The Retreat(40)

I was pretty sure Priya would have liked Julia. I was less sure she would want me to start any kind of relationship with her. Even thinking Julia was attractive felt like a betrayal. And the whole thing was one-sided anyway, I reminded myself. Julia didn’t like me in that way. I was being ridiculous even thinking about it.

Julia smiled at me. ‘Lucas. You missed dinner. Do you want anything?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

A burst of male laughter came from the Thomas Room.

‘A new guest,’ she said. ‘You should go and meet her. She’s quite a character.’ She rolled her eyes and laughed, a slightly giddy laugh. I did a double take. Had she been drinking? Surely not.

She busied herself stacking the dishwasher.

‘Do you want a hand?’ I asked.

‘No, go and meet the new guest.’

A fire burned in the hearth, bathing the room in a warm, flickering light. Max was on the sofa, with Suzi beside him.

Another woman sat in the armchair opposite. I guessed she was in her fifties. She had a dark Louise Brooks bob and wore several heavy necklaces. She was watching Max with an earnest, slightly perplexed expression.

As I came into the room, Max said, ‘Ah, the reclusive horror writer. Lucas, this is Ursula.’

‘Ursula Clarke,’ she said in a moneyed voice. Her name rang a vague bell, but she clearly expected me to have heard of her.

They were, I realised, holding wine glasses. A half-empty bottle stood on the coffee table. Had Julia rescinded the alcohol ban? It seemed as if my guess that Julia was tipsy had been correct after all.

‘Ursula wrote The Spirit’s Whisper,’ Max said, with a little smirk. When Ursula wasn’t looking, he winked at Suzi, who didn’t respond. She was studying Ursula with interest.

‘Oh, I’ve heard of that,’ I said. ‘It was a huge bestseller, wasn’t it?’

‘A million copies sold,’ Ursula replied, faux-nonchalantly.

‘Ten years ago,’ Max said.

Ursula’s jaw tightened and I felt a wave of sympathy. She was in the exact situation I dreaded: a flash of success followed by years of obscurity. The curse of the one-hit wonder.

‘Remind me what it was about?’ I said. ‘Sorry, I have a terrible memory.’

‘It was about my relationship with my spirit guide,’ Ursula said. ‘How she counselled me, told me secrets, helped show me the way towards wealth and happiness.’

‘I have an agent for all that,’ laughed Max.

Ursula wasn’t amused.

‘I’m used to mockery,’ she said.

‘I think it sounds fascinating.’ I sat down. Of course, I actually thought it was a load of hokum, but I wanted to get one over on Max and, like I said, I felt sorry for Ursula. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘You might need a drink first,’ said Max, pouring one for me. He handed me the glass and I took a sip. Red wine, thick and delicious.

‘What happened to the booze ban?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know.’ Max scratched his head. ‘We came down for dinner tonight and there it was. Like a wonderful apparition.’

Ursula made a little hem-hem noise in her throat. ‘I think you might have me to thank. Julia told me about the dry nature of this place when I called to enquire about booking. I told her how absurd it was. A place for writers with no alcohol? I said if she wanted this to be a viable business she needed to get down to the nearest wine merchant, pronto.’

Max raised his glass. ‘A toast to Ursula.’

Suzi raised hers too. I didn’t join in. As pleased as I was to have a glass of wine in my hand, I was the only one who suspected why Julia had an aversion to drink.

‘Anyway, Lucas, I was about to tell you about spirit guides.’ Ursula put down her glass and sat back.

‘All of us, even Max here, have a spirit guide. Someone who watches over us and helps us on our journey through this life. Tell me, Lucas, do you ever feel as if someone is watching you, looking after you? Perhaps you glimpse a presence sometimes, when you’re dreaming or in moments of high emotion.’

Her words made my skin prickle. Because sometimes I did feel as if I were being watched, especially since Priya’s death. Especially, in fact, since I’d come here.

She went on. ‘Some people, such as myself, are unusually sensitive. We are able to communicate directly with our guide. She tells me if someone has plans to harm me, and she tells me who I can trust. She also helps me communicate with the deceased too, so they can pass on their wisdom.’

‘Does she have a name?’ I asked.

‘Of course. Phoebe.’

‘And did Phoebe used to be . . . a flesh-and-blood person?’

‘Oh yes. But hundreds of years ago.’ She smiled, although there was a hint of sadness there, as if Ursula were talking about an old friend she hadn’t seen for a long time.

‘The good news,’ she said, ‘is that Heaven is real. As soon as I realised that, I no longer feared death – and I truly started to live.’

She allowed me to top up her wine glass along with my own. At the same time, Julia put her head around the door and said goodnight. As I heard her go up the stairs, it hit me, right in the stomach. I missed her. Missed the connection we’d made.

Ursula noticed. ‘You like her, don’t you?’