Secrets and Lies

I made sure both Phoebe and I were in bed at a reasonable hour Saturday night, although neither of us got to sleep right away. Instead I kept the subby redhead up a few more hours while I expressed my gratitude for her agreeing to forgo a quick plane ride in favour of a long day on the train.

Unfortunately that meant she was more than a little grumpy when I dragged her out of bed at eight o'clock sharp Sunday morning. Coffee helped a bit, as did a nice breakfast. The two of us were packed again and out the door by half past ten, for the short walk to our nearest train station.

The weather was fairly typical for late December, it was overcast with a cold wind, but the two of us were dressed appropriately. We'd both opted for comfy travel clothes again, but with warm winter jackets ontop.

The local service to Cardiff was a little crowded for a Sunday morning, although being just three days before xmas I assumed people were going last-minute shopping. Or heading off to visit family, or setting out on holiday or the sort. So that first leg of the trip was a little uncomfortable, but things got a lot nicer once we boarded our next train.

The second leg of our trip took just under an hour, but we spent that hour relaxing in a couple large cozy first-class seats. That got us to Temple Meads station in Bristol, where we transferred once again to our last train of the day. We'd be spending almost nine hours on that one, but like Feebs said we had a very nice first-class compartment for the trip. Although I shuddered to think what those tickets must have cost.

Our seats were comfortable enough it was easy to catch up on some of the rest we missed the night before. And while it was still travelling, it was very a very different kind of travel compared to spending all day behind the wheel of a car. So we ended up taking it easy for a while after leaving Bristol, until around two in the afternoon when we made our way to the cafe car for a light lunch.

A little while after we'd returned to our compartment Phoebe finally decided to strike up a conversation with me. She kept her voice down though as she commented, "So, fear of flying... I understand that's fairly common?"

"Yeah," I nodded slowly. "I've heard that."

The cute redhead hesitated a moment before asking, "Is that a life-long fear? Or... Actually never mind. If you'd rather not discuss it that's totally alright. I was just wondering -"

I grimaced but shook my head, "It's ok Feebs. I owe you an explanation."

"You really don't," she responded. "But if you're ok talking about it, then of course I'm curious. I'm always eager to learn more about the enigmatic mystery known as Trillium."

That last part came with a smile and a gently teasing tone, so I'd know she was trying to lighten the mood a bit. And I couldn't help smiling back, although that quickly faded.

"I've only flown once," I began, and the words came out quieter than I'd intended. "I was just a child, six years old going on seven. It all seemed like a grand adventure to me, even though weren't actually going anywhere exotic."

I sighed, "My dad sometimes had to travel for work, but I'm pretty sure this was a last-minute thing. It meant he was going to miss my birthday, so he and mom decided to make a family vacation out of it. Both Tommy and I were terribly excited. He was two and a half years older than me, and I thought the world of him. Anyways all four of us packed up and set off to spend ten days in Ireland. Except we never got there..."

My voice trailed off and I sighed, "I don't remember much of the crash. Only that it was dark and loud and absolutely terrifying. There was pain and screaming, then the next thing I knew it was daytime and I was in hospital."

By that point Phoebe had taken one of my hands into hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn't interrupt though, she just waited patiently for me to finish on my own time. It probably took me another minute or so before I was ready continue, and when I did the words came out just above a whisper.

"Nurses told me my mom was there in the same hospital as me. They wouldn't let me see her though," I mumbled softly. "And nobody said anything about my dad, or my brother. I thought that meant they'd been sent home, that they were ok. Then the next day my aunt and uncle came to see me. I remember Aunt Rose crying when she told me mom never woke up. And Uncle Mike broke the news that my dad and brother were gone too, they both died in the crash. I was one of the seventy that survived, mom and dad and Tommy were among the fifty who did not."

"Instead of celebrating my seventh birthday on vacation with my family I spent it alone in a hospital bed. By the time I'd recovered enough to be discharged they'd already had the funerals, and the house in London was sold. I never got to go home again. Instead all my things had been moved to a spare room in my aunt and uncle's flat in Manchester..."

My voice trailed off there, and Feebs responded by pulling me into a tight hug.

"Bloody hell Trillium," she whispered, "I'm so sorry. It's no wonder you don't want to get on another damned plane after going through all that."

I hugged her back, then after a few seconds I continued with a sad smile, "I actually tried once. Or, my aunt and uncle tried to get me on another plane. Not for a couple years though, I think they waited until I was about ten? They liked to holiday in Majorca every other year, so of course they tried to take me."

"We made it as far as the departure lounge," I sighed. "Then I saw the plane parked outside the gate and had a complete panic attack meltdown. Needless to say we missed the flight, Mike and Rose missed their vacation that year. After that they left me at home when they went on holiday, they had a neighbour watch over me."

Finally I shrugged, "So that's my tragic backstory. Now you know why I was raised by my aunt and uncle in Manchester. And why I can't get on another plane."

Phoebe was still holding me, and she gave me another gentle squeeze before finally letting go. Then as she settled back into her seat again she commented quietly, "I guess you must have healed up alright after all that? I mean, I've never noticed any scars. Not to mention you obviously passed all the physicals to get into police work."

"I got my flawless figure thanks to Cindy's spell," I quietly reminded her. I continued with a sigh, "But yeah, I was young enough the broken bones healed up just fine. There were scars from the surgeries, but they were mostly on my legs and chest. So trousers and a shirt kept them covered up."

Feebs gave me a sad worried look as she muttered, "Damn Tril. I don't know what to say. You're a hell of a lot stronger than I thought, to get through all that and keep going."

"I was a kid. Kids bounce back," I responded with another shrug.

The cute redhead must have realized I was ready to move on from that topic, so she let it drop at that point. The two of us fell into a slightly awkward silence for the next few minutes, and I found myself staring out the windows at the scenery passing by. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to get my mind off those painful memories, and I soon decided I needed something else to focus on instead.

So I turned my attention back to Feebs again and asked, "Seeing as we'll be in Aberdeen in a few hours, maybe you could tell me more about your family? Or what to expect when we get there?"

"Sorry," I added with a grimace. "I suppose it's my turn to ask the uncomfortable questions."

She shook her head, "It's fine Trillium. I've been putting it off, but if you hadn't asked I'd have made sure we had this conversation before we got there."

"So let's start with the bland background details," she stated before I could respond. "My father's name is William Campbell, age seventy-eight. He likes to pretend he's somehow special or important, but at the end of the day he's little more than a bloody landlord."

She scowled, "My grandfather's the one who originally made the family fortune, back in the nineteen fifties and sixties. Father's managed to grow it a bit, but he's no self-made man. Silver spoons and all that. You've met Duncan, picture our father as that but with another thirty-odd years on top."

Her expression softened as she said, "Mother's name is Moira. She's seventy-four, and she's slightly less annoying than my father. Unless you get her alone, then she'll usually soften up."

She was already frowning again as she moved on to her siblings, "Duncan's the eldest of the three of us, at forty-five years old. Takes after our father in almost every way, and when the old man's finally gone Dunc will take over the family holdings. Along with the house and everything else. Although I'm pretty sure he already handles most of the day to day work as it is."

"My sister Katie's the youngest," she continued. "Her proper name's Katriona but we all just call her Katie. She's forty now, and of the three of us she's the smartest. She's a medical doctor, specialist in fact, and working at a university hospital in London. Odds are she'll be there for the holidays, so you'll have a chance to meet her."

She blushed slightly as she got to herself, "As for me, I'm forty two. I know, hard to believe due to my amazing good looks. And I may have mentioned this before but I was the problematic middle child. I was more interested in sports and rough-housing when I was young, running around out in the woods and getting into all sorts of trouble."

"Then as a teen I came to hate the private school rich kid lifestyle," she added. "I started feeling guilty about all our wealth coming from folks who actually had to work for a living. Instead of studying business and money management like Duncan, I wanted to try and learn a trade. I wanted to earn my own way through life rather than depend on my father for everything."

I couldn't help commenting on that, "So what happened? You obviously don't mind spending your family's money nowadays, on luxury hotels and first-class train tickets."

"And I recall Duncan said something last night about a penthouse suite in Edinburgh? Along with an unemployed playboy lifestyle?" I added with a teasing smile.

Feebs' cheeks got even brighter but she gave me an honest answer, "Father decided to indulge me. He cut off my allowance, and any other access to money I had at the time. Then he shipped me off to a little school in south-west England. Set me up in the smallest cheapest dorm he could find. And he made me take the train back and forth between Aberdeen and the south coast of Devon. By the cheapest economy fare of course."

"Pretty sure he expected me to crack," she stated. "He probably thought I'd come crawling back after seeing what that sort of life was really like. Instead I just hated him and men like him even more."

Then she added, "That's how I met Owen by the way. We became best friends, and he introduced me to the occult. Which in turn got the both of us recruited by the Brotherhood. After a few years of training he went back to Wales and worked out of the Cardiff office, and I was sent to join the blokes in Edinburgh."

"Which is why your family thought you were unemployed?" I asked. "Since you had to keep your real work a secret?"

The redhead nodded, "Aye. At first I let them think I'd taken some low-paying office job, which wasn't far from the truth. I was working after all, just not as a database technician or whatever the hell I claimed to be doing at the time. It might not have been honest work, but at least I felt like I was doing something to pay my own way."

Finally she grimaced, "I think father eventually felt guilty about how he treated me? He gifted me a fancy penthouse flat and gave back the trust fund and all that. And by that point I'd been through enough with the Brotherhood to know life is short and brutal. So I took what he offered. I figured, the money's not doing anyone any good gathering dust in father's bank accounts. May as well spread it around and enjoy it."

"Anyways that was a bit of a tangent," she frowned and shook her head, "Back on the subject at hand, my family's very well off but they're not one-percenters. Ten-percent, sure. Maybe even five? They've got a nice big home on a good-sized piece of land, outside a village about ten kilometres west of Aberdeen. There might be a couple staff, but don't expect loads of live-in servants or anything like that."

She paused there as if trying to think of anything else to add, and indeed came up with one more comment. "We're part of Clan Campbell, but there's absolutely nothing special about us. No ancient Lairds, no famous ancestors. Father and Duncan both like to wear the tartan, but usually in the form of a tie or a scarf."

"I noticed your brother had a tartan tie last night," I commented.

"Aye," she responded. "So that's about all I can think to say on the subject? I'm sure it's going to be bloody awkward at first, but hopefully that won't last too long. Or maybe we won't be staying long, I really don't know."

A moment later she scowled, "I sure hope the old man didn't insist we travel all the way back to Aberdeen just so he could disown me in person. I don't think he's that spiteful or bitter, but who knows?"

I frowned, "Should we think about finding a hotel room just in case? And maybe renting a car?"

"Nah," Phoebe shook her head. "Duncan will be there to pick us up at the station, and we'll have a guest room at the house. Worst case scenario, we spend one unpleasant night in Aberdeen, then first thing in the morning we get on the next bloody train back to Wales."

"Right," I sighed. "Let's hope it goes a lot better than that."

"Aye," the cute redhead nodded in agreement.