‘Watching?’
Amelia could barely see her sister in the darkness, struggled to work out her expression. Was it amusement? Apathy? Anger?
‘On TV? Netflix? At the cinema?’
‘Anything by Stephen King.’
‘You’re braver than I am. The trailer for It Chapter Two freaked me out.’ Amelia wasn’t a lover of clowns – or masks – or anything creepy come to that. ‘There’s no way I could watch the film.’
‘You’ve always been a baby,’ Lark said, her voice dull, as though bored of their conversation.
‘You’re not wrong there.’ On cue a small animal darted across their path – and Amelia leapt inches from the ground, and grabbed her chest. ‘What the hell was that?’
Lark laughed. ‘A cat, I think. Or maybe a fox.’
Well at least she’d made her sister laugh; even if it was at her own expense.
They continued through the darkness.
‘I’m guessing you know already, I’m not going to university next year,’ Lark said.
‘Yeah, Dad told me. Will it be a gap year? Do you hope to go one day?’
‘Maybe.’ She shrugged. ‘Truth is, I’m feeling pretty naff right now.’
Amelia touched her arm. ‘We’ll get through this, Lark.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I guess so. Anyway, I’m doing some café work for now. I just feel in limbo somehow. I know it sounds awful, but I feel as if I want Mum to die so I can get the whole grieving thing over with and get on with my life.’
Amelia’s eyes widened, shocked at her sister’s harsh words.
Lark came to a stop, looking ahead. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Amelia, I don’t want Mum to die. I’d give anything to reverse the bloody cancer, for them to find a miracle cure. But it isn’t going to happen, is it? And waiting around to lose her is fucking killing me. God I sound crazy, wrong, weird … sorry.’
‘I understand.’ Amelia sort of did. They were in a bubble, limbo, knowing the worst was going to happen, knowing they couldn’t stop it. ‘But it will be far worse when she’s gone, Lark. We need to make the most of the time we have left.’
‘Are you two coming?’ Finn called to Amelia and Lark, shining his torch towards them standing in the middle of the path. ‘You need to keep up. It’s easy to get lost around here.’
Amelia grabbed Lark’s hand and they hurried towards him.
‘There was an abbey on this land long before Drummondale House was built,’ Finn said as they reached the group. ‘A grey lady roams the wood, and some have seen the apparition of a monk.’
‘This is so boring,’ Lark whispered from behind her hand. ‘I sometimes feel I don’t know Mum at all.’
‘It’s not my thing either, really.’ Amelia felt a brief connection with her sister. Though she wasn’t bored, more apprehensive and on full alert.
They walked in a huddle, before reaching the far end of the wood where they gathered on the cliff edge. The moon gave the sea that stretched out in front of them a metallic, mesmerising glow. Amelia leaned forward, and glanced down at the rough waves crashing against jagged rocks below.
‘Careful!’ Finn cried, lunging forward to grab her hand as she took another step into a mist rising from the sea. Her foot slipped on the loose stones, and there was a collective gasp.
‘You were nearly history,’ Finn said, pulling her to safety.
‘Are you OK, love?’ her dad said, stepping forward, and putting a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she nodded.
‘Tomorrow, if it’s a clear day,’ Finn carried on, as though she hadn’t almost plummeted to her death, ‘keep a lookout for bottlenose dolphins in the Moray Firth. They’re a magical sight as they play together in the ocean.’ He shone the torch out to sea. ‘There are limestone caves below us. And there’s a great project along the coast at Covesea where they’re examining the archaeology of this area.’
Amelia smiled. There was a lot more to Finn than she’d first realised.
Chapter 13
A Year Ago
Ruth
Ruth pushed her trolley full of towels down the winding path towards Bluebell Cottage, the shriek of its squeaky wheels echoing in the darkness. She’d seen her guests head off on the ghost walk. They wouldn’t be back for a while.
This cottage was the biggest dwelling on the estate, and Ruth always thought the prettiest, charming in a chocolate-box kind of way. Flowers always bloomed so much better near the ruins.
She opened the door with one of her keys. She liked that she had so many jangling on her belt; it made her feel important. She picked up four of the fluffy white towels she’d so lovingly washed earlier.
As she entered the cottage, adrenalin fizzed through her veins. It was naughty. She should have put the towels in the cottages prior to everyone’s arrival. But then if she had, she wouldn’t have a reason to enter now, would she? She wouldn’t be able to get to know her visitors. And she must get to know them.
The front door led straight into the square lounge, and Ruth reached for the light switch with her free hand, flicked the switch, and illuminated the room. She wasn’t interested in downstairs. Her guests rarely left any part of their personalities in the lower rooms.
Upstairs, she padded into the double bedroom, put on the light, and placed two towels neatly at the foot of the floral duvet. The smell of Jackson’s expensive aftershave made her feel a little giddy. He was quite the catch – Caroline was a lucky woman.
She stepped towards the wardrobe. His jeans hung on the door, and she slowly moved her hand over the fabric, before turning to observe the room.
The couple’s cases were open on the floor, Caroline’s clothes folded neatly inside one; Jackson’s spilling from the other onto the carpet. She knelt down. Caroline’s peacock-blue cashmere jumper felt soft under her fingertips; her headscarf smelt freshly washed.
Headscarf in her hand, she stood up, noticing Caroline’s chestnut-brown wig on the dresser, lying there like
