Page 53 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

Mason raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, you win. Take a look at these.’

‘What are they?’

‘Just have a read. I wasn’t sure whether you’re aware of this or not.’ He passed me his laptop.

My eyes scanned the headlines from the Port Starr Press. The date of the first article was 30 January 1950.

DISTURBANCE IN LOCAL PUB

Two local men had to be separated after a heated argument in Port Starr’s Seahorse pub.

George Summers (28) and Bernard Lapley (29) were allegedly discussing a joint business venture of an art gallery for the area, when their conversation suddenly became heated and threats were exchanged…

I stared, wide-eyed. ‘George Summers was my grandfather.’

‘I know.’

I shook my head, unable to process what I was reading. ‘I don’t understand this. I’d no idea he was ever involved with the Lapleys, let alone that he wanted to start an art gallery with one of them.’

Mason sank down next to me on the sofa. ‘There’s more. Look.’

I turned to the next article. This heading screamed, PORT STARR WEDDING INTERRUPTED BY LOVE RIVAL.

I peered at the date, which was 13 July 1951, my grandparents’ wedding anniversary.

A Port Starr wedding was the subject of controversy on Saturday, when the romantic proceedings were interrupted by an emotional outburst by the groom’s love rival.

The nuptials of Judith Cooke (25) and George Summers (29) …

‘This is my grandparents’ wedding,’ I gasped at Mason.

Mason inclined his dark head. ‘Keep reading.’

… were interrupted by the arrival of Bernard Lapley (30) who proclaimed his love for Miss Cooke and expressed his objection to the wedding.

Despite repeated requests from the congregation to leave, Mr Lapley refused to do so and was eventually escorted from the church by three of the groom’s male relatives.

I stared down at the words jumping up at me. ‘Bloody hell! I didn’t know about any of this.’

Mason surveyed me for a while from under his thick, dark brows. ‘Do you think your mum and dad knew about all this tension between the two families?’

‘Well, if they did, they’ve certainly never said anything to Caleb or me about it,’ I said, gesturing at the screen to emphasise the point.

Mason pointed. ‘Look at what else is there.’

‘God, as if this isn’t enough to be getting along with.’

With morbid fascination, I read on. Mason’s sitting room swam in front of my eyes. I felt as though I were half asleep, stuck in some weird other dimension.

I took a breath as he clicked on another page from the local newspaper archives. There was a compilation of headlines. They screamed up at me in bold black type.

PORT STARR ART GALLERY A NO GO

LOCAL BANK CLERK ACCUSED OF FINANCIAL IMPROPRIETY

LAPLEY PLANS FOR PORT STARR CASINO A GAMBLE TOO FAR

‘And that was just a selection,’ Mason said. ‘They make the Montagues and Capulets look normal.’