‘Doug said Pippa is half out of her mind with worry. She loves that horse more than anything else in the world. Honestly, Lexi, if it was anyone else but them—’
‘Go,’ I interrupted him. ‘I understand.’
‘You could probably do with getting some rest,’ Nick said from the bedroom doorway. He was at least five metres away from me, but I swear I could feel the heat from his eyes as he added, ‘Neither of us got much sleep last night.’
‘I know,’ I said, sharing a look that new lovers anywhere would recognise.
‘I had such big plans for this morning,’ Nick admitted, forcing himself through the doorway with visible effort. ‘And none of them involved either of us getting dressed.’
I giggled, wondering when I’d last felt this light-hearted, and then felt immediately guilty when I thought of the desperate teenager waiting at the stables for the only vet she trusted to save her horse.
‘Make yourself at home while I’m gone. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
‘I’ll be here,’ I promised. And then, because I couldn’t resist, I dropped the sheet and gave him one last quick flash.
Nick was still laughing as he ran lightly down the stairs and out into the early morning.
*
Surprisingly, I did manage to go back to sleep. Nick must have been gone for several hours by the time I woke the second time, for the sunlight filtering through his bedroom window was in an entirely different spot on the polished wooden floor.
I stretched lazily in his bed as memories of the night before played through my head like an X-rated movie. I smiled as I surveyed his bedroom floor, littered with our discarded clothes. Over by the door was Nick’s shirt, which I’d impressively managed to toss clean across the room. Pulled by the need for coffee, I swung out of bed and slipped it on. Nick had told me to make myself at home, but I didn’t think that offer extended to wandering around his house stark naked.
As I headed for the kitchen, I discovered more discarded clothing. I scooped up the sparkly stilettos from the staircase and picked up my black clutch bag from the bottom tread. I set the shoes down, but for some reason my fingers tightened on the slim evening bag.
Just moments earlier, the only thought in my head had been the espresso machine in Nick’s kitchen. But now, as I stood in a shaft of morning sunlight, I suddenly shivered. Something felt wrong… something to do with my handbag. I flipped the catch and peered inside. Everything that should be therewasthere. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of ill ease.
It was still there as I stepped into Nick’s kitchen and set the bag down on the gleaming countertop. Amelia had been right; a silver bagwouldhave looked better with my outfit. There it was again, that feeling of something being off kilter.
Distracted, I turned towards the cupboard where Nick stored his mugs, but I never got to pull one down. With the impact of a lightning bolt, the memory I’d been grappling to catch hold of slowed down enough for me to snag it.
I’ve got a gorgeous beaded one somewhere.
I could hear Amelia’s voice as clearly as if she was standing right there in the kitchen beside me.
It’s in a dark-grey box… I think.
She’d been talking about her missing silver evening bag, and I’d been too distracted to pay much attention to her words. But I did now, because I knewexactlywhere that grey box was. It was beneath the bed in the guest room. I’d seen it every single time I’d knelt to slip another bundle of photographs into the memory box.
My heart was pounding against the wall of my chest and the sound of blood rushing in my ears made it difficult to think straight. There was absolutely no reason to think that Amelia would have remembered the location of the grey box overnight. Or that she’d decided to look for it at all. But what if she had?
Could I risk her finding the memory box? I asked, and answered my own question by racing back up the stairs to Nick’s bedroom and pulling on my clothes much faster than he had removed them. Those photographs should never have been taken, and seen out of context they could do nothing but harm.
*
The Uber driver wanted to chat, but all I wanted was for him to drive faster. Every red light and busy junction felt like it had been put in our path deliberately to slow us down.
‘Do you think you could go a little quicker?’ I urged him.
‘In a bit of a hurry, are you?’ It was the second redundant question he’d asked so far, the first being ‘Off somewhere nice today?’ when I climbed into the back of his car at ten o’clock in the morning dressed in my wedding finery.
I felt bad breaking my promise to Nick that I’d be there when he returned, and I shut my mind to the image of him running up the stairs, only to find my hastily scrawled note in the place where he’d left me.
Nick, I’m really sorry but something has come up and I have to leave. I’ll call you later. I hope Dotty is okay. L x
I leapt from the car almost before it had come to a stop on the sandy lane and threw a hurried thank you over my shoulder to the driver. I burst through the front door as though on a rescue mission, glancing left and right as I ran through the hallway, hoping to find my sister in one of the downstairs rooms. But both were empty.
I ran up the stairs, tracking damp sand from the soles of my stilettos as I went. As I crested the top tread, I saw the door to my bedroom was open. Feeling physically sick, I took a tentative step forward.