Silent, A Revelation

Two Years Ago, Gavin

The storm had stopped, but not the downpour.  Back at the House, I went up to my room and got out of my wet stuff. I took another shower and put on a fresh t-shirt and trousers. Afterwards, I checked the times of trains from Preston on my phone.  I'd had enough of Steve. He'd taken an immediate dislike to me, and now I wanted to go home.

'Gavin?'  

A voice, definitely female.

***
'How do you know my name and room number?' I said when I opened the door.

'I looked you up in the Register,' the girl said. 'The office was empty.'

'Aren't student details meant to be confidential?'

'I suppose so.'

An awkward pause.  I decided to let it go for now. 'Did your friend see me?'

'The former Mayor?'  The blonde waitress shook her head. 'He didn't. I want to explain.'

'There's no need to.'  

But the girl interrupted with, 'I had a valid reason for talking to Arthur Harlesden. It's important.'

'Listen, I don't care,' I said, more angrily than intended.  'I can't deal with anymore of it. You don't understand – or maybe you do. This place is completely messing with my head.'

'Mine too.  But please listen to this. The former Mayor Arthur Harlesden is my late grandfather's first cousin. That's why we were talking. My real name's Lucy Harlesden and my parents were Douglas and Margaret Harlesden. They used to live in the flat downstairs. They were murdered ten years ago.'

'What?'  

'I'm Lucy Harlesden. If you study Brendon Harlesden's features, then look more closely at me, you will see that we're related.'

Was she making this up?  There was something very odd about her, and Philippa had already pointed her out to me?  But then, how would Philippa know about her?

'The fire,' the girl was saying. 'I've come back to find out what really happened, but for obvious reasons I've had to disguise my identity. I've been working in the kitchens. It's not a very nice job.'

'How old are you?'

'Seventeen.'

'Same here. Are you really Lucy Harlesden, the girl who survived?'

She nodded. 'I was seven then. My uncle and aunt adopted me after the fire and changed my name. I'm at Sixth Form. I'd do anything for a normal life.'

She started to say more, then stopped. We stood there in silence, watching each other.  
I just wanted to crash out and go to sleep…forget all this stuff.  It didn't really matter if the girl was Lucy Harlesden or not.  'Look, it's fine,' I said. 'I won't say anything to anyone. It's none of my business anyway.'

'It isn't fine. No one will tell me anything.'

'How do you mean?'

'Arthur's the biggest liar in the world.'

'The man you were arguing with?'

'He's a liar.'  

Outside, the sound of the rain grew in volume, reminding me of tropical swamps. The girl described how her friends in North Yorkshire had helped her get the job.  She told me they were planning to disrupt the final concert.

'Isn't that a bit out of order?' I said.

'Why?'

'I'd be furious if someone disrupted one of my performances. It's not on.'

An awkward silence.  For the first time, I picked up mild traces of a northern accent, although the girl sounded more Home Counties.  Like Agnes.

'I see your point of view,' she said, finally. 'I'd better tell my friends not to disrupt the concert then.'

'Why's Arthur a liar?' I said.

'I'd rather not say.'

'Why not?'

'You'll just have to take my word for it.'

'Right.'

'You haven't seen anything odd, have you?'  she said.

'Such as?'

'People acting suspiciously?  Agnes Harlesden?'

'Agnes Harlesden, the piano coach?'  

'Yes.'

'I don't understand what you're getting at.'

'Someone keeps coming into my room at the bungalow and shifting things, and I think it might be Agnes Harlesden.  Or Terence. Because they know I'm really Lucy Harlesden and they're afraid I'll work out the truth and ruin the reputation of the music school.'  

'No,' I said. 'I'm sure that isn't what's happening.  Agnes is really nice when you get to know her, and I haven't seen anyone acting suspiciously here.  Listen, I need –

'It is happening, actually, Gavin,' – so like Philippa, the way she said that –  'Agnes is playing games with my head. She wasn't even supposed to be here, but she returned suddenly, didn't she?  And that's when these disturbances started at the bungalow. The afternoon she returned.'  Again, so similar to Philippa.  The way her voice rose and fell. 'You don't believe me, do you?'  

'I don't know.'

'Fine,' she said.

'Hey, don't go. I need to talk to you.'

'I'll see you around, Gavin. Thanks for listening.'

She strode off, leaving me standing at the door of my room, listening to the steady patter of the rain outside.  In the distance, fresh thunder rumbled.