Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Luke
L uke had asked Freya to meet him at Turner Hall kitchens as he was embarrassed by the lack of furniture in his cottage. Archer had humped his outdoor chairs back to his rear patio area, leaving him with a wonky wooden stool he remembered seeing in Ralph’s shed. He needed to speak to Maggie to ask her a favour.
When he reached the rear of Jason’s place, he and Heidi were sitting quietly, reading and sipping on coffee. He took a detour and approached their patio area.
“Hey guys,” Luke said as he walked up to the low wall. Heidi was sprawled on one sofa, and Jason was on another. They faced each other with a long coffee table between them with a coffee pot and a plate of pastries.
Luke zoned in on the breakfast pastries.
“Hey Luke, how’re things?” Heidi asked.
“They’re good. I’ve got a few things to sort out, and then I’m meeting Freya over in the kitchens. ”
“Anything we can help with?”
“Are you two portable?”
“We have legs,” Jason answered.
“Yes, but are you willing to move from those seats?”
“Yeah. I had to go down to Archer’s place to steal their coffee, so I’m not glued to this seat.”
“That’s one of the things I want to talk about. Are they up and about, or did you help yourself to their kitchen?”
“They’re up. Erica was chatting to her stomach twenty minutes ago, and Archer was looking at her like she’d lost her mind.”
“Sounds like normal. It’s good for the baby to hear their voices,” Heidi said.
“Do you need help to carry anything?” Luke asked.
“Absolutely not. I want these pastries to make it to next door,” Jason grumbled.
“Damn, they look good too.”
“Give him a pastry. There’s another ten in the kitchen,” Heidi said, laughing.
Sighing dramatically, Jason slouched into the kitchen and brought out a tin, and they were on the move. Erica and Archer were sharing a loveseat, with her head in his lap and her legs over the arm of the sofa. Erica was chattering away while Archer stroked her belly with one hand and held a paperback up in the other hand.
“Stop stealing my stuff, Luke,” Archer said without looking up. “I’m fed up with traipsing down to your cottage to fetch it all back.”
“That’s why I’m here. The stuff from the house will come next week.”
“It’s about time. Is Daisy okay with that?”
“Daisy organised the shipping. ”
“Figured you’d delegate,” Archer said.
“She’s good at that shit,” Luke said.
“Luke,” Erica admonished. “The baby will learn your dirty swear words before they’re born.”
“That baby will learn to swear words quicker than you can count to ten. We’re oil riggers. No escaping dirty swears Mrs Hollywood,” Luke warned.
Erica grinned at him. She pulled her shirt down over her bare bump and covered her belly button with her thumb.
“If his or her first words are shit, I’m blaming you,” Erica replied.
Luke rocked back on his heels. “If that’s his or her first words, then I’ll take the hit and be a super proud uncle.”
Archer sighed heavily at the direction o the conversation. “When will the stuff arrive?”
“Next week, Daisy has it all arranged. Then, it will magically appear like it walked itself here.”
“Any closer to working out who is buried under the unmarked stones?” Jason asked.
“Kinda yes, kinda no. Will wait for a few more answers first. I’m off florin hunting with Freya, and we might come across other Turner secrets buried in the rocks.”
“All the secrets we need to know are in that study. I bet she has a secret door to a hidden room where all the Turner scandals are hidden away,” Jason said.
“Nah, all the Turner secrets are hidden in her rooms. That’s why we’re not allowed in there,” Archer said.
“Probably. Anyway, how is it going with Freya? Resolved the mystery over the engagement ring?” Erica asked.
“I gotta go,” Luke said, stuffing his face with a pastry.
He didn’t want to answer any questions about Freya until he knew her feelings. There was no chance of a kiss the night she was marking books in his empty kitchen because she fell asleep on the floor with a book open on her lap. He felt bad about the conditions he put her through, even with feeding her. So he took her home and gave her a head kiss like he usually did.
He could hear Jason’s cackle and Archer calling him a pussy. Then he heard Erica chastise him. Laughter broke out and faded as he jogged to the kitchens and, hopefully, Freya.
Coming to the open doorway, he squinted into the dark kitchen from the bright summer’s day. He couldn’t see anyone for a few seconds, and then his eyes adjusted. Freya sat at the kitchen table on the bench with her hands around a Turner sibling mug. She was grinning at something Maggie was saying. Maggie was at the stove chattering away, waving a spatula in the air as she spoke. Luke found it remarkable that every generation of Maggie’s family had stood in that kitchen, and the same for Bailey’s family. Ralph’s father and grandfather had taken care of the grounds. But the irony wasn’t lost on him that he also had come back to continue the Turner family line, even though it was Archer’s role to produce an heir. Walking through the family tree with Freya brought to light the starkness that he and his siblings were the only row on the family tree to still live.
“Hi, Maggie,” Luke said, walking into the kitchen when Bailey clocked him, standing in the corner with a tiny tea cup.
“Luke,” she cried out. “Come here and give this old lady a hug.”
Luke grinned at her and wrapped her in a tight hug. “You’re far from old Maggie.”
“Tell my bones that,” she said and chuckled, cupping his cheek to pat once. “Take a seat next to Freya, and I’ll get you some breakfast.”
“Is there any coffee on the go?”
“No, but there is tea in the pot. Freya got you a mug ready,” Maggie said.
“Did you now?” Luke said to Freya.
He plonked himself on the bench next to her, hooked an arm around her neck and kissed her head.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning, Luke. Are you ready for today’s adventure?”
“Oh Lord, where are you two off to today?” Maggie said, turning to look at them.
“Florins,” Luke said.
“There are no florins on this island. The Turners settled centuries after the florins you’re after were in circulation. That’s just a rumour. There are no boxes of Italian florins here on the island. I bet that was floated at the card table when they were betting the island as an extra incentive,” Bailey said good-naturedly.
“All rumour starts with an element of truth, doesn’t it?” Freya asked Bailey.
“Yes, that is true,” Bailey boomed in his low tenor, but if there was any here, I’m sure Luke’s great-great-great-grandfather would’ve found them. He documented the entire island. Every nook and cranny.
“It’s a shame those maps are not in existence anymore.”
“But they are,” Maggie said enthusiastically.
Bailey cleared his throat, and they all looked at him as if he was subtly shaking his head. “The Mistress won’t let them be made public. Jennifer has tried for years to let them be put on display at the museum to show how the island looked back then, but she won’t allow it.”
“We were mapping the graveyard. I have so many questions like, what are the odds that all first children were male. We went back ten generations, and all firstborns were male. Until Frederick and Cynthia, only the firstborn survived, passed thirty. There are no cousins, not even removed or long-lost watered-down Turners,” Freya said.
“As far as I know, many died in wars over the centuries. The crown sent our men all over the world to fight our wars. No one has ever accused the Turner men of cowardice. They went off to war and did their duty, and sadly, many didn’t come back. The girls seemed to have not survived infancy or childhood. Some never married, of course, but yes, it is sad that there are not more Turners filling this grand hall.”
Bailey’s face fell for a moment, and then he sipped his tea.
“Well,” Freya said brightly. “Archer is married with a baby on the way. Jason is married. I imagine they’ll start a family soon. Then there is Luke. He won’t be single for long, I imagine. Daisy, I don’t know her well, so I can’t say. Do you want kids, Luke?” Freya asked, looking his way.
“Yeah, I want a big family if my wife is willing.”
“If she’s willing?”
“Well, you can’t help who you fall in love with, so if she didn’t want children, I would accept it.”
“Wow,” Freya said.
“It’s good to hear this Turner generation is more modern,” Maggie said. “If your grandfather were alive, he would have something else to say about that,” Maggie said.
“What could he do?” Luke asked.
No one would dictate who he would marry.
“He was of his time, let’s say. He chose who married who, and no one argued. If they did, there were severe consequences,” Maggie said .
“Like what?” Freya asked, leaning forward, almost whispering.
She grinned at the potential gossip coming from Maggie.
“I couldn’t say,” she replied, giving Freya a wink.
“That sounds like a won’t to me,” Freya said, clapping her hands. “Does it have anything to do with the blank gravestones?”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Maggie said, dropping any humour.
Freya looked at Luke and raised her eyebrows, silently conveying that it was ominous.
“Okay, who wants what?” Maggie asked, looking between Luke and Freya.
“Scrambled eggs on toast and bacon,” Freya said.
“Me too, Maggie. Do you need us to do anything?”
Maggie watched Bailey leave and then looked over to Luke. “Looks like you’ll need to get your own cutlery, and that tea might need a top-up of hot water.”
“Where’s Bailey off to?”
“Gone to do an errand for me. He’ll be back soon.”
Ten minutes later, Bailey came back wheeling a sack trolley with four recognisable boxes. Luke groaned, knowing what was in them.
“Maggie,” Luke hissed at her like a child.
“What’s in the boxes?” Freya asked, chirpy as ever.
“Nothing,” Luke said.
“All your letters,” Maggie replied to Freya.
“All my letters? You said you tossed them,” Freya said, now sporting a scowl.
“Ha! Tossed them. I don’t know who told you that, but these have been preserved like they were ancient documents. All are sealed in bags so they don’t fade or get water damaged. Luke was worried they’d go mouldy in an old house like this.”
Freya took a slow glance between the boxes by the far door to the outside and back to Luke. He sat there sheepish about being called out on his lie.
“Okay, so I lied. Happy now?” Luke said, holding out his hands.
Maggie chose that moment to place their food in front of them. Luke was grateful for the distraction, knowing Freya never chatted while she ate. He had at least five minutes before the questions came.
“Thanks, Maggie. Can I leave them by the door until we come back from florin hunting?”
“I’ll get Ralph to come with his lawnmower he sits on. He can attach the trailer and take them to your back door.”
“I can’t have you do that stuff just for me,” Luke protested.
“Sure you can. Now that he has Keith helping him, he’s looking to do more. You have to understand you’re a Turner, Luke. We are here to take care of you, however, that might be. Lugging four boxes across to Sabrina lodge is no hardship, just like making your breakfast isn’t a hardship. I’m happy to do it, and so is Ralph.”
“If there is anything you need me to do for you, you only need to say the word, Luke. Maggie and I feel like we’re your second parents, and we want to help wherever we can,” Bailey said.
“That’s so sweet,” Freya whispered and then sniffed.
Luke was lost for words. He’d spent so much time away from Turner Hall and hating Cynthia so much he’d forgotten there were good people at Turner Hall.
“You know what would make me really happy?” Maggie asked .
“What’s that?”
“Babies. Make lots of babies that we can cherish,” she said.
“I need to find a girl first that isn’t daunted by all of this. Then I have to convince her to marry me,” Luke said.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make that happen,” Maggie replied.
Luke couldn’t help looking at Freya. She was already staring at him, expressionless, but there was a warmth to her eyes he couldn’t miss.
“Eat up. We need to get going if we’re going to beat the tide,” Luke said.
Freya snapped out of her trance but didn’t hide her smug grin. They ate quietly and quickly, then as soon as the last mouthful was swallowed, Luke was up and grabbed Freya’s hand, hauling her out of the kitchen and shouting his thanks to Maggie. Luke didn’t miss Freya rubbernecking the four boxes at the door and giving the top one a pat before they left.
Luke didn’t speak until they reached the fencing at the top of the path leading down to the private beach. When he tugged on her hand, Freya was about to start the trek down.
“What?” she said, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sunshine.
“Do you think Maggie and Bailey know who is buried under the blank stones?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Do you think they’ll ever say?”
“Not while Cynthia is alive. I bet it’s like a prime minister thing. Archer will be handed the key to the cupboard of Turner secrets, and then it will be too late to ask any questions,” Freya said.
“Do you think that’s kind of sad? ”
“Heartbreaking. Granny keeps telling Heidi, me, and Keith to ask her all the questions now before she loses her marbles or dies. She bangs on about the family, knowing where they came from and who their family are. It seems like who the Turners are is shrouded in mystery. Either there is nothing to know, and we’re in a Wizard of Oz situation, or the truth is so sad and heart-wrenching we’re being saved from it all to the point when we know we must accept it.”
“We?” Luke asked. Buoyed by the notion, she might be contemplating a relationship with him.
“I’ll always be your best friend, Luke. I’ll see you through whatever heartache comes your way.”
“Freya,” he said with a sigh, bringing her in for a hug.
“Don’t get all sappy on me now, Luke Turner. You’re gruff and brusque and indifferent, telling lies to avoid showing your soft side.”
“I have never lied to you.”
“I tossed your letters,” she said, trying to mimic his voice.
“Apart from that,” he said.
“Anything else you’re keeping from me?”
Luke was about to say no, but that would be a lie. He was keeping from her that he wanted to be more than best friends. With her so close, smelling like she did of peaches, comfort and woman, he wanted to confess everything he was feeling about her, even if he couldn’t figure it all out.
Instead, he said, “Let’s go hunting.”
Luke took off at a jog, leaving her at the top of the path, huffing out a telling-off he couldn’t hear over the screeching seagulls. He cupped his hand at his ear and shook his head as he ran backwards down the track. Luke turned, so he didn’t fall over a boulder and sprinted the rest of the way, expanding the distance between them. He needed to get his wits together in case he showed her exactly how he was feeling. And he wasn’t ready for rejection.
He slowed as soon as he hit the sand, and Freya caught up with him a few minutes later.