SilverMoonLight (SilverMoonSaga Book 1) (2 page)

Ethan
and Bree lived with their children near Portree, the largest town on the Isle
of Skye. Luckily, after all my travelling, we were only half an hour’s drive
away from the house. I pretended to be asleep during the journey, not feeling
in the mood for talking. It was only as we drove through Portree that I decided
that it was time to wake up, giving an exaggerated yawn. Bree looked around at
me. »We’re almost there.«

I
stepped out of the car and peered at the pretty house in the early morning
light. It looked so idyllic; they probably didn’t even lock the front door at
night here. The complete opposite of my former life, I thought to myself. The
grey natural stone of the outer walls was covered with thick climbing roses,
still bare except for the tough, thick thorns. Narrow steps led up to a simple
dark green front door. The garden stretched out all around the house,
interwoven with a tangle of gravel-coated paths, and there were countless
bushes and plants which would clearly take over the garden in spring.

The
house was situated on the outskirts of Portree, but I immediately noticed its
phenomenal view of the town’s harbor. A quick internet search had informed me
that Portree was the capital on the island, but that was all I’d been able to
find out. To me, it seemed tiny. That could be a good thing. I very much
doubted there was even a cinema here, let alone a theatre or music concerts.

The
house and garden were surrounded by softly sloping meadows. Through the fog,
which had settled on the grass like grey slime, I could just make out a forest
in the distance.

Ethan
opened the trunk of the car and took out my baggage. It wasn’t much; the
contents of my entire life so far fit into two travel bags. Pretty pathetic
really, I thought to myself, watching the brown bags swinging back and forth in
Ethan’s hands. I walked slowly towards the house behind Bree, clutching onto my
backpack as if I were drowning and it were a lifejacket

We
walked into the house and stood in a small hallway. Behind it, a larger room
came into view, the living room, Bree informed me. The scent of lavender and
vanilla hung in the air. At the face side of the room was a large open fireplace.
I wandered over to look at the photos lined up on the mantelpiece. The photos
were of children, presumably my cousins.

»I’d
suggest you sleep down here in the small bedroom for tonight,« Bree said to me
softly. »You and Amelie should get to know each other first, then you can
decide whether you want to have your own room or share with her.«

I
could have given her the answer right away; I needed my own space. But I
decided to wait a little before saying anything.

I
gazed around at the room she had led me into—the old bed with bordeaux-red
bedding embroidered with white, the walls with striped wallpaper in pale beige
and dark red tones. Beneath one window stood a chest of drawers, and beneath
another a small desk. I liked the room instantly. Bree pulled the cream-colored
curtains shut.

»This
room used to be your mother’s. We restored the furniture and put up new
wallpaper.« She stroked her fingers over the curtains.

»Come
on, I’ll show you the bathroom.« On the way down the corridor, she opened a
small cupboard and handed me some towels and washcloth. Then she sat down on
the edge of the bath and looked at me. Feeling tired and longing to be left
alone, I returned her gaze as patiently as I could.

»We
hope you’ll soon feel at home here.« To my surprise, those were her only words.
I nodded hesitantly and looked on with relief as she left the bathroom. Then I
showered, enjoying the warmth of the water. Afterwards, I combed my unruly,
long brown hair and looked at myself in the mirror, searching my face for any
visible trace of what had happened. I looked pale; that was nothing new. But
there were dark shadows beneath my silver-grey eyes. I shrugged, then slipped
into my pajamas, a comforting reminder of home. I tiptoed down the hallway,
back into my room, quickly stuffing my stonewashed jeans, sweatshirts and
T-shirts into the small chest of drawers. Once in bed, I stared at the ceiling
and brooded over what had become of my life. It didn’t take long for the
memories of my mom to bring tears to my eyes, just as they had almost every
single night of this past week. I pulled the cold, unfamiliar blanket up to the
tip of my nose and cried myself to sleep.

When
I woke up the next morning, the first thing I heard was the twitter of the
birds. Thin rays of sunlight were stretching their way in through the open
window. For just a moment, the immense boulder of grief weighing down on my
chest didn’t seem as heavy as usual. But the feeling didn’t last long, for the
birdsong was soon drowned out by voices calling through the house. I heard a
car engine start up outside. Unsettled by the new surroundings, I stretched my
feet out under the blanket and sat up. I took my time getting dressed, then
contemplated what I should do next: go down to the kitchen straight away, or
the bathroom first? At that moment, the bedroom door was flung open and two
little girls rushed in. They almost tumbled over one another in excitement.

»Emma?«
they cried out, practically in unison. They were like two peas in a pod; both
of them had long, red hair and identically delicate features. Their skin was
very pale, and each of their noses was saturated with at least twenty freckles.
Clearly they were my two little nine-year-old cousins, but I felt sure I would
never be able to tell them apart.

Seemingly
surprised at her own boldness, one of them stammered sheepishly: »Would you
like to have lunch with us?«

How
long had I been sleeping if it was already lunchtime? I hoped that hadn’t
seemed rude. On the other hand, they could have woken me if they wanted to. I
decided not to over-think it.

»Dad
will be back from town soon with Amelie and Peter, and Mom said we should tell
you that lunch is nearly ready.«

As
I stood up, a little hand grasped mine. The other girl was looking up at me. »I’m
Hannah,« she whispered. So the bolder one must be Amber, I thought to myself.

Down
in the kitchen, Bree greeted me with a smile. »Ah, so I see you’ve already met
the babies of the family? They insisted on waking you and I had a job to stop
them coming in earlier. We wanted to let you sleep in.«

I
thanked her with a smile.

»Sit
down here. Would you like coffee or tea?« she asked, nudging me towards a chair
at the huge oak wood table that stood in the center of the kitchen.

»Coffee,
please,« I replied, watching Bree as she prepared lunch. She set the table and
busied herself frying the meat and potatoes and chopping vegetables. The scent
of the freshly brewed coffee was so enticing that I drank it too quickly and
burnt my tongue. As she worked, Bree gave the twins little tasks to make sure
they didn’t pester me with questions.

»Can
I help at all?« I asked hesitantly.

»No.«
She shook her head with a smile. »Stay there and drink your coffee. I’m nearly
done.«

Without
meaning to, I began to compare Bree with my own mother. Domestic was the last
word I would ever have used to describe my mom. We had moved around a lot
because she could never stand to be in one apartment for too long, and she had
always worked long hours. I used to spend most of my free time with friends or
swimming. But precisely because of that, I had really enjoyed every moment she
spent with me. And even though I’d always had the feeling that she was hiding
something from me, I still used to share every single one of my secrets with
her.

»Bree,«
I began, still a little hesitant at calling her by her first name. She turned
around to me.

»Yes,
sweetheart?«

»It’s
about the room. If you and Ethan don’t mind, I’d like to stay there.« I looked
down at the table and bit my lower lip in embarrassment. »I like it, and I like
having my own space.« I rotated the empty coffee cup around in my hands.

»That’s
fine with us; I was just worried it might be too small for you. I’m really glad
you like it.«

So
that was sorted then. I felt relieved.

»Is
it okay if I put a few pictures up?« I asked, feeling bolder now. »Nothing
major. I brought a few drawings with me, as mementos.« I fell silent.

»Of
course, dear. Did you paint them yourself?« Instead of waiting for an answer,
she just chatted away. »Peter draws as well. His pictures are wonderful, in my
opinion at least,« she announced proudly. The twins rolled their eyes and tried
to suppress their sniggers. »I’m sure he’d take you with him sometime, up to
the cliffs, if you’d like that.«

We
were interrupted by a noises at the front door. Amelie, Peter, and Ethan were
home. Amber took my hand and pulled me into the hallway, which was definitely
too small to fit five people in it at once. They were taking off their jackets
and shoes and tucking everything away in a huge cupboard.

»Hi,
Emma,« Amelie turned to me and held out her hand. She had long, intensely
curly, dark blond hair which was interwoven with lighter strands. She was
beautiful, just like her mother. Her skin shimmered like ivory as she looked at
me appraisingly with her big green eyes. Even though we were the same age, I
felt like a baby next to her.

»I’m
Peter,« said my other cousin, who was a year older than Amelie, shoving her to
the side and promptly receiving a shove in return. He grinned. »So you’re the
long-lost cousin,« he said impishly.

»And
you’re the artist,« I replied.

»Has
Mom betrayed all the family secrets already?« He pretended to look shocked. »Well,
I hope she said nice things.« Peter laughed and put an arm around my shoulders.

»Lunch
is ready,« called Bree at that moment.

It
was delicious. I hadn’t eaten for hours and was famished; the food on the plane
had been terrible.

»Emma,
tell us about Washington,« asked Peter.

I
shrugged. »What do you want to know?«

»What
did you do in your free time there? What school did you go to? What did you
study? Everything really.«

»Hang
on a minute,« called Bree, interrupting. »Peter, let her eat up first. You can
give her a tour of the house and garden afterwards, and then you could go up to
the cliffs and she can tell you whatever you want to know.« She winked at me
conspiratorially. »Don’t tell him too much though, he’ll tell his friends and
soon the whole town will know your business.«

Peter
scrunched up his napkin and threw it at his mother. »That’s not true, I take
secrets with me to the grave.« Everyone at the table burst out laughing.

»He’s
the school gossip,« Amelie informed me. »His innocent face always tricks the
girls into telling him their most closely guarded secrets.«

Peter
glared at his sister. But then Ethan interrupted the skirmish.

»I’d
like to welcome Emma into our family,« he said ceremoniously, banging a dessert
spoon against his glass. Feeling my cheeks start to go red, I looked at him
uneasily.

»I’ll
make it brief, I promise.«

I
relaxed a little, taking a deep breath.

»Emma,
we’re very pleased that you decided to come and live with us, even if the cause
is a very painful one, particularly for you and me. Unfortunately, the children
never got to meet your mother. I hope, or rather
we
hope, that you’ll
soon feel at home here and that we’ll be able to help you deal with things. So,
welcome to the family.«

Everyone
around the table clapped and looked at me, smiling.

»Thank
you.« I didn’t know what else to say, and was just glad that the thought of Mom
hadn’t instantly brought tears to my eyes.

After
lunch, Peter took me down to the sea. I studied him discretely. He had tied his
long brown hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He wasn’t good-looking
in the conventional sense, and certainly not beautiful like his sister. But he
seemed to radiate a fascinating sense of calm, and inspired a feeling of trust.
Now, I knew what Amelie had meant.

I
told him about Jenna and about my old school. He listened and didn’t interrupt
me once. I was glad that he didn’t ask me any questions about my mom. »Is there
a swimming pool here somewhere?« I asked. »I was on the swim team back home,
and I’d really like to carry on training.«

»Why
don’t you apply to join the team here? I think the tryouts are in a few weeks’
time. I’ll find out and let you know.«

Later,
as we sat on the edge of the craggy cliff, he looked at me curiously. »Why did
you and your mom never visit us?« The waves were roaring beneath us, crashing
against the rocks. I took a deep breath of the sea air. Even all the way up
here, tiny drops of salty water were splashing against my skin. The view was
unparalleled.

»It’s
beautiful here,« I said softly.

»It
is, but it’s dangerous too. You have to be careful not to go too close to the
edge, because the cliff can easily crumble and fall down into the sea,« he
said. »And we don’t want to lose you when you’ve only just arrived,« he said
with a twinkle. »I often come up here to draw, and I swear it looks different
every time,« he continued, staring out at the horizon.