Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Luke
S ix o’clock on a Sunday morning was not a time to be awake. He couldn’t shake the fact that Freya was getting married. They’d been friends forever. Explored the island, discovering all its mysteries. It was odd to think she’d bonded with someone else and not told him. Luke reasoned he’d been away for most of the last nine years, and what right he had that Freya would no longer be there whenever he knocked on her door.
Seeing the ring on her finger made him feel differently, like a curtain swooshed back, or a bulb changed to a higher wattage.
Luke didn’t know what the difference was, but something shifted from thinking of Freya as the girl he grew up with to a woman who had a career and was seeing a man.
He did suspect she was making it up when he called on her the previous day, but when Heidi was so clearly hurt that she hadn’t been told, it was evident it was true. Heidi wasn’t that good an actress. He suspected Erica could pull it off but not Heidi.
Now he was tossing and turning all night, wanting to know who Freya had fallen in love with.
They’d agreed to meet at the back of his cottage at ten. Another four hours to wile away until he showed her what mystery they needed to uncover. He couldn’t knock on Jason’s door because he was still in the honeymoon phase. He couldn’t knock on Archer’s door because he didn’t want to disturb Erica’s sleep when she was six months pregnant with their first child.
Daisy was still on the mainland doing work experience at an accountant’s office Erica had hooked her up with. It was the firm she used and pulled a few strings to get Daisy proper experience and jump the queue. The name Erica Taylor could sway her accountant to fit Daisy in for six months. I didn’t want to call her as she was too far away.
Whenever Luke felt lonely when his siblings were busy, he always had Freya.
Moping in bed wasn’t Luke’s style. Instead, he showered and left his cottage to head to Edward Hall. Archer had told him that the elite team were doing endurance tests and would be working out. Luke wanted to see if he could work out who they were. Which branch of the military or special forces. Hell, he was plain curious and wanted to see what was so secretive they weren’t allowed to know.
Luke rounded the corner of Edward Hall and jogged up the side stone steps to get up onto the wide verandah at the back of the hall. He stopped dead when he saw a lone figure slumped in a blow-up chair covered in a duvet. This didn’t look like an elite fighter, and he would know that hair anywhere.
Walking as quietly as he could up to the back of the chair, he observed the group of men strip off their shorts and vests and then run across the lawn to the path leading down to the beach. Freya hadn’t moved in her seat after they disappeared from sight. He came to her side and crouched down when he saw she was fast asleep. Only her nose was peeking out. The hood of the jumper she had been wearing last night was pulled down over her eyes, and the duvet covered her completely.
Luke leaned in and kissed her nose.
They’d shared platonic kisses to the cheek, head and forehead for as long as he could remember. Now he thought if she belonged to another man, maybe he should stop touching her. He knew if Freya was his, he would be having a quiet conversation with any man who touched their lips to her, no matter how platonic it was.
If Freya was his? That sounded strange to say, but his heart warmed at the thought.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Luke said quietly.
Freya moaned, jolted her head from side to side and then pushed back the hood of her jumper with the hand that had the diamond. In the morning light, it sparkled. Did she really like an ostentatious ring like that?
She blinked a few times, looked across the lawns, and then at Luke.
“Hey, Luke. What are you doing here?”
“Well, I live just over there,” he said, pointing to the cottages. “What are you doing here?”
Freya sat up, then fell to the side, like the blow-up chair was a bouncy castle. Luke watched her roll off and slowly stand, dropping the duvet to the side.
“Oh crap, I missed them,” Freya crowed, flapping her arms to the side .
“Missed who?”
“The hot men,” she said, pointing to the empty lawns.
“Why would you get up at dawn? Blow up a floating device, and drag a duvet to watch hot men exercise when you’re engaged?”
He tilted her head as he watched the blood drain from her face. Freya wasn’t a slouchy outfit kinda girl. Under her hoodie, she wore yellow loose-fitting cotton trousers and white lace-up plimsolls.
Freya’s face went pale, and she looked to her ring, then the lawn and then back at Luke. Not a word came from her lips.
He was back to thinking she had made him up. Now he wanted to know why.
“Is your fiancé one of them?” Luke pointed to the lawns.
“I should go,” Freya said, gathering her duvet under one arm and grabbing the inflatable with the other. “I’ll see you at ten.”
Luke laughed as she dragged everything across the flagstones and down the steps, including her body. He could hear the bumps of the chair as she trudged down and out of sight. He sauntered across to the low wall to watch her walk across the dew-soaked lawn towards the cottages where the buggy was probably parked. How she was going to get the inflatable home would be interesting. But then he could see her walk to Jason and Heidi’s place and toss it into their back patio area.
Freya was lying. How much fun could he have making her squirm?
He spent the next few hours plotting to be evil to get her to admit she was making up a fiancé, and by the time ten o’clock rolled around, he was ready.
Luke had been sitting on the low wall in Archer’s patio area, telling his brothers that he knew Freya was lying. They were sceptical.
“Tell me again why you think she’s lying?” Jason asked.
“We tell each other everything,” Luke replied confidently. “She wants me to believe she has found a man, dated him, fallen in love and now planning to marry the guy, and it’s news to her best friend. Nope, don’t buy it.”
“And if you’re wrong and she has been secretly dating someone because this town is so small, she would be under a microscope and would prefer to keep it all secret?”
“The thing about liars is they forget the lies they’ve told. I saw her three months ago. So she must have done all the schmoozing in the last two and a half months. Nope. Nope. Nope.”
Archer and Jason stared at Luke like he’d lost his mind.
“Why do you care?” Archer asked.
Luke stood back and turned his cheek like he’d been slapped. “I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do. It’s sweet. Listen, we need to focus on something else. You’re back, and we need to have a handover of sorts. When will you be free of torturing Freya?” Archer asked.
“Two hours, maybe less if she’s not talkative,” Luke replied and slouched onto the wall at the rear of Archer’s cottage.
Both his brothers lounged on the sofa with matching smirks. Jason looked at Archer, and Archer nodded back, grinning.
“What?” Luke asked, looking at one and then the other.
“Nothing, brother. I’ll see you in a few hours. ”
“Hey,” Freya said as she trudged along the grass to Luke’s left.
“Hey, why are you coming from that direction?” Luke asked.
“Because, genius, you said to meet you at ten outside the back of your cottage. Here you are outside Archer’s back door. Plus, why is the back of your cottage empty of anything to sit on. Even Jason’s place has comfy chairs.”
“I think you need a nap,” Luke said.
“We’re going. See you later,” Jason said and sidled past Luke.
Archer followed. They both waved at Freya as they speed walked across the lawn to a minimum safe distance.
Pussies.
“I’m sorry, I’m pissy. I haven’t had a lot of sleep. Lead on to the mystery puzzle for us to solve,” Freya said.
“That’s the spirit,” Luke said, holding out his hand.
Freya looked at his hand and lifted hers to take it, but he dropped it.
“Ah, probably shouldn’t do that now you’re someone else’s. Let’s take a walk.”
Freya frowned, looking at her hand to his and then back to hers.
“We can’t hold hands? We always hold hands. We especially hold hands when we’re on an adventure. And hey, you didn’t kiss my head when I arrived.”
“You belong to someone else now. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to touch you without speaking to him first. Ya know? Ask his permission, see how he feels about me holding your hand and kissing your temple. I feel bad enough that I kissed your nose to wake you up this morning.”
“You did? ”
“Yeah, you were asleep, so I don’t think that counts.”
Luke held back his laugh at the scowl Freya was throwing him.
“Fine, well, don’t expect me to save you if you fall off the cliff like last time. You’re on your own.”
“Or,” Luke said, elongating the word, giving her a side glance. “We could go see him, say hello, get to know each other.”
Luke used his hands like he was shaking maracas, striding beside her as she took off across the lawn. He hadn’t told her she was going in the wrong direction. He was having way too much fun pressing her irritated buttons. This was a new Freya.
“He’s away,” she said, stomping across the grass with her arms folded.
The short ponytail bobbed as she strode along. Luke zipped in front of her when they got to the fifth cottage in the row of houses his siblings lived in and held up his hands, careful not to touch her. They were at the same height as her breasts. He’d never paid that much attention to them before, but her deep breathing made his eyes zero in. Her white gipsy top showed a flash of cleavage. She was still in her yellow cotton trousers and white plimsolls.
“Where?” Luke asked.
“The mainland.”
“Doing what?”
“Seeing friends.”
“He has friends on the mainland?”
“I don’t grill him with twenty questions like some people do. He’s not here. You can’t meet him. If I have my way, ever.”
This time Luke burst out laughing. This was going to be fun. She was getting red in the face as her eyes darted about, no doubt thinking about what to make up about him .
“All right, fire breather, I’ll stop with the questions for now. We need to head up to the graveyard.”
“That’s the other direction.”
“I know,” Luke said with enthusiasm.
“Yet here we are all the way over here.” Freya sounded like she was ready to hit something.
“You were determined to come this way, and it’s not like I could anchor onto your arm. That’s against the rules.”
“They’re your rules, and they’re stupid. You could have said words.”
“I could’ve.”
They strode across the lawns behind the lodges, through the gap in the twelve feet high hedges and across the lawns of Edward Hall. There wasn’t an elite military type in sight. Luke was grateful because he already had to contend with Freya insisting she was engaged while ogling the men as they exercised.
Now came the dilemma. Did they cross the back of Turner Hall, passing the swimming pool and then up to the gravesite, or did they go the long way around, which would take them around the front of the manor house? Either way, he could get spotted by Cynthia.
“If we run, and she yells at us, we can ignore her,” Freya said, grabbing his hand and crouching to make a run for it.
He curled his fingers around her hand and squeezed. Her fake fiancé would have to cope. He was touching her.
“All right. I hope you’ve still been working out because we’re going to need to run fast.”
“I’m good, Luke,” she said, giving him a playful grin. “Fit as a fiddle, endurance to last all activities.”
Was she flirting?
“I’m sure your fiancé is delighted.”
Luke then got a grimace followed by a growl. She dropped her hand and ran away across the perimeter of Turner Hall near the fence and trees overlooking the beach. He raced after her, following her laughter as she pulled the band out of her ponytail and shook her hair out. Freya then lengthened her stride. His legs were longer, and they were running side by side until they passed the swimming pool. They then passed the conservatory and then through the gap in the trees on the other side.
He didn’t hear his aunt call out for him.
They were safe.
Slowing down to a jog and then a fast walk to then a stroll through the trees, he again took Freya’s hand, and she didn’t pull away. They caught their breath rather than spoke as they continued through the forest and out the other side.
The gravesite had all his ancestors buried in the same area. It looked like any gravesite, with lopsided gravestones, faded lettering and overgrown weeds. He had never known the site to be well kept. It seemed anyone dead was long forgotten. There were three exceptions. His father’s plot, because one of his brothers took care of it and the other two he was about to reveal to Freya.
When they reached the two plain headstones, Luke stopped and hauled Freya around in a wide circle until she came to his side. He slung his arm around her neck and pointed to the gravestones with his other hand.
“What, the fuck, are these?” he clipped.
Freya stepped forward and out of his hold to take a closer look. When that didn’t work, she dropped to her knees and leaned over the plot without kneeling on it.
“When did they arrive?” she asked.
“No idea. They weren’t there when we buried Dad, but then I haven’t been back for nine years. I didn’t notice them until we came to salute Dad not long ago. ”
“Who do you think is buried here? The plots are well-tended. Someone must care about them. The headstones are a bit plain, though. Like someone doesn’t want them noticed. Why are they far away from anyone else?”
“All great questions,” Luke pointed out. “So you’ll help me, right? To find out who they are?”
“Absolutely,” Freya said, getting up and brushing off the dirt from her hands by clapping them together.
“We start Monday,” he said.
“I told you I have to work, Luke, and so do you,” she replied.
Shit, he’d forgotten about that.
“After work. I finish around four. What about you?”
“I have an evening class to teach. So we’ll have to sleuth at the weekends. But not Sunday afternoons because I’m at Heidi’s mum and dad’s place. With Keith coming out of his moody fog and being a part of the family, I don’t want to miss the family Sunday roast.”
“You work every evening?”
“Four weeks of five evenings a week. Mr Morris says that I am the most logical as I’m single. Didn’t I tell you this?”
He ignored her question, honing in on the other bit. “But you’re not single.”
“I meant the non-married teachers,” she said airily, waving her hand.
“Hmm, well, that only leaves Saturday. I’m sure you’ll want to spend it with whatever his name is.”
“Probably,” she agreed with zero conviction.
“Look, Friday evening class finishes early, at six. There will be a couple of hours before it gets dark to wade around Turner land to work out who these two are.”
“All right, but that means we won’t see very much of each other.”
“That’s what being grown up is like, Luke.”
“Sucks.”
“It does.”