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A moment later, Thea was pushing him into the van. Winston wasn’t making it easy. His tail was thumping furiously as he jumped all over Callum, who took a seat in between Edward and Fergus. Winston licked his face and tried to get on his lap. Thea said, ‘Quick, let’s get out of here!’
Callum turned to look at her wide-eyed.
‘What?’
‘I just remembered something from my childhood.’
Callum thought back to recent events as everyone got themselves settled for the journey. What Callum had remembered from his childhood was leaving this place, being bundled into the back of a van just like this one when he was a small child. The memory aligned perfectly with what his mother had told him had happened, and how it had come to be that he, his mother, and Henry had lived together as a family.
When Callum had left Mabel at the train station and returned to Scotland, the first thing he had done was to turn up at his mother’s house to confront her. Unsurprisingly, she’d broken down, unprepared for the fact that he’d discovered the truth, but incredibly relieved that the secret she’d kept from him for so many years was finally out in the open.
She’d told him about the day she’d finally summoned the courage to leave her loveless marriage and take her five-year-old child with her. She had known that if she didn’t do it covertly, her husband might not be able to stop her from leaving, but he would prevent her from taking their child with her.
It had turned out that her ticket out of there, that place in the middle of nowhere, had been in the shape of a yellow VW campervan and a man called Henry, a collector of rare books, who often visited her husband. She told Callum that she’d always looked forward Henry’s visits. He was kind, and caring. And it wasn’t long before she was falling in love with a married man.
Of course, she had known they could never be together – he loved his wife so very much – but would he help her, and her son, escape the place? And so, one blustery October day, Callum had been bundled into the back of this very van, two suitcases next to him on the back seat, and they’d sped away down this drive, never to return.
Callum looked out of the window at the house as Thea pulled the van door closed. That was the last time he’d set eyes on the place until his mother had told him who his father was, and that his real surname was MacFadden. Callum had swiftly returned to meet his father here. It turned out that he’d given up the bottle years earlier when his wife and child had disappeared, realising his behaviour had been abhorrent. He had stayed sober from that day forward, knowing it was his only chance of getting them back. He’d spent years looking for them, but to no avail.
Callum’s mother told him that Henry, ever the gentleman, had helped her find somewhere to live – the council house in Edinburgh where Callum had grown up – and had visited often in the first few years while on his travels. In those early years in Edinburgh, when Callum had asked after his father, she’d lied to him, and told him it was Henry. And for some reason, in their house, in those early years Callum never called HenryDad. He had always just been Henry. His mother had told her neighbours that her husband was a travelling book salesman.
Then, one day, fate had stepped in – in the form of a boy racer at the end of their street, who’d driven straight into Henry’s van as he turned out of their cul de sac after one of his visits. She’d heard the almighty crash at the bottom of their street, and, along with the other neighbours, had gone running out to see what had happened. She accompanied Henry to hospital, and the doctors had told her she could stay with her husband overnight if she wished. Thankfully a neighbour had looked after Callum while she was at the hospital.
And so the lie had begun, and it continued through a quirk of fate – as a result of a head injury, Henry had lost his memory. The doctors said he’d regain it bit by bit, with the help of his nearest and dearest – his wife and children. Except that Henry’s wife and children were hundreds of miles away in Suffolk and had no clue about the accident.
The woman sitting at his hospital bedside, and who took him home with her to live as if he were her husband, was going to spend the next twenty-five years worried he would remember his other family. She knew that if or when that happened, he’d never forgive her. She knew she must do everything in her power to convince him that the head injury had muddled his memories. After all, she had photos of the three of them from birthdays over the years, and from the weeks leading up to Christmas each year, when he’d always popped in on his travels. Henry never realised that those old photos, which appeared to depict a happy family of three, did not show the truth.
Callum recalled her words.I did love him, Callum. And I still do. I didn’t want to be alone. Can you ever forgive me?When she’d asked that of him, Callum’s immediate reaction had beenHow can I?She’d stolen someone else’s husband, and two children’s father. Now he also knew that she hadn’t supported his choice of career all because she was trying to keep her secret. And then he realised it wasn’t just his career in the limelight that had been a problem; as Callum had grown older, he had begun to look more and more like his father, the man she hated – the Scottish laird. It was little wonder she hadn’t wanted to see her own son and had discouraged his visits home. Callum knew it was more than that; his face might stir a memory in Henry of the laird and of the house he’d once visited regularly.
‘I knew if I told Henry the truth, about his other family, I’d lose him, Callum. And as much as it broke my heart that I was lying to him, I just couldn’t risk it.’
When she’d said that, of course Callum had thought of Thea. Despite everything, he’d empathised with his mother’s predicament. He’d found himself in similar circumstances, knowing that if he told Thea he’d been deceiving her, he’d lose her.
And then his mother had said, ‘Henry got ill with early onset dementia, which they presume was as a result of the head injury he’d suffered. I’m ashamed to say I was utterly relieved that all my fears of him remembering his past life were over. That’s how it was to begin with, but as things progressed, to my utter astonishment, the memories of his past life started flooding back. After so many years, it was the last thing I expected to happen. Trying to convince him those people didn’t exist and were all in his imagination just made him agitated, and so hard to live with, and that’s when I had to send him to that home.’
Callum did wonder why she’d put his father in the home when he wasn’t really a danger to himself or her, and the disease had not advanced to the point where he needed constant care. It had always baffled him, and he had thought she’d just wanted to get rid of him from under her feet so that she had the house to herself, and could spend time with her friends. Now, he knew the truth.
‘Right let’s go!’ Jack said, interrupting Callum’s thoughts.
Beth said, ‘We passed a hotel not far from here with vacancies, according to the sign.’
Jack glanced at his wife. ‘Good idea. It’s getting late and we need to find somewhere to have an evening meal and get Fergus to bed. Then we can do the drive home tomorrow. Let’s hope they’ve got enough free rooms for us all.’
Jack already had the engine running. He was just putting the van into gear when Edward exclaimed, ‘Wait! What about Henry?’
Callum looked at him. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Edward, Henry’s best friend.’
Somehow they managed to shake hands in the cramped confines of the back of the van. Callum said, ‘Now, what about Henry?’
Edward said, ‘Isn’t he here?’
Callum frowned. ‘Why do you think he’s here?’
Jack said, ‘Because we took Thea to see her father in the care home, and they said he’d absconded, in a taxi. We thought he’d come here to see you, Callum.’
Callum shook his head, looking worried. ‘He’s definitely not here.’
