The Star Child (The Star Child Series) (6 page)

***

The cab jostled me from my reverie as it pulled up to the curb, rousing me from my musings.

“Here we are son,” the cabbie announced, hopping out and setting my bags on the curb. “Fourteen quid,” he continued, holding out a ruddy palm, not bothering to look my way.

Climbing out of the cab, I paid the fare and grabbed my bags, slinging a gray and orange backpack roughly over my shoulder. “Thanks for the ride.”

I looked up at the townhouse directly in front of me before jogging up the steps. After a butler answered the door, I was immediately ushered into Alistair’s study.

“Kellen, good to see you.” Alistair St. James jumped to his feet and ran over to hug me.

I stepped into his embrace and patted him on the back. “Hey Grandfather.”

With a glance around the room, I took in the familiar flowery chintz and wood paneling. Alistair called this room “The Floral Explosion”. His reasoning was that any room with that many different kinds of flowers in it deserved a title that began with the word “The”.

However much it was not to his liking, his beloved, now late wife, Imogen, had decorated it. There wouldn’t be redecoration anytime soon, if at all. Alistair gestured to a seat on a beige-colored lowboy next to a short, squat, mahogany table.

Despite the wide array of pastels, the room was comfortable, as was the home itself, like putting on a favorite pair of socks. All who graced its doorstep were welcome, regardless of the fancy London address. Fortunately, breakfast had been laid out and my stomach, constantly in search of any chocolate or Pepsi products, growled insistently in the absence of both.

“Tuck in.” Alistair reached for a fork and pulled a tray closer to him. He usually preferred that we eat in the dining room, but he chose the setup for me. He was trying to make me feel at home and I wasted no time taking him up on his offer of breakfast.

We ate while I updated Alistair on the graduation ceremony and Stephen’s absence. Alistair had been sick and unable to attend, but he listened intently now, nodding in all the right places.

“I’m sorry that no one was there for you, Kellen. I really wanted to be.” His eyes held disappointment for himself and I was sure for his son.

After I’d plowed through three platefuls of eggs and ham, two lukewarm Pepsis, and some biscuits, my outlook seemed much brighter. My stomach full, I moved to a more comfortable divan and lay back against the fluffy cushions, content.

“It’s nothing. Come on, Alistair, I’m used to this by now.” This was only partially true, but there was no point in upsetting him.

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“When has it ever been right, Alistair?”

***

I stayed with Alistair for about a week, only delaying the inevitable. There was a house along the Irish coast that was waiting for me. And, as my dreams kept telling me, it was time to go home.

On the last day of my visit, we ate a casual lunch before Alistair got up and went to his desk to retrieve Gran’s will. Since I was her sole heir and Alistair the executor of her estate, there was no need to include Stephen or Roger. Reading Gran’s will would make her departure more real to me, so I wasn’t looking forward to this.

Alistair sat back in his seat with a sigh and arranged the papers in front of him. He locked his gaze with mine. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” His smile seemed insincere and he appeared at that moment much older than his sixty-five years.

Clearing my throat, I sat up straighter, nodding as I did so, unable to give any further consent. My left hand gripped the pillows until my knuckles turned white. My fingers throbbed in response.

After some momentary shuffling of documents, Alistair went on to read the will in his brusque barrister-like manner. He discussed such things as property taxes and title transfer. These were terms that I vaguely understood, but I fought the urge to plug my fingers in my ears and shut my eyes the entire time. I’d never missed Gran more.

It was simple, I thought, as I listened to Alistair run through all of the details. Gran had had very few expenses, and her estate paid those that did exist. Alistair had already taken care of this, so everything was fairly cut and dried.

The land and the house had been given to me, although they were in trust until I reached twenty-four years of age. Until that time, Alistair would oversee everything and keep an eye on the funds for me. I didn’t have any plans to sell Gran’s home. It had been more of a home to me than my own had been; there would be nothing to gain by getting rid of it now. There was already more than enough money in my account to get by on.

Everything in the house was mine now as well. I’d have the rather daunting task of sorting through Gran’s memories, something else that I was not looking forward to. It would only bring more painful reminders that I would never hear Gran’s voice again, see her face. Touching those things would be like ripping my heart out.

Alistair handed everything over to me to review. Getting up from his chair, he went to find someone to witness my signature. After a few moments, they returned to the room and the young man went to wait in a corner until I was ready.

Both gentlemen waited patiently as I read through each line of the paperwork, though the silence in the room was overwhelming as they waited for me to finish. Alistair didn't move from his seat until I looked up and handed the signed stack back to him.

“What's next?” I expected some sort of red tape to deal with. Whether interference from Stephen or some government restrictions, I assumed that there would be more to do.

“Well, Kellen, that’s about it. What’s next is up to you.” He handed me a large manila envelope and a set of keys.

“What about Stephen? I’m still a minor, after all. What if he tries to force me to come back?”

“I’ve started the paperwork that will make you an emancipated minor. It will tie Stephen up for a year, easily. In the meantime, let’s just say you’re studying abroad.”

“Are you okay with me living alone in a foreign country?”

Alistair laughed. “Kellen, you’ve been on your own for a long time, grown up a lot faster than any child your age should have to. I think you can handle the cottage on your own. However, if you need me, I expect you to pick up the phone.”

His voice was kind, sympathetic, as he continued. “I’ve included a few extra things for you to review.” He nodded to the envelope in my hand. “There’s a letter from Gran in that, but also one from your mother. I hope that you’ll take the time to read both.”

I didn’t speak. My heart was pounding at the mere idea of anything from my mother being made so readily available. However, I set those emotions aside and allowed myself a small smile as I turned to put the manila envelope and set of keys into my bag. Zipping it back up, I realized that I didn’t feel the sense of relief that I’d expected. Instead, I was overwhelmed by a sense of sadness at the finality.

CHAPTER FOUR

GRAN’S HOUSE

“Kid, we're here. Wake up.” The driver pulled to a stop. Somewhere in the corner of my mind, I heard him get out of the front seat to take my bags out of the trunk, stomping on the gravel road as he walked.

A yawn escaped me and I rolled my head in slow circles, peering out from the window into the small garden that wrapped around the cottage. It was littered with flowers in every color of the rainbow. With no skills or knowledge of plants, I sighed, resigned to the knowledge that I'd probably kill them within the week.

The exterior of the house was whitewashed brick, the roof slate. Beyond the cottage, I could hear the crash of the sea against the rocks. The entire perimeter was surrounded by a stone wall, which identified the property’s barriers and kept out most unwanted livestock. Most of it, anyway. There was a small cow grazing in the yard that I didn't think belonged there. I'd have to deal with him or her eventually, but one step at a time.

It was around dinnertime and my stomach grumbled. The smell of the salt air always made me feel hungry, for some reason.

The sun was slowly starting to set beyond the hills; it would be dark soon. I was immediately anxious to get inside and settled, afraid of getting stuck outside trying to figure out how to unlock the door in the dark.

There was a lonely feeling here; the nearest house was about a half mile away. The dramatic landscape haunted me; each mountain and ruin was a ghost peeking out at me. Gran had loved the solitude of it all and reveled in the aloneness. Although I’d probably love it for the same reasons, I couldn’t help but wish, as I had many times before, that I wasn't quite so on my own.

After paying the cab driver, I pulled the very modern-looking keys that Alistair had given me from my bag. At first they didn't seem to belong at the cottage, but I remembered that Stephen had had a new door installed at the house for security reasons in the prior year.
Why did he bother?
I smirked as I looked at my surroundings in the fading light. Surely no one would ever think to rob this little place.

The key slid easily into the lock and I walked into the small entryway, taking off my coat in the process. My hand paused in mid-air as I went to hang my coat on the hook by the door. Gran's work coat was still hanging there, as if Gran had only just entered the house. Stephen was such a Type-A personality that I assumed he’d have handled cleaning out her things already. Then reality hit me. As the sole heir, that was my responsibility. There was a lot of work ahead of me.

Slowly, I walked through the house, turning on lights as I went. Out of sheer luck, the utilities weren’t turned off. As I passed a warming radiator, I took a moment to stand in front of it as the faintest traces of heat warmed my skin. Gran had often chosen to build a peat fire for warmth, mostly for sentimental reasons.
Thank God I wouldn’t have to figure that out.

A persistent tapping sound turned my attention to the window at the front of the house. A light rain had begun to fall, pattering against the windows and striking the roof. Gran’s cottage had always lost power at the drop of a hat and I prayed now that we wouldn't have a storm. Despite my book smarts, I was still a seventeen-year-old who’d never lived alone. The last thing I needed was a wrestling match with my own fears in the dark Irish countryside.

As I walked into the kitchen, I noted that it was a contradiction of itself. On one hand, there was aged brick flooring that had clearly seen better days, along with a wide open hearth for cooking. On the other, there were also several stainless steel appliances that functioned well, but looked out of place.

On the wooden kitchen table there was a flowered tablet with the heading “To Do” printed daintily across the top. Gran was a list-maker, like me. Grabbing the pen next to it, I made a note on the first page to find out how utilities worked in Ireland, along with whom I needed to call if the power went out. I didn't imagine that twenty-four-hour-service was an option.

My glance shifted to another note on the table, one that I hadn’t seen earlier. It was from one of Gran's neighbors who wanted to let me know that she’d been in to clean out the refrigerator and “tidy up a bit”.

I shuddered, trying not to imagine what she would have found. There’d probably been a bunch of rotting, smelly food in the fridge. However, as I glanced around again, I took in a pleasant lemony smell and noted the gleaming tables and countertops. It made me smile to think that someone cared about my well-being here.

Thankfully, the note also indicated that there were groceries in the fridge, which had been billed to Gran's account. There was only the one little shop in town. It was poorly stocked, but I assumed that she’d have given me some essentials.

Putting on a kettle for tea, I opened the fridge. Happily, I noted several covered dishes inside with instructions for reheating. The closest to the front would do nicely. The spoon dug into it easily and I placed some on a plate before putting it into the microwave and firing it up.

After eating two generous portions and enjoying a cup of tea, I cleaned up and set off to explore the rest of the house. The flowered tablet came with me, and I used it to indicate which things should be removed and which should stay. Most I’d sell or donate. This systematic approach might have seemed callous or cold, but the action of planning calmed me. It made me feel more adult, and more in control of my situation because I was taking action.

I continued my punch list upstairs, moving through each of the two handkerchief-sized bedrooms and the small bathroom. When I entered Gran’s bedroom, I noticed a book by the bed and mistakenly assumed it was a Bible. Closer examination told me that it was her journal.

“I’m not going there.” I spoke to the empty room, touching my hand to the front of the leather volume but resisting the temptation to open it. Although I was sure she’d want me to read it, I wasn't ready yet.

I headed out to the conservatory at last, smiling. Completely enclosed by glass, such a modern luxury seemed bizarre in such an antiquated place. Gran had spent a lot of her time out there, looking out over the horizon.

***

The sky was an inky black now and it was impossible to see anything, yet I opened the french doors leading out to the backyard anyway and listened to the sea for a few moments. It was unsettling, the darkness, as not even a single star lit the sky. My eyes took their time adjusting to my surroundings before I noticed the wooden steps to my left that led down the cliffs and to the shore below. They led directly to my childhood refuge: the cove.

I pushed back a wave of emotion as I realized that Gran would never again chide me for being down there in the cove by myself. We were cheated out of time like a gambler cheated at cards.

Leaving the house, I walked to the top of the steps and looked down. The way was burned into my brain. Grandda had built those steps years ago when he came home to find his new bride trying to scale down the cliffs with a rope. She’d wanted to swim in the sea and that was the most efficient way to get down to it.