left-handed.

The girl takes the pencil and stares at it. Then she suddenly bends her head over the pad, her blonde and blue hair trailing over the paper as she starts sketching. Over the next few minutes, Amber watches, amazed, as the girl draws the most beautiful sketch of a vast lodge overlooking a glistening lake. It wasn’t a classical type of drawing. It had a Manga feel to it.

The girl looks up when she’s finished. ‘I think I can draw.’

‘You bloody well can,’ Amber says with a laugh. ‘Let’s have a proper look. Is this the lodge you dreamt of?’

The girl nods as she hands the drawing over and Amber examines it. The lodge is made from wood with large windows that reflect the icy lake before it. A veranda leads out into it and behind the lodge are snow-topped mountains and hints of a forest. A bird glides over the lake, its wings wide and feathery.

‘I don’t remember the details,’ the girl remarks. ‘I improvised a few bits. I remember the bird in my dream though.’

‘There was a drawing of a bird like this in the notepad,’ Amber says, opening the notepad at the right page. ‘A ptarmigan.’

The girl looks over her shoulder at the page. ‘Oh, yes.’ She seems disappointed. ‘The dream probably means nothing then. I must’ve copied the bird from this notepad.’

‘Don’t discount it straight away. It’s no coincidence you have this notepad. Your dream, and this drawing, may well be based on reality. Your reality.’

‘Do you think the drawing could help then?’ the girl asks, looking hopeful.

‘Well, there are a lot of lodges overlooking lakes in the country, but who knows? This is certainly better than nothing. I’ll take a photo,’ Amber says, getting her phone out and taking a quick snap of the drawing before handing it back to the girl. ‘I can then take it home with me and do some searching on the net.’

‘Vegetarian breakfast,’ a bored voice calls out. The porter appears, lays the new breakfast – a sorry-looking Quorn sausage – on the table and slams down a coffee, some of it spilling over the sides. ‘Coffee for you too.’ Then he walks off.

Amber bursts out laughing, expecting the girl to laugh too but instead she’s staring at her drawing, a furrow in her brow.

‘What’s wrong?’ Amber ask her.

The girl looks up, eyes filled with tears. ‘Something bad happened there. Something … really bad. I just felt it as I was looking at the photo. But I can’t grasp what happened,’ she adds in frustration.

A shiver runs down Amber’s back. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ she says, trying to reassure the girl. ‘Probably just this whole situation making you think like that.’

The girl nods but doesn’t look convinced. As Amber watches her half-heartedly dig her fork into the sausage, she makes a promise to herself: she’ll do everything she can to get this girl safely home.

Half an hour later, Amber is walking towards her flat. She’s promised the girl she’d be back in time for the police visit. She’d leave the shop closed today. It wasn’t like anything would be sold anyway and the painting would just need to be delayed a few hours. As she goes to put her key in the door, her phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out and sees it’s her mum.

‘Hi, Mum,’ she says as she puts it to her ear, hovering it between her neck and shoulder as she lets herself into the main part of the block of flats she lives in. It’s a three-storey building enclosing a pretty garden. There’s a nice feel there, close enough to the sea to hear it, but far enough from town to avoid the noise from the late-night pubs. Amber had moved in three months after she and Jasper had split up, and that was ten years ago now. He’d insisted she stay in the house they’d shared together, but she hadn’t been able to face it. Without Katy, it was just a black hole of grief and painful memories. The flat meant a clean start, a complete contrast to the busy, bright family home they’d had. Walls painted white, a white kitchen, minimal furniture.

‘I tried calling you,’ Rita says. ‘You haven’t picked up!’

‘I’ve been at the hospital.’

‘With the girl?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘She’s been at the hospital, Viv,’ Rita calls out. ‘With the girl!’

‘Wonderful!’ Amber hears her aunt declare in the background.

Amber rolls her eyes as she jogs up the stairs.

‘How is she?’ Rita asks.

‘Getting there. The police are visiting today.’

‘Will you stay with her for that? She’ll be terrified, the poor thing.’

‘What’s happened?’ Amber hears Viv ask in the background.

‘Just the police visiting, Viv,’ Rita replies.

‘Just put me on speakerphone, will you, Mum?’ Amber says, frustrated as she lets herself into her flat. ‘We might get through this conversation by the end of the day that way.’

There’s the sound of buttons being pressed.

‘Hello, Amber, love, it’s your aunt Viv.’ Her aunt is talking in a loud and slow voice.

‘Really? I had no idea,’ Amber says as she walks to her bedroom and kicks her shoes off.

‘Honestly, your girl and her sarcasm,’ Viv tuts. ‘So, what’s happening then?’

‘I’m just having a shower then going back to the hospital,’ Amber says.

‘Do you want us to bring anything?’ Rita asks.

‘Ergh, no, I don’t think you two barging around the hospital will do her any good,’ Amber says.

‘We found her too!’ Viv declares.

‘Honestly, Viv, she’s not a prize,’ Rita says.

The two women start arguing and Amber blocks it out as she pulls a towel from the immersion cupboard. ‘Finished now?’ she asks her mum and aunt. They both grow silent. ‘Good. There is a favour you can do for me, actually. Can you go to the shop and stick a notice on the front? Something like Closed for the day.’

‘You never close it,’ her mum says in surprise.

‘And what about the painting?’ Viv chimes in. ‘One of the huts is half-red!’

‘It’ll just have to wait,’ Amber replies. ‘Hopefully the girl’s family will come for her soon, especially with the police getting involved.’

‘Don’t wear yourself out,’ Rita says.

‘Yes, make sure you come home to sleep tonight,’ Viv adds.

‘And eat,’ Rita insists. ‘In fact, why don’t you come over for dinner?’

Amber starts undressing and walks into her bathroom. ‘I’ll see,’ she shouts through to the bedroom. She hears the two sisters whispering. ‘What are you two whispering about?’ she asks.

‘Have you seen Jasper at the hospital?’ Rita asks quietly.

Amber pauses. ‘He does work there, so yes.’

‘And …?’ Viv asks.

‘And what?’ Amber asks, trying to make her tone flat.

‘Well …’ her mum replies. Amber knows what she’s desperate to ask: Did they talk? Was there a connection? Will they get remarried? Her mum and aunt adored Jasper and were devastated when they divorced. It was only recently they seemed to give up hope of them ever getting back together. A small thing like this could bring all that misguided hope back.

‘He just passed by, we said hi,’ Amber lies. ‘Look, I need to go now. Phones don’t work well in showers. I’ll call you later.’

‘Okay, love,’ Rita says. ‘You take care, all right?’

‘Will do.’ Amber hangs up then stands quiet for a few moments. She catches sight of her naked body in the mirror. The curve of her plump tummy. The sag of her heavy breasts. She smoothes her fingers over her thighs, feeling the cellulite. Then her fingers creep up to find the scar from her c-section. Her eyes glisten with tears and she thinks of the way Jasper had looked at her in the lift. ‘Oh, Jasper,’ she whispers to herself.

An hour later, she’s back at the hospital. The girl is sitting up in bed, staring out of the window. Her eyes light up when she sees Amber.

‘I brought some stuff,’ Amber says, laying a large shopping bag on the chair. ‘First this,’ she says, pulling an A4 plain paper pad out with a pencil set.

The girl smiles. ‘Thank you.’

‘And after your wonderful experience at breakfast, I thought you might fancy a break from hospital food. Plus,’ she says as she unpacks the food items she bought on the way, ‘I thought we could turn it into a bit of a memory game. I read once that taste can trigger memories.’

The girl’s face lights up even more as she takes in the large chocolate bar laid on her table. ‘I like this idea.’

‘Me too, mainly because it means I get to join in,’ Amber says with a wink. ‘Let’s start with this,’ she says, holding up a jar of Marmite.

‘Marmite,’ the girl says. ‘I think I know this.’

‘But do you like it? That is the question.’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Only one way to find out,’ Amber says, opening the jar and handing the girl a spoon. ‘I find whether someone like or dislikes Marmite is a good personality barometer.’ The girl takes the spoon, scoops a small amount out and tentatively brings it to her mouth. She pulls a face as she tastes it. ‘Disgusting.’

‘Yes, I knew it! It’s foul, isn’t it? My aunt loves it and used to force-feed it to me as a child in the hope I’d change my mind. I think it’s the devil’s food … so let’s save it for the porter.’

The girl giggles.

‘Right, chocolate next,’ Amber says, pointing to the chocolate bar.

‘I have to like this. I kind of know I do,’ the girl says as she unwraps it.

‘Who doesn’t?’

The girl breaks it in half and offers Amber the other half. Amber takes it, smiling as they both take bites, saying ‘Mmmmm’ at the same time. Over the next ten minutes, they try different foods from salt and vinegar crisps – a yes from the girl – to liquorice – a determined no.

‘As it’s nearly Christmas,’ Amber says, ‘I thought we’d try some of this too.’

She reaches into her bag for the item she’d been saving for last, a large gingerbread man. She remembers buying one for Katy the Christmas before she passed away. They’d walked around the annual fair hand-in-hand, cheeks rosy from the cold, as Katy nibbled on it. Amber had seen one as she’d been walking to the hospital earlier and knew she had to get it for the girl.

The girl turns it over in her hands, brow furrowed as she examines it. ‘I think I’ve had one of these before.’ She places it against her chest and closes her eyes. ‘Yes, I had one around my neck once, bigger than this. There was a red ribbon through it and I could lift it to my mouth whenever I fancied a bite.’ She opens the cellophane wrapping, deep in her memories as she lifts the biscuit to her mouth. She bites into it and gently chews.

Then her eyes suddenly dart open and she throws the biscuit away.

‘What’s wrong?’ Amber asks.

‘Something bad happened when I had this,’ the girls says in a trembling voice. ‘It happened at the lodge,’ she continues, words stumbling over one another. ‘A man with dark hair, a beard. I’m crying and … and I’m so scared.’ Her breathing grows heavier, her fingers clutching her covers. Amber sits close to her, putting her arm around the girl’s trembling shoulders. ‘We’re reaching out to each other and someone’s screaming,’ the girl continues. ‘And he’s saying, “Lumin, Lumin”.’ The girl looks at Amber with wide eyes. ‘Is that my name, Lumin?’

‘Sounds like it is,’ Amber whispers. She pulls the girl close as she begins to cry.

‘What’s happening in here?’ Amber looks up to see the nurse Jasper knows at the cubicle curtains.

‘She’s just remembering things,’ Amber says as she strokes the girl’s hair. ‘We think her name might be Lumin. It’s an unusual name, so it might help us find out who she is …’

‘What’s all this?’ the nurse asks, surveying all the food Amber brought in.

‘I was trying to help her remember,’ Amber says. ‘And the food’s not exactly great here for a vegetarian,’ she adds.

The nurse picks up the packet of cashew nuts. ‘Are you crazy? How do we know the girl isn’t allergic to nuts?’

‘She isn’t! She’s fine. And can we stop calling her girl now her name might be Lumin?’

‘Might be,’ the nurse says. ‘You can not bring in food like this in. We know nothing about Lumin nor her allergies. It’s too much of a risk.’

Lumin wipes her tears away. ‘Amber’s only trying to help.’

‘Well, it’s not her job. It’s mine,’ the nurse says, crossing her arms.

Amber and the nurse hold each other’s gaze for a moment before the nurse breaks it. ‘Anyway, the police are here. You need to go, Miss Caulfield,’ she says, seeming to take pleasure in using Amber’s maiden name. ‘We can take over from here.’

‘I don’t want her to go,’ Lumin says, grasping at Amber’s hand.

‘I’ll just go to the café,’ Amber says to her. ‘I’ll be up as soon as the interview is over. It will be fine,’ she adds, forcing a smile. ‘The police know how to deal with things like this. I bet you remember even more things after you talk to them.’ Amber squeezes her hand then walks out, the nurse giving her daggers as she leaves. What is her problem?

As Amber walks through the ward, a smartly dressed man and woman approach her.

‘Amber Caulfield?’ the man asks.

‘Yes.’

‘I’m Detective King and this is Detective Matthews. We’re investigating the girl you found on the beach. Any chance of grabbing a word after we’ve spoken to her?’

‘Of course. I’ll wait in the café downstairs.’

‘Perfect. See you there.’

Amber watches them walk towards Lumin’s cubicle and catches a glimpse of Lumin’s fearful eyes as they part the curtains. Amber wishes she could stay in there with her. But then feels foolish for even thinking it. What right does she have? She’s not her mother.

I’m not anyone’s mother, she thinks.

She walks down to the café feeling sullen, mumbles her order and carries her coffee back to a small table.

‘Hello again.’ She looks up to see Jasper smiling down at her, his rucksack over his shoulder … the same rucksack he used for work when they were married. ‘You’re becoming a bit of a regular visitor to the hospital. How’s the girl?’

‘Lumin. She’s fine.’

His face lights up. ‘She remembered her name?’

Amber nods. ‘I did a sort of memory thing with her. Brought in lots of different foods to see if they might act as a trigger.’

Jasper laughs. ‘God, you’re clever.’

‘Your nurse friend didn’t seem to think so. She had a right go at me.’

‘Mind if I join you?’ he asks, ignoring her reference to the nurse. ‘I just finished my shift and need a coffee.’

Amber shrugs. ‘Sure.’

He shoves his rucksack on the floor. ‘Another coffee?’ he asks. ‘Or how about a cinnamon muffin? I remember how much you liked those.’

‘No, thanks, already had breakfast courtesy of the NHS.’

He smiles to himself. ‘You’re lucky, visitors aren’t usually allowed.’

‘It was leftover. Lumin is a vegetarian so I got to eat the sausage.’

‘Another thing you’ve found out. You’d make a good detective.’

Amber watches him as he goes to the counter, all tall and gangly and handsome. He hasn’t changed. She wonders if she has. What does he see when he looks at her? A slightly more overweight, more cynical, more tired version of the woman he fell in love with?

He comes back with his coffee and sits down.

‘When are the police visiting?’ he asks.

‘Now,’ Amber replies.

‘That’s why you’re biting your nails like crazy,’ he says, gesturing towards her fingertips.

She nods, tucking her right hand under her armpits.

‘She’ll be fine,’ he says.

‘I know. She was just a little bit distressed before they turned up.’

Amber tells him about the memory Lumin had and his brow furrows. ‘Maybe she’s a runaway,’ he says. ‘That would explain why nobody knows her here.’

‘Maybe.’ Amber puts her hand to her mouth again, chewing at her nails.

‘She’s really got to you, hasn’t she?’

Amber looks up at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you care for her. It’s good.’ He pauses a moment, looking down into his coffee. Then he looks back up at Amber with sad eyes. ‘Maybe you’re projecting Katy onto her. She would have been fifteen this year.’

Amber feels herself tense. Why was he always so bloody blunt? ‘No, I’m not!’

He reaches across, placing his hand on hers. ‘There’s nothing wrong with admitting it, Amber. Nothing wrong with remembering. I know it still hurts, but it’s been ten years.’

Amber moves her hand out from under his. ‘This has nothing to do with Katy.’

‘Really? I worry about you. I worry you still keep it all wound up inside.’

She laughs. ‘Do you realise how patronising you sound? I’m doing perfectly well, thanks.’

‘So you feel you’ve moved on, do you?’

Her mouth drops open. ‘Moved on? From the death of my child? Is that even possible? Anyway,’ she adds, gesturing around her and making an effort to lower her voice, ‘do explain to me how you’ve moved on. You’re still working all the hours God sends at this place. You even still have that same old rucksack,’ she adds, pointing to his bag.

‘Sure, some things remain the same,’ he says calmly. ‘But I’ve moved away. I even went travelling for a few weeks last year. Have you been anywhere?’

‘Travelling, hey?’ Amber says. ‘Wouldn’t happen to be with the busty nurse from the children’s ward, would it? If that’s your idea of moving on then fine, I really don’t care,’ she says, leaning back and folding her arms. ‘I’ve had my fair share of dates.’

Jasper pinches his lips together. ‘Nothing’s going on with Jen.’ He meets her gaze. ‘Truth is, I never quite got over you. Kinda puts women off, hankering after your ex.’

Amber feels her cheeks flush, all the old feelings rushing back. ‘Don’t say that.’

Jasper opens his mouth to say something else but a shadow falls across them. They both look up to see Detective King standing over them, slightly out of breath. ‘Can you come up, Miss Caulfield? Lumin’s a bit …’ He pauses. ‘She’s a bit distressed and said she won’t calm down until she sees you.’

Amber quickly stands and Jasper grabs her arm. ‘She’s not Katy,’ he says softly.

‘I know,’ Amber hisses. ‘Jesus.’ She shrugs his hand off then follows the officer to the lift.

Lumin is sitting scrunched up in the corner of her bed, her head to her knees. Magazines are scattered on the floor and a cup of tea has been overturned, the brown liquid spilling over the side table. Lumin’s bed covers are thrown to the side and Amber can see her bare feet, the remnants of blue nail varnish on her toes. It strikes Amber that she hadn’t noticed that before. It reveals a life before this – a carefree life that had Lumin painting her nails with a smile on her face.