Chapter 4
Chapter Four
L uke didn’t know if it was the cup of tea and easy chat or the pain from Esme’s cat sinking his claws into his ankle, but he found himself speaking again.
‘I couldn’t sleep, either. Last night. I got a message from Lewis.’ He hadn’t intended to mention it, having become accustomed to dealing with his problems on his own, but now that Esme was sitting in front of him he found he wanted to talk about it. First Tobias and now Esme, what on earth had happened to him?
Esme was frowning. ‘Your brother? The one you’ve been looking for?’
‘My twin, yeah.’
‘Is he all right? Did he tell you where he is?’
Luke grabbed his phone and thumbed to the message, then showed Esme. There wasn’t a chain of messages above it, as it was the first time Lewis had ever used WhatsApp. It had to be using his old mobile number for the account, though, as the display name was ‘Lewis’ and not an unknown phone number.
‘What kind of message is that?’ Esme’s eyes were flashing in anger. ‘I’m sorry, I know he’s your family, but what the…’
He was gratified by her reaction, realising that a small part of him had been simmering in frustration. All of this time. All of the worry. And then Lewis sends him this curt dismissal. Problem was, it only sparked more concern. ‘Yeah. It’s not great. But I don’t believe he’s just being a dick. He can be one, don’t get me wrong, and he loves to wind me up, but this is…’
‘Messed up.’
He nodded. ‘Extremely. And it doesn’t feel like him. Like his brand of fuckery, if you know what I mean?’
‘Are you going to reply?’
‘I’ve tried ringing his number a few times since. He doesn’t have voicemail so it just says ‘the person you’ve called is unavailable’. Same as it has all the other times I’ve tried. Could be switched off, could be dead.’ He winced as the last word seemed to hang in the air.
To her credit, Esme didn’t flinch. She didn’t bail on the conversation now that it was heavy. ‘You think somebody else sent the message? Using Lewis’s phone?’
Luke picked up his mug of tea and then put it back down. His throat had closed up.
‘Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t mean Lewis is… incapacitated.’ Esme’s expression was gentle and Luke felt dangerously close to crying. He managed a grimace and a nod that he hoped conveyed ‘maybe’ and appreciation of her words without him having to speak.
‘Or,’ Esme continued, her voice brighter, ‘someone could have stolen his phone. He might have a shiny new phone and be living his best life and have just not been in touch to give you his new details. For some petty reason. Families can be weird. So I’ve been told, anyway.’
‘Yours is normal?’ Luke was glad to change the subject a bit. Maybe get some light relief.
‘No siblings, parents died, foster care from six.’
‘Holy shit. I’m sorry.’
Esme shrugged. Her expression had closed back down to the blank, guarded one he remembered from when he first arrived on the island. His chest tightened in misery. And then she flashed him a reassuring smile and looked like herself again. ‘I don’t talk about it. Not because it’s a big secret or too terrible or anything. I just… honestly, I don’t know what to say. It was shit. But it’s over. And I’m not going to go through the rest of my life being defined by my crappy childhood.’
‘That’s a very mature attitude.’
She stuck her tongue out at him.
It wasn’t until Luke went home that something very obvious occurred to her. She rang his mobile, feeling like it wasn’t the sort of thing she ought to put in a text. He answered quickly. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ Esme smiled at his concern. ‘I just thought of something. Don’t know why I didn’t think before…’
‘What?’
‘Are you going to speak to the police about Lewis? I mean, the message from him is a lead.’
There was a short silence. ‘Probably not.’
‘Because he’s an adult? Or do you think they’ll stop looking because he’s asked you to?’
‘I haven’t been to the police at all. He’s not registered missing.’
‘But…’
‘My brother hasn’t been living a good life. He would never forgive me if I called the law on him.’
At that, Esme realised why it hadn’t been her first thought, either. The police weren’t bad in her mind, not her conscious mind anyway. But underneath that, there was a fear of authority and of bureaucratic systems. She had been swallowed up by the care system and it had been filled with many good people who meant well, but the overall experience was of being churned through a machine. No control. No exit. She felt a burning in the back of her throat as if she was going to cry. Or throw up. ‘I get it,’ she said.
‘It’s a good thing, anyway,’ Luke said. ‘I don’t think the other islanders would thank me for bringing police attention here. Lewis isn’t here, I know that now, but I came here looking for him. An investigation might have them asking questions, looking into us all.’
‘We do like our privacy here.’ They all had pasts they were running from or secrets they wanted to stay hidden.
‘And it would be causing trouble for no good reason. Lewis didn’t come here, whatever rumours I heard. Nobody here saw him, I’m sure of it. They would have told me by now.’
Esme was touched by his trust in the community. And it seemed like a good sign for him sticking around.
People came to Unholy Island for sanctuary and sometimes the safest thing of all was to disappear.
Hammer had thought he was working on a new carving. He had his favourite whittling knife in one hand and a beautiful chunk of elm in the other, but he had been staring into the flames of his log burner utterly motionless for what, he now realised, was the best part of an hour.
He wasn’t upset about Oliver. Not about the man’s death, anyway. And he didn’t think he was particularly upset about Alvis, either. Hammer had seen a lot of death and, while Alvis might have been helped along by Oliver, she had reached an extremely good age and didn’t have too much to complain about.
All of that made good sense, so he didn’t understand why he had been watching the orange flames and thinking about his gran. The only family of his worth a damn. And long dead, now. No reason for her image to be haunting him.
He put down the wood and closed the knife. He would go to the pub, have some food and maybe a pint. Hammer wasn’t a big drinker, but he would have one or two tonight, he could feel it. With any luck, Esme would be in and he could speak to her for a while. Or not. Just being in the same place as her would make him feel better. He didn’t think it was because she was the island’s witch, didn’t know how much of the island lore he believed, but he knew she was a good person. And that being near her made the thing inside him that was snarling and snapping quieten down.
The next day, Esme’s house phone rang. Seren sounded excited and worried in equal measure. ‘A woman’s interested in renovating the cottages down near your place. She’s called Kate.’
‘What?’
‘She just came into the pub and I gave her a bacon roll. For breakfast. She wanted granola and fresh berries but I told her it was winter so she could have jam or compote from the freezer if she wanted raspberry. But she seemed to enjoy the bacon.’
Esme broke in as soon as Seren paused to draw breath. ‘What do you mean she’s interested in the cottages? What for?’
‘The ones down by your place. One of them, at least. I’m not quite clear. And she might have been talking nonsense anyway. Do you think it’s possible? What do the wards say?’
‘They don’t speak to me,’ Esme said, more sharply than she intended. Her heart was pounding. Another new person. She thought about the strange wind the other night. The sense of foreboding.
‘She said she was going to speak to Tobias, so you might be able to catch her there if you leave now.’
‘Right.’ Esme realised she was being given an order.
Walking across to the mayor’s house didn’t take long and, as Seren had predicted, the visitor was still there.
‘Good,’ Tobias said when he opened the door to Esme. ‘You’re here.’
‘Seren called,’ Esme said, stepping over the threshold. The house smelled of beeswax polish and wood smoke.
‘We have a visitor.’
‘So I hear.’ Esme wanted to ask more, but Tobias was already leading the way into the sitting room. The fire was crackling in the grate, but Winter wasn’t in his usual position in front of it. She looked around, expecting the dog to come and greet her, but he was nowhere to be seen.
A young woman was standing in the middle of the room. She was wearing slim jeans, leather ankle boots, and an over-sized grey jumper that looked like cashmere. She had expertly applied make-up and her honey blonde hair fell in perfect, swishy loose curls.
‘Hello,’ Esme said, and introduced herself.
‘I’m Kate Foster,’ the woman said.
Her smile was warm and seemed genuine. Esme felt her shoulders ease down a notch. This woman looked like money. When she realised there wasn’t a development opportunity on the island, or a shop selling ruinously expensive candles, she would no doubt head back across the causeway.
‘I was just telling Kate about our little community,’ Tobias said. ‘Do sit, everyone.’
Esme wondered which version of the island Tobias had gone with. She waited for Kate to take a seat before sitting cross-legged on the hearth rug. Winter’s usual spot. She wanted to ask where the dog was, but it felt too private a question in front of a stranger. Tobias must have guessed what she was thinking, though, as he answered her anyway. ‘Winter’s out in the garden. He wouldn’t come in, so I’ve left him to it for now.’ He shook his head fondly. ‘He’s getting stubborn in his old age.’
Tobias sat in his usual chair, his hand dangling as if expecting to find Winter. Esme wondered if he would absent-mindedly pat her on the head instead.
‘My friend visited,’ Kate was saying. ‘She said it was really pretty. And quiet. I like quiet, there are so few properly wild places left now, don’t you think? Where you can get back to nature? And the old ways of life. We’re always in such a hurry these days. It’s good to slow down. Anyway, I just had to come and see for myself. And then I saw those darling cottages and it felt like fate.’
Esme glanced at Tobias. Word sometimes spread about the island, of course, people didn’t always forget about the place instantly. It took varying amounts of time for thoughts of the island to fade and sometimes people talked. And, for the most part, Unholy Island welcomed day trippers and one-night visitors. They brought money and life to the place. But wanting to complete a renovation project was different. That was medium-term at least, even if Kate didn’t plan on staying on the island overnight for more than two nights at a time. It still violated the spirit of the two-night rule, even if it would technically be allowed.
‘And what do you think?’ Tobias asked Kate, surprising Esme.
‘I think they’re beautiful, but they need some love.’
The woman was exuding sincerity. It put Esme on her guard. ‘They’re not for sale, I’m afraid.’
Kate shook her head. ‘Forgive me, but I don’t think that’s quite true.’
Esme realised that she didn’t actually know who owned the buildings on the island. She had been given the bed-and-breakfast when she arrived and Luke had been given the bookshop as well as the job of Book Keeper. But it wasn’t a name on a piece of paper, not the kind of ownership that meant selling the building. It was more of a role. A tenancy or stewardship. Esme understood that when she died there would be a new Ward Witch and whoever took on that responsibility would also live in Strand House.
‘I’m sorry?’ Tobias was saying, his expression mild. ‘I don’t think we quite follow you.’
Kate Foster shrugged an elegant shoulder. ‘You know how things are these days. Everything is for sale.’