All My Secrets (6 page)

The truth is that I’ve never felt the sensations I’m experiencing right now. Which at this point is frankly the last thing I need.

‘I’m Kit,’ the boy says, raising his hand in a sort of awkward half-wave.

‘Hi.’ I raise my hand too, feeling self-conscious. I’m suddenly aware that Anna is standing beside me, her cheeks a deep pink. Kit glances at her, then back to me.

‘Hi.’ I wonder what he did that got him sent here too. He seems a bit dazed and overwhelmed, much like me and Anna and very much unlike Pepper who oozes mischief and confidence as
she swans over to join us.

‘Good, you’re all here.’ Miss Bunnock hurries in, her trainers squeaking on the stone floor. I glance around. Two more boys have appeared while I’ve been looking at Kit.
One seems younger than the rest of us. He’s skinny with short sandy hair and glasses. The other is dressed entirely in black. His shoulder-length hair is as dark as mine and he has a guitar
slung over his back.

‘Leave that instrument in the hall, please, Josh,’ Miss Bunnock says with a smile. ‘Follow me.’

‘Will do, Miss,’ drawls Josh in a tone that makes clear he is only obeying the rules because he’s being forced to. He puts down his guitar, winking at Pepper as he passes. I
sneak a glance at Kit. He’s gazing across the room at Josh’s guitar.

The six of us traipse after Miss Bunnock into a big, wood-panelled room lined with bookshelves. A trio of large, squashy sofas surrounds a fireplace and there’s a snooker table by the
window. It’s far cosier than anywhere else I’ve seen so far. Pepper and Josh are whispering right behind me. What are they talking about? It sounds like Pepper is proposing some sort of
midnight lock-picking adventure. Can Josh really pick locks? I’m starting to feel intrigued. Maybe Lightsea is going to be more interesting than I expected. I shift slightly sideways to get a
better view of Kit. He has a gorgeous profile, all his features perfectly aligned. Butterflies zoom around my stomach as I focus on Miss Bunnock.

‘You’ll meet the rest of the staff later,’ she says. ‘For now, I just want to run through a few basics. Lightsea House was built over one hundred years ago and used as an
asylum for the mentally ill before being bought by the father of the present owner, Mr Lomax.’

My ears prick up. The older Mr Lomax is the one who was friends with Irina and Gavin’s parents, my grandparents.

‘They say the island is haunted by nutters,’ Pepper whispers under her breath. ‘I googled it.’

I shiver, remembering the dark figure outside.

‘Do I have your full attention, Pepper?’ Miss Bunnock asks, eyebrows raised.

‘Course you do.’ Pepper grins.

A flash of irritation crosses Miss Bunnock’s face, then it passes and she smiles again.

‘The older Mr Lomax ran the place as a mental-health facility for young people until his death ten years ago, when the current owner, his son David, took over.’

A little thrill runs down my spine as I remember Gavin telling me that David Lomax might have memories of Irina from when they were kids.

‘The current Mr Lomax founded and runs the Lightsea programme for teenagers. This utilises a range of activities from meditation to team-building, all designed to develop the taking of
personal responsibility in a supportively holistic environment.’

‘In a
what
?’ Josh wrinkles his nose.

I glance at Pepper. She rolls her eyes. ‘Unbelievable,’ she mouths.

‘Mr Bradley and I handle all exercise programmes and outdoor chores,’ Miss Bunnock continues. ‘Meanwhile, our housekeeper, Mrs Moncrieff, will supervise you indoors. There is a
rota of chores which all six of you are expected to adhere to.’

‘What kind of chores, Miss Bunnock?’ Kit asks politely.

‘Food preparation . . . cleaning . . .’ Miss Bunnock shrugs. ‘Now to finish there are just a few rules. We want you to focus on your personal development, hence the
restrictions on clothes and make-up and electronic distractions. We also believe in the internalizing of discipline, which is why we insist you all carry out daily chores. However, outside your
duties and sessions with staff, you’re free to roam wherever you want on the island. I’m afraid swimming is forbidden, for your own safety; the rocks in the sea around the island can be
lethal.’

‘I wouldn’t go swimming in the ocean anyway,’ Anna breathes. ‘It’s far too scary.’

I look down, suppressing the shiver that runs through me at the thought of the cold, dark, dangerous water.

‘You also need to be careful of the caves and bays where the tide can easily trap you unawares, and some of the rocks overlooking the sea are dangerous too, sheer drops to the
water.’

As Miss Bunnock continues, Kit moves closer so our shoulders are almost touching. The blood pumps furiously against my temples as Miss Bunnock explains that if we refuse to take part in the
Lightsea programme the punishment will be Quiet Time, ‘a period of solitary and silent reflection undertaken in isolation, usually while carrying out additional chores’.

‘Weird, but not the worst, I guess,’ Kit whispers in my ear.

I nod as Miss Bunnock talks on. At least if she’s droning on, I don’t have to work out what on earth to say to Kit.

‘Dinner is served at 5.30 pm promptly,’ Miss Bunnock continues. ‘Though tonight’s meal has been delayed until six due to Evie’s late arrival.’ My cheeks flush
as everyone looks at me. Miss Bunnock clears her throat. ‘Free time after dinner, then it’s bedtime at eight-thirty and—’

‘
What?
’ Pepper shrieks. ‘You’re having a laugh, aren’t you? And why’s dinner so early?’

‘Yes, Miss,’ Josh adds drily. ‘It’s so early it’s practically breakfast.’

Everyone except Kit and Miss Bunnock giggles.

‘Bedtime at eight-thirty with lights out at nine sharp,’ Miss Bunnock carries on.

‘But . . . but it’ll still be
daylight
at 9PM,’ Pepper protests. Beside her, Josh groans.

‘Not for long,’ Miss Bunnock announces, as if making the sun set earlier is part of her programme for us. ‘By next week, sunset in this part of Scotland will be
before
nine. Anyway, you need the sleep; you will be rising early ready for morning meditation at six-thirty. Our aim is to send you back to your parents in a healthy sleeping pattern.’

This time everyone groans.

‘The rota for chores is pinned up in the kitchen. So it only remains for me to welcome you and to urge you to make the most of your stay here.’ She pauses. ‘Any
questions?’

Silence. Kit is still standing next to me. I can feel his presence even though I’m not looking at him. As Miss Bunnock walks out, I glance around. He’s gazing out of the window. How
can I get him to talk to me again? I clear my throat and point to the smart-looking watch on his wrist. It’s black, with three interconnecting faces and lots of dials.

‘Is that watch your luxury item?’ I ask, my cheeks burning.

‘It is,’ he says. I’m suddenly aware that his accent is very upper class. ‘But it’s much more than a watch. It has a compass, a heart-rate monitor and it’s
waterproof as well.’

‘That’ll come in handy if you fall off the rocks and can’t work out which direction to swim back to shore in,’ Josh drawls, a big grin on his face. ‘Where
d’you get it, Scout Camp?’

I smile too – there’s something infectious about Josh’s grin – but Kit bristles. I suddenly realise the others are watching us. I take in their faces one by one: Pepper,
all cheekbones and raised eyebrows, pale, shy Anna and the third, sandyhaired boy whose name I don’t yet know. I turn to Josh. He looks cool in his black clothes. Fun. I’m sure he
didn’t mean to upset Kit.

‘The watch was a present from my brother actually,’ Kit says with a scowl. He turns to me. ‘What’s your luxury, Evie?’

All five of them look at me. I gulp, the heat rising in my face. How can I tell them about Irina’s ballet shoes? The last thing I want is to explain how Andrew and Janet kept her a secret
from me for all those years. But if I mention the shoes it’s bound to lead to all sorts of questions.

My mind races over various alternative items, discarding each one as either improbable or impractical. Maybe my clothes? No, I could hardly pretend my sweatpants or pumps are luxuries I’ve
chosen to keep. And I don’t have any jewellery.

I’m out of time. And options.

What should I say?

‘Go on, Evie,’ Pepper urges. ‘My luxury’s a picture of my horse and Anna’s is her old teddy bear. What’s yours?’

Her bright dark eyes sparkle with curiosity. Beside her, Kit’s expression is softer, but just as interested.

I take a deep breath. There’s no getting out of it. I am going to have to tell the truth. ‘Er, my real mum’s ballet shoes,’ I say.

Oh God, how pathetic does that sound?

‘Your
real
mum?’ Josh smiles again. He has a narrow face, made longer by his shoulder-length hair, and the palest of pale blue eyes. Is he laughing at me? I don’t
think so. There’s genuine warmth in his expression. I can’t stop my eyes flickering over to Kit. He just looks embarrassed.

‘Your mum’s a
ballet dancer
?’ Pepper says with a frown. ‘Wouldn’t she be a bit old for that? Or did she have you when she was, like, fourteen?’

My insides tighten. ‘Er, actually, she
used
to be a dancer. She, um, died in a road accident when I was little. That’s why I said my “real” mum. I was actually
brought up by my dad and his wife . . .’ I tail off. It feels odd referring to Janet as Dad’s wife rather than as ‘Mum’. Though technically it’s the truth.

The others stare at me. I can tell they don’t know what to say.

‘My mum died when I was a baby too,’ Anna stammers, her face as red as mine. ‘But she was a secretary. I think it’s lovely you have her ballet shoes. My mum died in a
house fire so all her possessions were burned with her.’

Another silence. I stare at her. She clearly feels as selfconscious as I do. In that moment, it strikes me that here, where no one knows me, I don’t need to explain that Andrew and
Janet lied to me for years and that I’ve only just found out about Irina. Here I can simply talk about her as my mother. Like Anna just did.

‘O-kay,’ Pepper interjects. ‘I think we should stop there, before this conversation gets any more depressing. Can you guys
believe
this place?’

‘No, man. It sucks big time,’ Josh grunts.

I glance at Anna. She offers me a bashful smile. I nod to show I’m grateful she has shared such a big confidence, that I understand how daunting it is to tell people something so
private.

‘I think it could be much worse,’ Kit says reasonably. ‘OK, so there’s a crazy bedtime and we have to do chores, but we get lots of free time too.’

‘Total Boy Scout,’ Josh mutters, though too quietly for Kit to hear.

Another beeping alarm sounds. ‘Dinner,’ Pepper groans. ‘This is like a police state.’

‘Yeah, and I bet the food’s rubbish too,’ Josh adds.

But it isn’t. It’s delicious – huge plates of tender meat, a tray of perfectly roasted vegetables plus a fluffy baked potato each and a big bowl of salad (no boring lettuce)
that has grapes in it. Even better is the massive chocolate cake, oozing with fresh cream, ready for dessert. A grey-haired woman, short and round, like a barrel padded with cushions, is bustling
about, setting down plates at the end of a long trestle table as we check out the rota of chores pinned on the wall above. I don’t appear to have any jobs tonight, though Pepper announces
with theatrical horror that she and I are down to clean all the bathrooms tomorrow afternoon.

‘Can’t wait,’ I sigh as we tuck into the food. We’re in the kitchen, another bare-walled, stone-floored room, though this one is as warm as the library with a big oven
that blazes out heat.

‘There you go.’ The woman who has served us steps back. ‘I’m Mrs Moncrieff, the housekeeper here. You’re to come to me if you need anything house-related and, of
course, I’ll be overseeing clearing up, cleaning and food prep.’

I glance at Pepper.

‘I hate chopping things,’ she whispers with a grimace. ‘In fact, I hate doing
anything
in the kitchen. When I’m older, I’m only ever eating
takeaways.’

‘I like baking,’ Anna says shyly. She takes the chair between Josh and Kit. Pepper and I sit down opposite, next to the sandyhaired boy.

‘I’m Samuel and I like eating,’ he says, staring down at his plate. It’s the first thing I’ve heard him say.

‘Steady there, Samuel,’ Josh chuckles, ‘we all like eating.’

‘So I’ll leave you to enjoy your dinner,’ Mrs Moncrieff carries on. She points to the rota pinned to the wall. ‘Which of you are Anna and Kit? You’re on clearing-up
duty tonight.’

Anna raises her hand.

‘Yeah, that’s me,’ Kit says gruffly.

‘Very good,’ Mrs Moncrieff says. ‘Everything you need is by the sink.’

I look down at my food, flashing with a sudden, stupid jealousy that it’s not me who’s going to be helping with Kit. I blow out my breath, hoping no one has noticed.

Mrs Moncrieff bustles out and the six of us carry on eating. Pepper and Josh do most of the talking . . . their conversation revolves around all the things they hate about Lightsea so far.

‘Going to bed before it’s dark and all that cleaning,’ Pepper moans.

‘I’ll have no time to play my guitar,’ Josh grumbles.

‘What kind of things do you play?’ Pepper asks.

‘Indie stuff mostly, some of my own songs,’ Josh says modestly. ‘I can play some later if you like?’

He looks at me as he speaks. ‘That’d be cool,’ I say.

‘Yeah, totally,’ Pepper says. ‘Anything to break the monotony. Can you believe no phones and no Wi-Fi?’

‘And no TV,’ Josh adds.

‘Or even radio, so no sports scores,’ Kit says, looking up. A faint line of freckles runs over the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes are ringed in dark brown.

It’s hard to tear my gaze away, his face is so perfect, but I force myself to look at Samuel who is sitting beside me. He hasn’t said anything since that rather bizarre announcement
that he liked eating. He’s holding something small and metallic in his hand, flicking it over and over between his fingers.