Page 107 of A Scottish Country Escape

Cameron Lomax finally raised his troubled eyes. ‘I was jealous of him being with Linda and so I wanted to humiliate him. But he saved my life. He stopped my car from crashing…’

His voice faltered.

Elsa and I detected the regret and searing pain behind the words as he struggled to recall the tragic events from that day. ‘God only knows what I was thinking,’ he ground out, gripping Ingrid’s hand tighter. ‘I was an arrogant sod, trying to prove something to myself.’

I shuffled forwards on the sofa.

‘It should have been my car that crashed into the tree that day and not his.’

Chapter Sixty-Five

Ingrid clutched tighter at Cameron’s fingers. ‘You don’t have to say any more.’

He trailed his hands over hers, before looking back up at Elsa and me. The words sounded claggy in his mouth. ‘Ross died instantly. He saved me by using his own car to slow my out-of-control vehicle. But Ross hadn’t spotted a large puddle further down the road.’ He swallowed, his eyes clotted with the memory of it. ‘He lost control as he went through the water and struck a tree. We weren’t wearing seatbelts – people didn’t back then – and Ross broke his neck.’

Elsa spoke next. ‘I’m so, so sorry. What happened in the aftermath of the accident?’

Cameron’s guilt-ridden expression shifted towards the Glasgow landscape piercing the horizon. He took a few moments to sort the events in his head.

‘My late father was a respected police officer in Fir Haven, with many valuable connections. There were very few witnesses to what happened and so my father ensured the incident was recorded as a tragic accident. Nothing was attributed to me.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not proud of it.’

‘And Linda?’ I asked.

‘She never forgave me, and who could blame her? She was about to leave her house to come up and watch the race when the police arrived and told her what had happened.’

Cameron wrung his hands together. ‘I tried to tell her. I really did. But all she saw when I tried to apologise, when I tried to explain, was the man who killed her fiancé.’

The more Cameron revealed, the more the fog cleared.

I shifted beside Elsa.

‘Mr Lomax,’ I began, wondering what was the best way to frame this next question. ‘Please forgive me if this sounds strange, but were you ever aware of any stories about Linda or her family?’

Cameron’s gaze was loaded. ‘Are you referring to the rumours about her grandmother having some sort of ability and it being passed down to her?’ His mouth twisted at the corners. ‘Yes,’ he answered at length. ‘The town was awash with rumours about her and her family; that a couple of them were able to inflict curses on people.’ Then his expression turned cloudy again. He turned sideways to look at Ingrid. ‘There were some folks, of course, who dismissed it as utter rubbish and idle gossip.’

‘And how about you?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘She said my guilt would be punishment enough. And she was right.’

Once Cameron Lomax finished talking, we all sat for a moment in quiet reflection.

The anguish and remorse he was still carrying around with him was rivered on his ghostly face. ‘It was me who called that bloody race. And I only did it because I was a stupid, immature idiot.’ He struggled to look at us. ‘Linda told me that they had been planning on leaving Fir Haven together after the race.’

Elsa spoke beside me. ‘What if we told you that someone else was suffering now, because of what happened that night, and perhaps you might be able to do something about it?’

Cameron’s thick brows dipped. ‘Who is it? What’s happened?’

Elsa leant forwards; a pleading look on her face. ‘How would you feel about coming back to Fir Haven to talk to Linda? Perhaps you could tell her what you’ve just told us?’

We flinched as Cameron leapt to his feet. ‘I’m sorry but I’m not going back there. I can’t face it.’ He began to prowl up and down in front of us.

Ingrid rose and indicated their apartment door. ‘I think my husband has been more than helpful.’

‘But, Mr Lomax,’ I began, ‘a man is suffering. A good man. His career – his future – is in jeopardy because of this curse.’

Elsa’s expression was pleading. ‘I know this is going to sound ludicrous, but we think she’s put a curse on the crime writer Dexter Grayling.’ Elsa continued talking. ‘As Elle has just explained, his writing is his career and it is now at stake.’

‘I sympathise, I really do.’