Chapter Twenty-Six #2
‘Let me see that.’ I look over the document and shrug.
Niamh Iarthar married Lyle Jefferies in 1989.
Two signatures at the bottom. Nothing jumps out at me.
I pick up Callum’s mother’s birth certificate.
It’s faded, and a deep crease makes it difficult to read, but there’s one thing I clock straight away.
The name of Niamh’s father, Callum’s grandfather: Cillian .
‘Shit,’ I whisper.
‘What?’ Jason asks.
It doesn’t say Cillian Western. It says Cillian Iarthar.
But surely it couldn’t be a coincidence.
What would the chances be that Callum’s grandfather would have the same first name as Edward Western’s brother?
I think back to Mrs Parish’s house. If Callum reacted to hearing the name I didn’t notice it.
‘What is it?’ Jason asks again.
‘A woman we met in East Mill mentioned a Cillian. Edward Western’s brother. Niamh’s father was Cillian. Has Callum ever mentioned his grandfather to you?’
‘Only that he was dead. That’s all he ever knew as far as I know. He stopped asking Aideen questions after a while. She made him believe he didn’t want to hear the answers.’
A photo slips from the file in my hand and flutters to the floor.
Jason reaches down and picks it up. ‘It’s an old photo,’ he says. ‘Not sure who?’
He hands it to me. It’s black and white, and a little blurry. A man in light pants and a sweater stands by a dune, a windswept beach stretching out behind him. ‘Not Callum’s dad?’
‘No. Hang on, I think I spotted one of him earlier.’ Jason rummages through the box again. ‘This is Lyle Jefferies.’
He shows me a Polaroid of a tall man with brown hair like Callum’s and hazel-green eyes.
‘And this is his mom,’ he says, handing me another photo.
The woman in this photo is stunning, statuesque with pale skin, long, dark blonde hair, and bright eyes the colour of caramel.
‘I wonder who this is, then?’ I look at the old black and white photo of the man on the beach again. It’s difficult to make out his features.
‘There’s something on the back.’ Jason takes it from me and flips it over. ‘Here. See? You can make out E and 1967 .’
I snatch it back from him and stare at it. ‘Oh my god. I think this is Edward Western.’
‘But the guy at the house was, what, fifty? How is this him in ’67? He wouldn’t have even been born.’
‘Edward Western is eighty-two,’ I say.
‘The guy from the house? No way! Are you sure this is…’ He looks over my shoulder. ‘Shit, I think you’re right, it is him.’
We’re both silent as we let that sink in.
‘So, it’s true,’ Jason eventually says. ‘Callum is somehow related to the Westerns.’
‘What I still don’t get is the Cillian thing,’ I say. ‘If Callum’s grandfather is Edward Western’s younger brother, why are he and Niamh listed as Iarthar on Niamh’s birth certificate?’
I frown, typing Iarthar into Google on my phone, then turn it around to show Jason what I’ve found. Iarthar is Gaelic for West .
We stare at each other, then again at the old photo of Edward.
‘We know that Edward and Cillian’s father relocated to England,’ I say, ‘married there, and that’s where his children were born.
Edward and Cillian weren’t raised in East Mill.
But what if their father also changed his name.
Then when the brothers came back to the States, Edward reverted to Western, but Cillian kept the name his father gave him. ’
‘Trying to distance himself from his ancestors?’ Jason says.
‘I would, wouldn’t you?’ I look up at him. ‘That might explain why Callum’s aunt was so anti-family, if she was raised by a father who didn’t want anything to do with them. Maybe that’s where she learned not to talk about them.’
‘So Callum is a Western.’ Jason leans heavily against the wall.
‘No, Callum is an Iarthar and a Jefferies, but I have a feeling Edward Western would like to change that.’
‘When he was telling me everything, he mentioned he thought he could be psychic in some way. You don’t really think he could be, do you?’
‘He saw a spirit at the house, and if his theory about the Westerns and why they murder is true, then yeah I think he could be. My grandmother was psychic, and so am I. If his family are in any way paranormal or psychic, or whatever we want to call them, it could be in Callum’s blood too. ’ Evil is in his blood .
Jason is ashen. ‘He’s in trouble, isn’t he?’
I gather up the documents and the photo. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ he calls after me as I rush down the hall.
‘No, you’re not.’
‘I’m not letting you go to that house on your own.’
‘I don’t need you to be my hero, Jason. It’s bad enough that I have to worry about Callum. You’ll just be another distraction.’
‘Let me do something. I can’t just sit here.’
‘Okay, this is how you can help. Text Callum. Tell him you’ve spoken to me and that I’m still furious.
Tell him I never want to see him again. Tell him you understand he needs time out and you’re here for him when he’s ready.
Make it sound as if you’re not worried and no one is coming for him.
That way no one will know that I am coming for him. ’
‘But Holly—’ The elevator doors close, blocking him out.