Set Me Free Page 22

  “Hello, sweetheart!” he said, and opened his arms. Lara walked slowly to him and into his embrace.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to take you back, darling. After you phoned me, yesterday, I just jumped into the car and—”

  “You what?”

  “Lara—” I began.

  “Mum? Are we going back?” she said in a small voice.

  “Yes. Your mum and I will try to work things out. We will work things out,” Ash said in a reasonable voice. I think he wanted it to sound cheerful, but it came out tense, like he was expecting an attack.

  And he got one.

  “But I don’t want to go back. I don’t. I told you I wanted to stay in Glen Avich, Dad! You’d say we’d talk about it . . . You said—”

  “And we are talking about it!” Ash said. “We’re telling you we’re going back.”

  “I want to stay here! I want to stay with Nonna. I’m happy here. I didn’t know what happy even was. I want to stay! Mum!”

  “Lara . . .” I rested a hand on her shoulder to lead her into the living room, but she shook me off. She was shaking with upset.

  “You said we’d talk about it, and now you’re just telling me—”

  “Lara. We’re all going back to London.” I could hear the edge in Ash’s voice and I was ready to jump to Lara’s defence.

  “Ash, why don’t you go for a walk or something, Lara and I can talk it through.”

  “Now you’re sending me for a walk? Aren’t I meant to be present while our future is discussed?”

  “I don’t want to go back!” Lara shouted, and I looked at her in sudden fear. Was she going to explode? Would she give in to her rage?

  I watched her grab a framed photograph from the mantelpiece, her sweet features scrunched up in pain . . .

  “Lara!”

  For a second I thought she’d throw the photograph at her dad. And then she put it down, slowly, like it was an enormous effort. She looked at me straight in the eye.

  “I’m staying,” she said calmly, in spite of the trembling of her body. And then she walked out of the front door.

  “Where are you going?” I cried out.

  “To Inary’s,” she snapped, and slammed the door.

  “I’ll get her back.” Ash went to follow her, but I stopped him.

  “Let her go.”

  “What? Let her go where? Back to that bloody lake, so she can fall in again?”

  “Don’t be silly. She’s going to see her friend, that’s all!”

  “Right. Fine. Fine.”

  He was trying to keep calm, but I could see he was furious. His cheeks were purple.

  We walked back to La Piazza and I caught my mum’s eye as Ash and Leo were playing in the children’s corner. She had a strange expression on her face. Like she was sorry for me.

  “Where’s Lara?”

  “At Inary’s.”

  “Right.” Her tone was clipped. I noticed she was very pale.

  “She hasn’t taken it so well.”

  “Margherita—”

  “Mum, please. I’m confused enough,” I blurted out, rubbing my forehead.

  “I just wanted to say . . . don’t make rushed decisions . . .”

  “I’m keeping my family together. That’s all,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to hear.

  “And what about you?”

  “What about me?” I snapped. Suddenly, my phone chirped. I jumped, hoping it would be Lara, but it was Torcuil.

  Lara is here. Don’t worry, I’ll speak to her and calm her down, then I’ll drive her back.

  She wasn’t with Inary? Why had she gone to Torcuil?

  My heart sank. So now Torcuil knew we were going back. He knew that Ash was here.

  What a mess. What a terrible, terrible mess.

  I was failing everyone, breaking everyone’s heart. And for what?

  “Who’s texting you?” Ash called from the children’s corner.

  “My boss,” I said, and it was partly true. My mum disappeared into the back, her mouth in a thin line. “Lara is with him.”

  “With him? Who is this guy? What do we know about him?”

  What do you know about any of us? I wanted to say. But I held my tongue.

  “Don’t worry. Lara is safe there,” I said.

  And so was I.

  I used to be safe there, at Ramsay Hall.

  I’m sorry, I wrote to Torcuil, but there was no reply.

  “So, are you happy Daddy is back?”

  “Yes!” Leo shouted at the top of his voice, and hung onto his neck. He’d got over the shock and was now loving his father’s attention.

  Contrasting emotions tore me apart – so strong were the feelings, they were nearly physical. I had to keep the family together, I had to listen to what Lara wanted, I had to give my husband a chance, I had to keep Leo and his father close, I had to do what was right . . . but right for who?

  I was so proud of Lara for not exploding in rage. So proud of her for not letting her overwhelming emotions get the best of her. And I felt guilty for wanting to take her away from here, guilty for having broken up the family in the first place, guilty about everything . . . What was I to do? Hot tears pressed at my eyes and I fought to keep them in. And then the phone chirped again.

  She’s staying here for lunch, if that’s okay.

  Yes. Thank you. Can I come and see you?

  I held my breath as I waited for the reply.

  I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ll drive Lara back. You stay where you should be, with Leo and your husband.

  I just sat there miserably. Wondering how come, if I was making the right decision, everything felt so totally and completely wrong.

  42

  And so you see

  Lara

  Dear Kitty,

  This is terrible. My dad is here, and I was sort of happy to see him, though it was strange. But now he wants to take us back and I don’t want to return to London. I can’t leave Glen Avich. I can’t leave this room where I feel like I’m home. I can’t go back to my old school and be the weird girl again.

  I am staying.

  If Nonna wants me, I am staying.

  They can’t make me go.

  So I saw red and I felt this rage coming over me again, but – wait for it – I controlled it! I controlled myself! I couldn’t believe it. I was so proud of myself, but the news we were going back to London was too overwhelming to feel good about it. I ran out because I didn’t want to see either of them, Mum or Dad. I meant to go to Inary’s house, but instead my feet made their own decision and I went to see Torcuil. Maybe because Torcuil understands about Mal, so he would certainly understand about other things as well, I don’t know. I don’t know why I went to him, but I did.

  I ran along the loch shore, and even just looking at Loch Avich broke my heart. I don’t want to leave the loch. I don’t want to leave Ailsa and the memories of Mal. Every step I took was a beat of my heart, every heartbeat was a song of love for Glen Avich.

  I can’t help it, Kitty.

  I changed so many houses as a child, and I suppose my mum gave me a home in London – but for some reason, this is the first time I truly feel at home.

  Torcuil was surprised when I turned up at his door alone and in tears, but he let me in anyway. He made me a cup of tea and took me to his study.

  The fire was burning. We don’t have a real fire in London. The only time I’ve seen real flames was at Guy Fawkes, at the big bonfire in the park, from half a mile away. If I go back, there will be no more of this – no more sitting at the fireplace, gazing at the flames. No loch, no real fires, no bridge, no La Piazza, no heathery hills and no changing skies. No Nonna, no Michael, no Inary, no Torcuil.

  Everything would be gone.

  “So. Tell me what’s wrong,” he said. When he blinks like that, he reminds me a bit of an owl.

  “Well, I . . . Torcuil. Listen. There’s this question I’ve got to ask you.” I took a breath.
“Who told you I was on the loch? Who told you I was in danger?”

  “A spirit. A spirit who lives in this house.”

  A spirit. Oh.

  “Okay. Okay.” I had to digest that for a moment. “Had it been only last week, I would have thought you were mental. But after Mal . . .”

  He shrugged. “I see ghosts. I speak to them. You know it can happen, because it happened to you.”

  “Yes. That’s true.”

  “You have to promise me never to speak about this with anyone, Lara. Nobody in my family talks about this, unless it’s to people they really, really trust.”

  “Nobody in your family? Do you mean there’s other people like you?”

  “Yes. Inary is one.”

  “Inary?” Seriously? Kitty, I was shocked.

  “Yes.”

  “So it runs in your family. Okay. But it doesn’t run in mine. At least, I don’t think so. Why did I see him then?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you called out to each other.”

  “Does my mum know? About you?”

  “No. I was going to tell her. But she’s made her choice, now.”

  I hung my head.

  “It’s all crazy. It makes no sense. My mum and dad have barely spoken to each other for years! We never saw him. He was just horrible to her. It makes no sense that she wants to go back.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to go back to your dad. Maybe she just wants to go back to London.”

  “She was miserable there. Yes, she had my zia Anna, but apart from that . . . I’d got so used to seeing Mum miserable that I’d forgotten what she used to be like. I only remembered when she came up here and I saw her old self coming back. She started cooking again . . . with her heart, you know what I mean? With passion. Even her face has changed. She shouldn’t go back. I shouldn’t either. I hate my school . . .”

  “There are many schools in London. You can change.”

  “I want to stay here. I want to be near Nonna and Michael. It’s so beautiful here, and . . . quiet. Magical. I want us to be riding Stoirin and Sheherazade. I want us to be near you.”

  “I want you all to be near me too, Lara. But your mum has decided otherwise.”

  We were silent for a moment. The fire was crackling and dancing and I felt like I was dying inside.

  “I said to them I’ll stay. If Nonna wants me.”

  “Oh, Lara. Your nonna can’t possibly want you to be away from your mum. You know that. It would break your mum’s heart. Your nonna will never agree.”

  “I thought you were on my side!”

  “I am! But it’s your parents making the decisions. Not me. Listen, I promised your mum I’d fix you some lunch. What about a sandwich?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “But I am. And you can’t just sit there and watch me eat.”

  “All right, then,” I said.

  Torcuil disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a plate full of sandwiches. I took a bite.

  “What is this?”

  “Spaghetti hoops sandwich. My mother used to make it for us when we were ill or upset. Real comfort food.”

  Comfort? I would have used another word. I forced myself to down the spaghetti hoops sandwich, so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

  “You can always come back. Twice a year, or so . . .” he said, and he looked more devastated than me, if that’s at all possible.

  “I’m not going.”

  “And whenever you return, you can come here and ride Stoirin.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Lara—”

  “I thought she liked you.” He looked at me with eyes so sad I could have cried, and then he looked down into his half-eaten sandwich.

  “I thought she liked me too.”

  I felt so, so sorry for him.

  “So, the spirit who told you where I was. Where is he now? Is he here?”

  “Oh yes. He’s sitting just beside you.”

  A sandwich bite just froze in my throat and refused to go down.

  “Is he?”

  He nodded.

  “For real?”

  “Yes, I told you.”

  “Why can’t I see him, but I could see Mal?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Can he hear me if I speak?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, do you hear me? I’m staying. I’m staying in Glen Avich, whatever they decide. And . . . and thank you.”

  I was crossing the kitchen’s doorstep and stepping into the garden when the fuchsia plant around the door trembled and shook all of a sudden, even if the air was still. A shower of flowers enveloped me.

  Torcuil smiled and said nothing.

  We didn’t speak on the short drive home. A flower fell from my hair and into my lap, and I cradled it in my hand.

  43

  The ocean is too wide to swim (1)

  Margherita

  Ash checked into the Green Hat, the local hotel. I couldn’t have him at the cottage, of course, and my mum made some excuse about not having any rooms ready. She didn’t want him there. I left him at the Green Hat and made my way home as quickly as I could, hoping to catch Torcuil when he took Lara home. I wanted to explain.

  I was lucky; they were just driving into the street when I arrived. Lara looked mutinous as she stepped out of the car and strode inside – I wanted to stop her, but Torcuil was about to drive away.

  “Torcuil!” I called, and, without waiting for his permission, I slipped inside the car beside him.

  “Torcuil, please, let me explain—”

  “What is there to say? You’re going. That’s all there is to it,” he said without looking at me.

  “You knew I was going back. I never said I would stay . . .”

  “No, that’s true. I just allowed myself to hope. It was my fault.”

  “He’s the father of my children . . .” I whispered.

  A moment. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Can you see it, now, Margherita? Can you see now I was right, not to let myself go that night?” The bitterness in his voice was like a blade through my heart.

  “I’m sorry,” I could only say once more as I bled inside.

  “I understand. I really do, Margherita,” he said softly, and the sudden kindness made it worse. I felt hot tears running down my face, and I didn’t even care about hiding them. “Well, I’ll have your outstanding wages sent to you. Safe journey back to London,” he said, and he leaned across me to open my car door.

  I didn’t want to go anywhere.

  I wanted to stay into that car with him, and not step out and face everyone. Lara’s anger. Mum’s disappointment. Ash’s shortcomings. Leo’s confusion.

  But I slipped out of the car and I went inside. I went inside to my family, feeling like I’d departed from my body, like the real Margherita was gone forever and only a shell remained.

  “Anna, it’s me.”

  “Hey . . . what’s wrong? You sound terrible!”

  “Did Mum tell you?” I wrapped my free arm around myself – I was sitting on the cobblestones at the back of our cottage, my knees to my chin; a chilly breeze was blowing and my hands were frozen.

  “Tell me what? Are you okay? Is everyone okay? Lara? You’re scaring me!”

  “Sorry,” I said, contrite. “Everyone is okay, don’t worry. Just, Ash is here . . .”

  “He is?”

  “Yes. When he heard what happened with Lara he just drove up without warning.” Anna knew about Lara’s accident, though of course I hadn’t mentioned Torcuil’s strange premonition.

  “Right . . . so he’s there. And what did he say? What’s happening between you two?”

  “He said he wants us back. He said he’s sorry. He does sound sorry . . .” Was I trying to convince Anna or myself? “Anyway, we decided to give it another try. To come back to London now and just . . . yes, give it another try.” I shrugged. The stone wall felt
hard and cold behind my back and a sweet scent of peat filled the air, like always on chilly evenings.

  “But that’s good . . . isn’t it? Because you don’t sound very happy.”

  “I . . . I don’t know. It seems like the right thing to do.”

  “And Torcuil?”

  “Torcuil . . . he didn’t take it well.” Dismay filled my stomach and I felt like I was sinking.

  “No wonder. Does Ash know about . . . you know, about what’s been happening?”

  “No, of course not! He would never forgive me. It was a mistake anyway.”

  “Was it?”

  She was echoing my mum’s words. And that worried me. Of course it had been a mistake – I didn’t want anyone to confuse me about that.

  “That doesn’t matter! It’s Lara I’m worried about. She’s distraught. She doesn’t want to go back. Remember I told you about the business cards, and all the hints she’d dropped . . . but our lives are in London. We can’t stay here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because . . . because our place is with Ash!”

  Silence.

  “Anna?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I’ll support you whatever you decide.”

  “It’s like you don’t particularly want me to come back!” I said childishly.

  “I would love for you to come back. But I’d rather you were far away and happy than here and miserable.”

  “And who says I would be miserable there?”

  “Nothing says you would be miserable in London. But Lara will. And there’s a lot of evidence that says it’s likely, if not sure you’ll be miserable with Ash.”

  “I need to put the family back together, Anna.”

  “Like I said, I’ll support you whatever you decide.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just let me know when you’re back; I’m coming home in two days so I’ll have some groceries there for you.”

  An image: bread and milk in my fridge. My kitchen. My house. Empty and silent as we returned, a little mound of post on the kitchen table, left there by Anna. Days and weeks and months of the life I used to have before I came here.

  “Thank you. I will,” I said, forbidding myself from speaking any further, from thinking any further.