The Retreat(67)

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked. ‘The person you lost . . . I assume it was a girlfriend?’

‘Yes. Yes, she was.’ And I told her what had happened. My panic when Priya didn’t turn up at work. Finding her body. The hit and run.

‘The police found the guy who did it a week later. He was some high-ranking council official who’d been visiting his mistress before work. It was an accident – he was racing to get to the office before he was missed – and he panicked, thinking he’d lose his job and his wife and kids . . . I was there in court. He seemed genuinely ashamed, kept saying sorry, but I still hated him. If they told me he’d killed himself I’d be happy.’ I looked up at Julia. ‘That’s terrible, isn’t it.’

‘No. It’s understandable. If someone took Lily, and if I ever find them . . .’ She didn’t need to complete the sentence but her eyes reflected the hatred I still harboured for the man who killed Priya.

‘I was luckier than you,’ I said. ‘I got closure. And Priya’s death had an unexpected effect on me. I thought if anything like that ever happened to me I would fall apart, that writing would be at the bottom of my priority list, but the opposite happened. Priya had been so enthusiastic about Sweetmeat, which was an embryonic idea at that point, that I became determined, absolutely driven, to finish it. To make it soar, for her. I guess the aftershock of my dad’s death was mixed in with it too, the feeling that I’d never made him proud. So I put everything into that book. Everything. For the first time in my life, it was easy, and I knew it was good.’

‘And when it was successful, did it make you feel better? Did you feel like you’d done Priya and your dad proud?’

‘Yeah, kind of. It was exciting, exhilarating, but it was also kind of scary. When there’s been this thing you’ve wanted your whole life, and you think: if this happens, everything will be perfect, I’ll be happy at last . . . You convince yourself it will fix you. And then it happens.’

‘And it doesn’t fix you.’

‘No. I wasn’t any happier. It didn’t make me any less cut up about losing Priya or my dad. Time was the only thing that could do that.’

She nodded and I went on.

‘I was a mess. I’m still a mess. But you know what? I feel different now, after what happened to me and Max. Almost dying . . . It’s a massive cliché, but it really fucking focuses the mind. This is my second chance. My chance to get my shit together and be happy.’ I was silent for a moment, and she waited for me to continue. ‘Getting to know you, Julia, has made me realise I don’t have any real problems. Nothing compared to what you’ve gone through. You’re so strong.’

‘I’m not strong.’

‘No. You are. You really are. You’re amazing. I know you don’t want any more from me, but I just wanted you to know that I think you’re amazing.’

‘I’m not . . .’ She broke off. ‘Hang on, we’ve got company.’

It was Ursula. She burst into the cottage and came straight into the little kitchen. Her hair was sticking up and there was a bed-crease on the side of her face. She was pale, her expression flicking between anxiety and excitement.

‘Are you all right?’ Julia asked, standing up.

Ursula swiped at her ear as if a wasp was bothering her. Despite my antipathy towards her, I was concerned. There was clearly something wrong.

‘My spirit guide, Phoebe,’ she said. ‘She spoke to me, during the night.’

My concern evaporated. It was just Ursula, talking her usual nonsense.

‘And what did she tell you?’

‘First, she told me where to find your phone.’

I glanced at Julia, to see if she was as incredulous as I was. She mainly looked worried.

‘Oh?’ I said. ‘Where is it, then?’

‘On the bookshelf in the Thomas Room. I asked my guide exactly where and she sang to me. An old children’s nonsense rhyme.’

I stared at her. ‘Wait here.’

I left the cottage and hurried over to the main house, going straight into the sitting room. I located ‘The Owl and the Pussycat’ straight away and pulled it out. I couldn’t see my phone, so I pulled out a few more books, revealing a gap at the back of the shelf.

And there it was. My missing phone.

On the way back to the cottage I pressed the home button but the phone was dead. I waved it as I re-entered the cottage kitchen.

‘She was right. It was there.’ I addressed Ursula: ‘You must have taken it, hidden it there.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

I searched my memory. Could I have put it there, on the shelf, the night Ursula arrived? I had a vague memory of going over to look at the books. It was possible; I could have rested it on the line of books and it might have slipped down behind them. I didn’t know what to think.

Julia spoke up. ‘Did your spirit guide come to you in the night just to tell you where to find Lucas’s phone? Does she do that often? Tell you where to find lost things?’

‘Sometimes she does.’ She looked meaningfully at Julia. ‘You should sit down, dear.’

‘I’m okay where I am.’

‘Very well. You might find this a little alarming, but I’m going to ask my guide to speak to you directly.’