LeRoux Manor Page 8

  “Hey,” Grace greeted as they approached and took their seats. The boys only grunted in response; their feeding frenzy clearly interrupted. Grace rolled her eyes at Camille as she pulled a container of grapes from her bag and offered a few. Camille smiled, took a couple grapes, but still couldn’t look away from the boys’ ravenous eating. “I know...” Grace whispered loudly. “It’s like watching a horrid accident. You just can’t look away.” Camille could only nod.

  “You should see how they eat after a big game,” Jayne said, taking a seat beside Grace.

  Grace let out a disgusted snort. “So true. It’s totally disgusting. They’re the same after training too.”

  “So why do you hang out with us then if we’re so disgusting?” Jonathan asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Well, because you also happen to be cute,” Grace replied.

  “Lucky for me, then.” Jonathan winked.

  Lachlan brushed off his hands and looked up at Camille with a nod of greeting. Camille smiled back, not sure if this was his version of a friendly greeting or his way of reacting to her intrusion on their group.

  “So, Camille made a discovery last night...” Grace piped up.

  “Uh... okay.” Being put on the spot made Camille suddenly nervous. “It’s probably not that big a deal, come to think of it.”

  “Come on. Don’t bail on us now,” Grace prompted. “Tell us what’s on your mind.” Clearly, she didn’t plan on letting it go.

  Camille flicked quick glances at each of them before diving in. “So... you all know—or knew about my Uncle Charles, right?” They nodded. “Well, when I was born, he wanted my parents to put me up for adoption.”

  “What?” Grace and Jayne exclaimed in shock.

  “That’s messed up.” Jonathan looked at Lachlan, who gave his solemn nod of agreement. “After that, my parents cut all ties with him, and I never met him. I only found this out after we’d already moved here. We’re the last living LeRoux’s, so the manor was left to my dad. But what’s really interesting is that last night, I found a family tree in a book about the manor. If it’s accurate, turns out I’m the only girl born into the family since Mena LeRoux.”

  “The girl who disappeared the same day her father was found murdered, right?” Lachlan asked.

  Camille gaped at him. “Uh, yeah. The day the manor opened the property with a huge party.”

  “Wait, didn’t that happen over a hundred years ago?” Jayne asked.

  “1817,” Lachlan answered. “So, two hundred years ago.”

  “So, no girls in two hundred years?” Grace asked slowly, as though trying to work out the odds in her head.

  “I mean, obviously, most of the men married, so there are women in the family. Just not born into it. Until me, I guess.”

  “That doesn’t even sound possible,” Jonathan stated.

  “That’s exactly what I said,” Camille replied. “I mean, it could be nothing, but it just seemed like too much of a coincidence to me.”

  “I definitely think that’s something,” Lachlan said. “There has to be more to it.” He leaned forward on his arms and gazed intently at Camille. “You’re going ahead with the blog, aren’t you? This is an epic way to start it.” Camille didn’t have to look at Jayne to feel the heat of the girl’s stare. “Uh... yeah. I will. But I haven’t done anything about it yet.”

  “Let me know when you do.” Lachlan tapped his hand on the table. “I want to see what you come up with.” Then he turned to Jonathan. “We have maths. You... you coming?”

  “Yeah. You know what he’s like if we’re late,” Jonathan replied dryly. He stood from the table and slung his bag over his shoulder.

  “Keep us updated,” Lachlan called over his shoulder as they walked off.

  “We’d better get going to P.E.,” Jayne announced, shoving her things into her bag a little too forcefully. Grace gave Camille a small smile, as if to say, ‘Ignore it.’ The three girls headed together toward the gym.

  Lachlan’s words played over and over in Camille’s mind, despite her best intentions of blocking them out.

  “I can’t believe your uncle asked your parents to give you up,” Grace said softly, shaking her head. “What kind of person does that?” Camille shrugged. “I’m sorry. That’s pretty insensitive to keep talking about it, isn’t it?” Grace placed a concerned hand on Camille’s arm.

  “Not at all. Like I said, I’d never met him. Sure, it’s not a great feeling, knowing he wanted me out of the family. But my parents never gave it a second’s thought. That’s all that matters.”

  The girls finished their walk in silence. When they entered the gym, they went straight to the bleachers to sit down. Grace leaned forward to look at Camille, who sat on the other side of Jayne. “So, are you going ahead with the blog thing, then?”

  “I think I need to,” Camille said. “Even if it’s just for myself. I need answers. I just have absolutely no idea how to set up a blog. Not even a website.”

  “Jayne’s a genius at computers, aren’t you?” Grace announced, glancing up at her friend.

  “I’m all right.” A small smile tugged at Jayne’s mouth. “I can set one up for you, at least.”

  “That would be awesome. Any chance you guys are free after school?”

  “I have to work at the bookstore,” Grace replied, pursing her lips in disappointment.

  “I’m free,” Jayne offered. “If you don’t mind that it’s just us.”

  “Of course not,” Camille said. “That would be brilliant!” That got her the first genuine smile from Jayne since they’d met.

  “Hey, you guys could bring your laptops to the bookstore and work from there. That way, I can still be in on the action,” Grace suggested.

  “You think setting up a blog is action?” Jayne laughed.

  “You know what I mean. What do you think?”

  “Sounds good,” Camille replied. “I’ll just need to let my mum know.”

  “Same here,” Jayne agreed. Then the teacher blew his whistle.

  CAMILLE STOOD UNDER the steady flow of hot water, smiling as the smell of her green-apple conditioner filled the bathroom. They’d worked for a good couple of hours setting up the website and the blog just the way they wanted it. Jayne had done an amazing job, and Camille was thrilled with the finished result. She’d used a distorted photo of the manor for the homepage and had edited it to include swirling fog and haunting music. The creepy, mysterious feel they’d created was perfect, all without making it look cheesy. Jayne had shown her how to manage it, and while the site was still bare at the moment, Camille looked forward to filling it with all the information she planned—hoped—to uncover. Jayne had even set her with a first task—to enter the LeRoux family tree in its entirety. Of course, she’d said simply taking a photo and uploading it wasn’t good enough. It had to be done manually, and that would take a while, but Camille didn’t mind. She wanted to familiarise herself with her ancestors, to build connections with the family she’d only known in name.

  They couldn’t have all been like Uncle Charles.

  Turning off the shower, she grabbed her towel, then stepped out into the cool bathroom. Grateful for the slightly warmer bathmat, she shuffled it toward the mirror just to keep her feet off the freezing bathroom floor. When she looked up at the mirror, though, her hand shot out to clutch at the towel rack, and she almost tripped over the bathmat in surprise.

  Written into the steamy fog coating the mirror was a name—Caroline. Camille spun around and looked behind her, but the bathroom door was still closed. She glanced back at the mirror, and her mouth dropped open. Every part of her froze as the image of that ghostly woman flooded her mind. She struggled to rationalise.

  Think. Think!

  Before her shower, there hadn’t been anything on the mirror at all. Looking back at the door again, she envisioned Miss McAllister sneaking in to do this. But that couldn’t be right. She’d rolled another towel and stuffed it up against
the bottom of the door to keep the steam in and the draft out. It was only a little effective, but that towel remained exactly where she’d placed it. No one could have opened the door.

  Wrapping herself in the fresh towel, she kicked aside the rolled one on the floor and fled the bathroom. The cold floor no longer bothered her as she dashed to her room. Then she snatched her phone from off the bed and hurried back to the bathroom to take a photo. She stopped so suddenly that she almost slipped and fell. The mirror was wiped clean.

  She could only stare at it, unable to move, knowing she’d been gone just for a few seconds. Am I going crazy? Snatching her clothes from the bench, she stormed out of the bathroom. The hall creaked behind her, making Camille jump, and she turned to see Miss McAllister walking away from her down the hall.

  “Miss McAllister,” Camille called, “were you in the bathroom just now?”

  The woman turned slowly, her face as cold and unreadable as the bathroom floor. “No, Miss. I was not.”

  Camille glared at her, trying to determine if she believed the woman. Someone Miss McAllister’s age surely couldn’t move faster than her. “Who’s Caroline?” Camille asked. Miss McAllister’s stony expression fell away, and her already pale skin blanched around her widening eyes. “Who is she?” Camille’s pulse raced. She’d gotten an actual response from the woman; this couldn’t have just been her imagination after all.

  “The past belongs to the past,” Miss McAllister said. “Leave well enough alone if you know what’s good for you.” Then the woman turned on her heel and scurried off down the hall.

  Too stunned and confused to move, Camille stared after her until her pounding heart settled a little. Now the cold made her shiver, so she returned to her room and closed the door. She absently threw on her clothes, then climbed onto the bed and opened her book. Turning it to the LeRoux family tree, she meticulously scanned the thing row by row, name by name, looking for a Caroline. When she reached the bottom without having found it, she leaned back against the cushions and frowned at this dead end. There was no Caroline in her family tree. Who the hell is she, then?

  Camille grabbed her laptop, opened the browser, and typed in ‘Caroline and LeRoux Manor’. It came as no surprise that the search proved less than helpful. Sighing, she picked up the phone and texted Grace.

  “You won’t believe what’s just happened...”

  CHAPTER TEN

  P

  LEASE TELL ME you’ve updated your blog with Grace’s sighting and the mirror incident?” Jayne pleaded.

  “Without any evidence to post, people will just assume I’ve made everything up,” Camille replied.

  “Some people are going to think that whether you have any evidence or not,” Grace argued. “You know. Don’t believe everything you see and all that. But we know it’s real. Besides, isn’t the point of the blog anyway? To document everything?” She tore off a piece of her sandwich and popped it into her mouth.

  “I’m with Grace,” Jonathan agreed around a mouthful of chicken wrap. “Most people just think LeRoux Manor is super creepy, so I doubt anyone would actually be surprised to hear there’s a bunch of weird stuff going on there.”

  “Well, that’s awesome...” Camille replied with a rueful smile. “I’ll be the blog girl who lives in the creepy manor.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Jonathan exclaimed. Grace gave him a playful nudge in the ribs.

  “Have you considered the possibility that you’ve been looking into the wrong family tree?” Lachlan asked quietly.

  Camille frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you said Miss Mc Allister definitely reacted to the name Caroline. Her family has lived in the manor for as long as the LeRoux’s have. So maybe Caroline isn’t related to you. Maybe she’s related to the McAllister’s.” Camille raised her eyebrows in admiration of his theory.

  “Boy wonder strikes again!” Jonathon shouted, slapping his mate on the back.

  “That’s not bad at all,” Grace said. “You could be onto something, there.”

  “Maybe there’s something about them back at the manor,” Camille suggested, “either in the book or the attic stuff.”

  “Maybe, yeah. Or, if you want to go to the library and see what we can find, that might help. I’m not working today.”

  “Definitely,” Camille said.

  “I can’t,” Jayne added, dropping her gaze in disappointment. “I have to babysit. Won’t be done until after dinner.”

  “I’m keen,” Lachlan offered. The girls looked at him in surprise, but he just kept eating.

  “Uh, sure...” Camille said, feeling Jayne’s stare burning into her.

  “Yeah, I’ll leave you lot to the library,” Jonathan said. “Not really my thing. But I expect an update if you find anything cool.” Grace rolled her eyes at him.

  “Same here!” Jayne added, clearly not wanting to be left out.

  “What’s everyone got for the last two periods?” Jonathan asked.

  “IT here,” Camille answered while Jayne nodded in confirmation.

  “We have bio,” Grace told the boys, obviously referring to them and herself.

  “What would I do without my personal assistant?” Jonathan grinned and stood from the table.

  “I think you’ll find you’re my assistant.” Grace dumped her bag in his hands. He kissed her on the head, then slung her bag over one shoulder while his own hung from the other.

  “Cool,” Camille said. “We’ll meet you out front after school.” They waved each other off before walking in separate directions. By the way she stomped next to Camille, Jayne was obviously annoyed she couldn’t join them after school. Camille thought it best they walk in silence until she could think of a way to remedy the situation.

  They entered the IT classroom, and took their seats, and found a different teacher sitting at the desk. Once everyone was seated, he finally spoke, his bushy grey eyebrows joined in an unfriendly frown. “I’m substituting today. You can have a free work session to work on what you want, but I don’t want to see any nonsense or rowdy behaviour.”

  Jayne and Camille glanced at each other with raised eyebrows. The teacher returned to whatever he was reading, and Camille leaned over toward Jayne. “If you don’t have anything you want to work on,” she whispered, “would you mind helping me finish off the post for my blog?” Jayne’s eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly.

  Camille was relieved to find she had to do very little—Jayne was clearly in her element—and watched in awe as her the girl expertly uploaded images and rearranged text.

  “Okay, we’re ready for a preview to see how it all looks before it goes live.”

  “Live?” Camille asked.

  “As in publish it so everyone else can see it. Aren’t you supposed to be the high-tech city girl?” Jayne laughed.

  Camille gave her a rueful smile. “Tech I love, so long as it works. It’s the how anything works I know nothing about. You, on the other hand, are so good at this stuff.”

  Jayne gave a nonchalant shrug, but her proud smile gave her away. “I’m okay. Better than most. Who knows? Maybe I’ll make a career out of it.”

  “I really think you should.” Camille leaned in for a better look at Jayne’s handiwork. The page started with a photo of Camille Jayne had taken from her Facebook page. Beside that was a brief introduction chronicling Camille’s move to LeRoux Manor and her interest in finding out the truth about the manor’s history. On the next page, Jayne had uploaded the LeRoux family portrait from Camille’s phone. Below the photo was the LeRoux family tree Camille had typed up, with a change in the font to better suit the site. The final page detailed Camille’s strange experiences in individual journal entries, ensuring they were properly documented while also giving some character to the blog.

  “Are you happy with it?” Jayne asked.

  “Are you kidding me? I love it. It’s awesome. Thank you so much.”

  “You can do the honours, then.” Jayne moved aside.r />
  Camille smiled as she moved the mouse over the ‘Publish’ button and clicked.

  “You remember how to add new posts as we discover more information, right?”

  Camille nodded. “I think so. But if I get stuck, I’ll let you know.” Jayne smiled, and Camille hoped the ice between them had finally thawed, opening the way for them to become friends.

  CAMILLE DIDN’T KNOW why she felt a wave of butterflies in her stomach when she saw Lachlan and Grace waiting for her at the school gate. Grace saw her first and waved. Camille returned the gesture before deflecting her gaze to the ground. She felt so awkward under Lachlan’s intense stare as she approached. After what felt like an eternity, she finally reached them, feeling the heat in her cheeks and hoping they’d mistake the blush for a chill from the cold air. She made a point of rearranging her scarf for good measure.

  “About time, LeRoux,” Lachlan said, pushing himself away from leaning against the wall. “We were starting to think you weren’t going to show.”

  “Sorry. I think I accidently took the scenic route from the computer lab.”

  Grace laughed and hooked her arm through Camille’s. “You’ll know this place like the back of your hand before you know it.” They made their way toward the centre of town, Grace seemingly happy to take over the majority of the talking for the three of them. Camille tried to focus on what she her friend was saying rather than worrying about the fact that Lachlan walked half a step behind them. Finally, Grace led them into the library, and Camille welcomed the warmth.

  “Hi, Ms Liddell,” she said to the librarian as they walked past the front counter.

  “Good afternoon.” Ms Liddell offered only the smallest smile as she peered at them over her glasses, her hands resting on the book lying open on the desk. When they reached the first bookshelf, Camille looked back to find the librarian still watching them and fought off the urge to shiver.