Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
F iona and Bee had left, but Esme’s mind was still whirling. If Tobias was a god, whatever that even meant, perhaps he couldn’t die? It was a comforting thought until her gaze fell upon the pile of books she had borrowed from the shop. Neolithic burial cairns, pagan mythology, death myths from around the world. So many words cataloguing ancient beliefs and a thousand deities. Gods large and small. They weren’t all here, now. Which meant they had either been fictitious or they had existed once and then disappeared. Died. She closed her eyes and in the darkness saw a small plant withering, leaves browning and curling and stems drooping until rot set in and the whole thing crumbled to dust.
There was one person Esme wanted to speak to, but unfortunately, he was bonding with his long-lost brother. She didn’t blame him, of course, and was glad that Lewis was alive and well. But the timing could have been better. Or maybe it would never be ideal. Would she ever feel good about being shoved aside?
She stopped, surprised at herself. Luke hadn’t shoved her aside. He was spending time with his twin, the brother he feared had died. A wave of shame washed over her and she felt a familiar urge to go for a walk, to make some food, to go to her studio and paint until the feeling passed. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at the place inside herself that hurt, like probing a sore tooth with her tongue. Luke’s family is back. He won’t need me anymore.
And there it was. The orphaned child that lived inside Esme was curled up in the corner, head on her knees, trying not to listen to the happy sounds of a family that she would never be a part of. She had never been adopted, but she had seen families in her foster placements. Knew that they existed for other people. Just not for her. It’s not the same, she told that small child. Luke isn’t a foster family. They were a couple. He had chosen her.
The next day, the two brothers were walking to the car park. They were moving quickly, long legs eating up the distance, as the sky turned from ominous grey to thunderous black. The weather had been either fog or rain or thundering, with breaks of bright sunshine that felt like a searchlight piercing the thick clouds.
Luke wasn’t thinking about the strange weather, though. Wasn’t paying attention to the unhappy island. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Lewis to shout ‘psych’ or initiate another fight. It couldn’t be this easy. He couldn’t have found his brother and then have him wander out of his life again, no fuss, no trouble, no bomb going off. ‘You’re really leaving?’
‘Try to contain your sadness,’ Lewis said, shooting him a wry look.
‘Where will you go?’
‘Drop me at the nearest train station and I’ll work it out from there.’
Now Luke felt bad. His brother wasn’t an unexploded bomb, he was a person. His twin. ‘You can stay longer if you need to.’ He curbed the urge to add ‘I think’. He wasn’t about to start explaining wards and the two-night rule to Lewis.
‘Nah. I have got a lot of catching up to do and it’s slim pickings here. Not that your woman isn’t delightful, but I get the impression you’re not keen to share.’
Luke felt his whole body tense. He knew that Lewis was messing with him, but he still hated it. He unlocked his old Ford Fiesta. ‘Stay in touch, yeah?’
‘You know me.’ Lewis’s smile was a smirk and Luke wondered if he looked that annoying. It was one of the hazards of having a twin – you got to see every version of every expression of your own face played out and it wasn’t always a flattering experience.
‘Is that right?’
Luke had been so distracted by Lewis that he only now realised that something was very wrong.
‘How deep is it?’ Lewis was looking at the causeway. Or where the causeway ought to be. ‘Is that drivable?’
‘No.’ Luke checked his watch for the third time. The causeway was due to be passable at half three. By four o’clock, it should have been completely visible with the maximum amount of road available and the water receded right out to the guide posts that lined the route. Instead, Luke was looking at choppy waves in an unbroken seascape. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You got the time wrong?’
‘No,’ Luke locked his car and turned to head back to the village. His first thought was to visit Tobias and ask for help. Then he remembered that Tobias wasn’t an option.
‘What do we do?’ Lewis fell into step by his side.
‘I don’t know.’
Lewis was silent for a couple of minutes as they made their way back toward the village. When he spoke, he sounded annoyed. ‘Why are you so freaked out? Is it so terrible to have me here for another couple of hours?’
Luke didn’t know how to explain just how wrong this was. ‘It’s the tide. It doesn’t just not happen. It’s not something that is ever late .’
Lewis still wasn’t getting it. He scrunched up his face. ‘First time for everything, right?’
‘Not this,’ Luke said. ‘Tides are caused by gravitational forces and our rotation with the moon. If tides are messed up, we are basically looking at a cataclysmic change. This weird tide here might mean a tsunami on the other side of the world.’
‘I don’t remember you being so dramatic.’ Lewis looked around at the calm of the island. ‘I don’t hear anybody else screaming.’
‘There’s hardly anybody here,’ Luke said. ‘And the islanders aren’t the screaming type.’
Luke meant what he said. He would have sworn the islanders weren’t prone to panic, but he still wasn’t looking forward to being the bearer of bad news. It made him feel unpleasantly responsible.
Esme flew down her garden path as they approached, her curly hair loose and wild around her shoulders.
‘Something doesn’t feel right,’ she said, out of breath and face flushed. ‘I was going to do some painting and I…’ She seemed to remember that Lewis wasn’t an islander and stopped abruptly.
‘The causeway isn’t open,’ Luke said, reaching out a hand instinctively to touch her shoulder. ‘It’s high tide.’
‘Now?’ Esme hooked a stray strand of hair from her mouth and tucked it behind her ear.
‘I know it doesn’t make sense.’
‘It’s water, water, every where,’ Lewis said.
‘Coleridge?’ Luke was surprised into asking. ‘Since when do you read poetry?’
‘I can read poetry if I want,’ Lewis said. ‘I’ve had a lot of free time recently.’
‘It’s not time for poetry,’ Esme said, eyes wide. ‘I don’t know what this is, but it’s nothing good.’
‘Do you need to check…’ Luke remembered Lewis just in time.
‘Yes,’ Esme said, catching on instantly. ‘I’ll get my stuff.’
The rain had begun to fall as they were speaking. It wasn’t heavy, but there was a wall of sea mist advancing from the north.
‘I’ll go and speak to the others. I’ll drop Lewis at the shop first.’ He didn’t like the idea of his brother being alone in the shop, but they wouldn’t be able to speak freely around an outsider.
Lewis was frowning, following the conversation.
Luke touched Esme’s arm. ‘Be careful.’ He watched her hurry back to the house to collect her rucksack and then steered Lewis away.
As they walked to the village, it was clear that Lewis was unhappy at being kept in the dark. ‘You don’t need to manage me,’ he said. ‘Just tell me why you are so freaked out.’
‘I’ll explain later,’ Luke said, not really meaning it. He had to tell the islanders about the causeway. He wondered what Esme would find when she checked the wards.
‘Fine. I’ll leave you to it,’ Lewis said and peeled away in the opposite direction.
Luke swore silently. It wasn’t that he thought anybody on the island was truly in any danger from his brother. Regardless of how much he had changed or what he might have done as part of his criminal life, Luke couldn’t believe his brother was a killer. And right at this moment, he had a more pressing problem than the need to babysit his twin.