The Retreat(27)

I put my arms around her. It was instinct, the need to comfort her. She was stiff at first and I almost pulled away, but then she relaxed, letting me hold her, and the trembling of her shoulders subsided as she pressed her face against my chest and I gently rubbed her back, shushing her and letting her cry.

When she eventually lifted her head, the front of my sweater was wet.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘Don’t apologise.’

She found a tissue and blew her nose, wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. ‘Oh God, I’m a mess. I’m such a mess. What must you think of me?’

‘I think you’re a mother who misses her daughter,’ I said. ‘That’s all.’

She took a deep breath and gathered herself. She was embarrassed now, refusing to look me in the eye. She stood up, went to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face.

She sat back down. ‘It probably was the wind. Or candles . . . sometimes candles go out on their own, don’t they?’

‘I think so.’

To be honest, that seemed unlikely. The most likely explanation, surely, was that Julia had forgotten to light them in the first place, had simply imagined herself doing it. I did that sort of thing all the time. And Julia, in her heightened state of emotion, was more susceptible to confusion, to forgetting, than most.

‘Do you want to blow the candles out now? And sing “Happy Birthday”, like you planned?’

‘Yes. Yes, I do.’

I went to get up. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

She grabbed my hand. ‘No, Lucas, please stay. It’s sad if it’s just me on my own.’ She laughed.

‘Okay.’

She began singing and I joined in.

‘Happy birthday to you . . . Happy birthday, dear Lily . . .’

Julia blew out the candles and cut three slices. Julia placed one in front of me and encouraged me to take a bite.

‘Mmm. It’s really nice.’

Her slice remained uneaten in front of her, as did the third slice, which she placed on the opposite side of the table. Lily’s piece.

I waited to see if Julia would mention singing in Lily’s room. I didn’t want to bring it up because it felt like an invasion of her privacy.

‘Oh God, I bet the others are moaning about not having any dinner, aren’t they?’ she said. ‘What shall I do?’

‘Let them eat cake?’

That made her laugh.

‘Look,’ I said. ‘I’ll drive into town, pick up a takeaway.’

‘Thank you, Lucas.’

‘Are you going to come back over to the house?’ I asked.

She stayed in her seat. ‘I think I’ll stay here a while.’

‘Okay.’

I backed out of the room, my eyes lingering on that uneaten third slice of birthday cake, on the extinguished candles. I thought about what Karen had said earlier about the house being haunted and the strange smell that hung in her room, but nothing – no number of strange occurrences – would make me believe in ghosts. I didn’t believe Lily had turned up to blow out her birthday candles. That didn’t make any sense. Julia must have forgotten to light the candles in the first place. It was the only logical explanation.





Chapter 13

LILY – 2014

So far, this was the best birthday ever. Lily had a card that said It’s great when you’re eight! and Mum and Dad had bought her the best present she’d ever had: a new bike to replace the one she’d had when she first learned to ride. Back then, Dad had taken her to a field near their old house and taught her how to keep her balance, not letting her give up. It was one of her happiest memories.

She stood in the park in town, holding the bike by its saddle, just looking at it. It was green – her favourite colour – and there were streamers attached to the handlebars. There was a gift tag attached too, which said, Happy Birthday Lily. All our love, Mum and Dad xxxx. It was awesome.

‘So,’ Mum said. ‘Are you going to ride it?’

‘I guess.’

‘Go on then.’

Mum made a fuss about whether the saddle was too high and double-checked the brakes, while Dad rolled his eyes. That was typical. They had to argue about everything, even today, the most important day of the year. Lily had been watching them closely lately because they hadn’t had any of their big massive rows about Dad’s drinking, but they made comments to each other all the time. Snip snip, like two pairs of scissors having a fight. Dad was always rolling his eyes when Mum’s back was turned. And Mum said Dad was something-aggressive.

They still loved each other, though. They had to.

And they loved her. This morning, they’d both come into Lily’s room with her cards and presents and Dad had given her a big cuddle and told her how happy she made him, and how she was his princess. It was slightly embarrassing, and he smelled a bit weird, like mouldy potatoes or something, but it was still nice.

‘Why don’t you do a circuit of the green?’ Mum said. ‘We’ll be able to see you.’

Lily climbed onto the bike. It was a little bit high and the saddle dug into her bottom, but if she stood on tiptoes it didn’t fall over. It was a cold day and Mum said she needed to wear gloves, but she had taken off her coat because she was hot. The helmet on her head made her hot too, but she definitely wasn’t allowed to take that off.