I Am Watching You(44)

‘I’m sorry I haven’t phoned more often about Anna,’ Lily offers suddenly as she turns away again to pour hot water into a large yellow cafetière. ‘It must have been so awful for you.’

There had been a couple of phone calls soon after Anna disappeared, a card and some brief messages on Facebook. Sarah had hoped for much more, and could have done with her sister’s support. Though she said she did not want to talk about it, she did really. Deep down. Would she have told her the truth back then if Lily had made more effort? Pushed her? She does not know the answer, so says nothing and waits for her coffee. On the train here she had imagined it all very differently. A tsunami of revelations. Tears. Hugs. Relief.

I am afraid Dad had something to do with Anna . . .

Why hasn’t Lily asked?

Now that Sarah is here, she is not at all sure how this is going to turn out. She and Lily feel like strangers standing in this large and cluttered kitchen. The pin is firmly back in the wretched grenade.

‘So have you told Mum you’re here?’

‘Not where. Just that I’m visiting you and that she’s not to worry.’

‘Good. I don’t want her having this address.’ Lily fidgets with her skirt, picking at some imagined bit of fluff or stain, and then Sarah feels her sister’s gaze, unblinking.

‘Perhaps if you phone her to confirm I’m with you, Lily.’

‘You think I need to do that?’

‘Yes. She’s getting quite upset.’ A pause. Sarah feels guilty. ‘She’s told the police I’m missing, that I’ve done a bunk.’

‘Oh, Sarah, you should have told me that from the off. We don’t want the police round here.’

‘Sorry.’

‘OK.’ Lily glances up at the ceiling and then back at Sarah, hands on her hips. ‘I don’t have a mobile at the moment. We try to avoid them. We share one for emergencies.’

Sarah finds this bizarre. No mobile? Curious as to who exactly the we refers to, she takes out her own phone from her pocket, selects the number and dials, waiting for the sound of her mother’s voice, and then hands the phone straight to Lily, widening her eyes.

‘Hi, Mum. It’s Lily here. This is just a very quick call to say that Sarah has told you the truth and you’re not to worry. She’s not missing. She’s just with me for a few days and is perfectly safe.’

Sarah can hear her mother’s voice leaking from the phone pressed to her sister’s ear. A couple of words are loud enough to be heard. Home. A lot of babbling and then . . . Police. She tries to read Lily’s expression. A deepening frown. Narrowing eyes. A quick movement of the head and then apparent interruption . . .

‘Look, I can understand you’re upset, Mum, but Sarah doesn’t want to come home right now. There is no need to involve the police. She hasn’t run away. She isn’t missing, she’s just staying with me . . . If they need to speak to her, they can do that when she returns.’

Another bout of louder intervention from their mother, Lily closing her eyes this time, wincing as she listens.

‘Well, we are going to have to beg to differ on this. I will tell Sarah to keep her phone switched on so that she can pick up any texts. OK. Bye, then.’ She holds the phone to her waist, apparently scanning for the button to end the call, and then holds it back out for Sarah.

‘So, she doesn’t change.’

Sarah shakes her head as the phone rings again immediately. The ringtone is one she downloaded in hospital. An old-fashioned trill phone. She had quite liked it then. It reminded her of old sitcoms. Here, it suddenly sounds ridiculous. The screen confirms it is her mother again. She rejects the call and switches the phone to silent as Lily turns back to finish the coffee, pouring it into two bright red mugs and raising a carton of milk by way of question, to which Sarah nods.

They stand there sipping, Sarah glancing for a chair, wondering again if she dares to open the conversation she so dreads. As if sensing this, Lily suddenly announces that she is going to give her a tour. And then she is sweeping out of the kitchen, her skirt swirling as she moves, leading the way.

‘Come on. Let me show you round. You must meet people.’

Sarah is awkward as she tries to manage the mug as they walk, and has no interest now in a tour and certainly no interest in company.

The house is large and impressive, in a tatty, shabby style throughout. There are huge faded sofas in the sitting room, a wall of books in the dining room and an enormous sun room with plants everywhere. The floors are all original wood with bright rugs. Lily is talking non-stop as they walk. Three couples share the house with Lily and the owner Caroline, she explains. It’s not a commune but more a coming-together of the like-minded. They are all artists, mostly.

‘So do you have a job? I mean – what pays for all this?’ Sarah sips at the coffee as they stand in the middle of the sun room. She is wondering where everyone else is. Who precisely is home for her to meet today?

‘We all have jobs and we all contribute in different ways. Caroline’s parents own the house. Peppercorn rent.’

‘Lucky.’

‘We believe you make your own luck in life. That we are responsible for what we become now. Whether we fulfil our potential.’

Sarah hears an echo and remembers exactly the same words being shared when Lily came home that first time. She imagines it is a quote from the mysterious Caroline.