Page 22 of The Beast's Heart

The walk takes me through the estate gardens and between fragrant pine trees, up a rocky path. The wind sings through the canopy and the air is thick with birdsong. It’s all really quite lovely. I round a corner and find myself facing the lake that marks the edge of the property. The view across it is achingly beautiful. It’s all rolling green hills and clumps of trees with not another creature in sight. The icy breeze cuts across the water, rippling its still surface. I pull my checkered scarf a bit tighter around my neck. Not long ago, this lake would have been frozen.

I continue onward, huffing and puffing as the incline grows steeper. Eventually, I reach the summit. I can make out the house poking up amidst a sea of trees and, more to the point, bars on my phone. Just as Ray promised.

A flood of messages comes through.

Zane

Did you get there safe? Please call.

Hey, if you’re not in a Scottish prison, now would be a good time to let us know.

Your dad’s worried. You know this isn’t good for his health.

Lizzy

What the fuck? Dad told me what happened. What are you thinking? Call me.

Joe

Bro

Emily

OMG is this for real?

Joe

Bro!

Emily

Lizzy just posted in the family chat that you stole Dad’s identity? I want to know everything. CALL ME.

Charlotte

Johnny, is everything okay? I just heard what you did for dad. That’s so brave. And honestly, kind of stupid. Paul knows a good lawyer if you need one.

Joe

Bro! Did your balls finally drop? This is the best thing I’ve ever heard.

Zane

I keep trying to ring you, but it cuts straight to voicemail. Sebastian looked it up and apparently you get spotty reception out there (the worst reception in the whole of the UK—Really, you couldn’t have chosen the place with the second worst reception in the UK to disappear to??) Anyway, It occurred to me that maybe you haven’t received any of these messages and you’re not just being an asshole and ignoring me. They’ll probably all pop up at once when the winds change or some shit. So I’m going to keep sending you daily updates about your dad, okay? And when you get somewhere with reception, you’re going to call me, okay? Okay.

I scroll through the promised updates. All good. Dad’s angry and hurt but physically fine. With a deep breath. I hit call.

“Jonathan, thank fuck,” Zane answers on the second ring.

I stick the freezing fingers of my free hand into my coat pocket. The wind is sharp against my skin. “How’s Dad?”

“How’s Dad?I’ve been picturing you buried on a Scottish moor. Where are you?”

“I’m, uh, on a hill. It was the only place I could get reception.”

I hear him repeating this information, with a few more curse words sprinkled in. Sebastian must be home. Of course he’s home. They’re in lockdown together.I wonder how that’s going. Way to put a strain on a new marriage.

Zane says to me, “Your dad’s fine. I mean… emotionally, I don’t know. But he hasn’t had any fits or anything. He’s worried about you.”

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