Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
On the doorstep Nancy greeted Lily with an enthusiastic embrace that made her wince.
“Careful! I’m still not feeling a hundred percent.”
“Tell me about it!” Nancy frowned. “My head hurts. Though it seems to be easing finally.” She moved back inside. “Can you believe I called in sick for work?”
“Is it unusual for you?”
“Yes. I love my job. Usually I’d go in even if I was genuinely ill, which works out well for me now.
My boss thinks I must be at death’s door.
I told her I have flu without really thinking it through – no one has the flu for one day.
But then I suppose it’s not every day your best friend turns up after twenty years!
I’ll stay here for the next few days and we can catch up properly.
” She looked unsure of herself. “If that’s okay with you. If you need some space, just say so.”
“It’s fine with me.” Lily hung her coat on the banister post, then left her shoes at the edge of the hall and followed Nancy to the kitchen.
“How was it with Bert?” she asked, leaning against the counter.
“He’s very sweet.” Lily looked out of the window and watched a couple of geese soaring down to land on the river with a flourish. “His boat’s tiny.”
“And it smells like wet dog! After a while, I get nauseous and have to leave.” She shook her head. “It’s the last place I’d want to be with a hangover.”
“It got a little stuffy,” Lily said, then dragged her gaze from the water to look at her friend. “He also told me about the night my parents died. About his dog barking at the fire. That made me feel queasy too.”
“I’ll bet,” Nancy said, words thick with sympathy.
“Do you remember that night?” Lily asked while her whole body tensed. Maybe she didn’t want to know any more than she already did.
“We were asleep,” she said. “Slept through the whole thing. That’s one small blessing, I suppose.”
“Yes.” Lily’s entire body sagged with relief. “Is your mum in?”
“No. She’s gone to meet a friend.”
Lily paused.
“You can ask me anything you want?” Nancy said, seeming to read Lily’s hesitation. “It must be so frustrating not to remember anything.”
“This might sound odd,” Lily said slowly. “But I was wondering if you still sleep in the same bedroom when you stay here?”
“I do,” she said. “It’s a lot less pink these days. Would you like to see it?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” She was already crossing the kitchen. “Come on.”
The wide staircase led to a spacious landing with several doors off it. Nancy took the short hallway to the back of the house and pushed at the gold handle on the white door.
Furnished in sophisticated shades of cream and beige, the room lacked personality.
“It’s very much a guest room now,” Nancy said, turning in the centre of the room.
She pointed at the queen-sized bed with the abundance of pillows and cushions.
“It used to be a princess bed with a canopy. And there were pink curtains and a pink Barbie rug. And a lovely old doll’s house that we used to spend hours playing with. ”
Lily tried to picture two little girls playing with dolls, but came up blank.
“I don’t remember,” she whispered, then whipped around at movement by the door.
“What are you doing?” the scrawny guy asked, eyes on Nancy.
“Hanging out with a friend,” she replied in a petty tone. “Which I’m sure is a strange concept to you.” She blew out a resigned breath. “Lily, this is my brother, Johnny.”
“Lily?” he asked, shifting his weight and staring intensely.
“I used to live next door,” she told him, assuming she didn’t need to be more specific than that.
His shoulders hunched forward and his dark hair fell across his face. He pushed it back again. “Mum said she’d seen you. I… umm…”
“Eloquent as ever,” Nancy said. “You know, if you went out more often, you might develop your social skills.”
He blushed cherry red. Lily almost felt sorry for him, but at his age, he really ought to be able to take some sisterly teasing.
“Nice to meet you,” he said to Lily. “I mean… meet you again.” He shifted his weight, then backed up and disappeared down the hall.
“That was mean,” Lily said to Nancy.
“I told you he’s weird!” she whispered playfully. “He’s so awkward.”
Lily dropped to sit on the edge of the bed and shot Nancy a teasing smirk. “To be fair to him, he just bumped into an urban myth in his own home. I think that would leave most people lost for words.”
Nancy lifted her chin as she spluttered a laugh. “I was talking such nonsense last night, wasn’t I? Though the urban myth thing is actually pretty true.” She threw her arms out. “Living legend, Lily Larkin!” she declared with a flourish of jazz hands. “Say that quickly five times! I bet you can’t.”
Lily gave the tongue twister a try, and it ended with them both giggling like children. The levity was just what she needed.
“What did you want to show me?” she asked when they eventually calmed down. “You said on the phone earlier that you wanted to show me something.”
“Photos,” Nancy said. “After the fire, Mum got a bit obsessed with finding every photo we had of you and your parents. She was concerned that you wouldn’t have many photos, so she made you an album.
By the time she’d finished putting it together, you’d left with your uncle and she didn’t know how to get it to you. ”
“You still have it?” Lily asked.
“Yes. Mum mentioned it yesterday. She hadn’t said anything to you about it because she wanted to check she could definitely find it.
We went up into the attic earlier to look for it.
” She sat beside Lily and patted her knee.
“I thought we could look through it together, but if you think it’ll be too overwhelming, you can take it with you and look at it whenever you feel like it. It was always supposed to be yours.”
“I think I’d like to look at it together, if that’s all right. You might be able to help if I have questions.”
Looking through the photos alone would no doubt have been a morbid experience, but with Nancy jabbering away beside Lily on the plush couch it was about as pleasant as it could have been.
It didn’t unlock any memories, but there was something familiar about the photos – as though she was watching a film she’d seen a long time ago.
In the photos, her early years looked so domestic and idyllic, nothing like her life with Uncle Derek. The girl in the photos should probably have gone on to take dancing classes and art workshops, but life had had other plans and Lily had gone to self-defence classes and martial arts.
A photo of two little girls in front of their Sunshine House made Lily pause for longer. They were so innocent. It might only have been weeks before the fire. That girl in the photo was blissfully unaware of what was to come.
She turned the page to a photo of her on her dad’s lap in the back garden.
“Who’s that?” Lily asked, pointing at the man beside them.
“My dad,” Nancy said. “We used to have barbecues together in the summer.”
“Are you close to him?” Lily asked.
“I used to be. Not so much since the divorce. He has a girlfriend who I’m not keen on so that makes it difficult.”
“Does he live nearby?”
“Yes. Just in Truro.”
Lily closed the last page of the photo album, then went back to the beginning and started again.
“Are you okay?” Nancy asked softly.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I think so.”
Nancy’s eyes brightened. “Do you think I need to apologise to Mr and Mrs Bramford about last night? How rude was I?”
“I don’t think it was that bad,” Lily said. “It was just a bit childish.”
“You seem to bring out the child in me. If I go over to apologise, I’ll blame it all on you!”
“I don’t think you need to say anything,” Lily said, then thought back on the encounter with the Bramfords. “Do you know if they wanted to sell?” she asked hesitantly.
“What do you mean?”
“Back when the property developers were sniffing around. Were the Bramfords interested in selling?”
“Yes. I think they were the easiest to persuade. That’s what Mum told me, anyway.” Her head whipped to the doorway at a sound in the hall. “What are you doing creeping around?” she snapped.
Johnny stepped confidently into view. “I wasn’t creeping. I was going to make a coffee and thought I’d see if you two wanted a drink.” He lifted his eyebrows quizzically.
“We’re fine,” Nancy said. “We already have drinks.”
He nodded and looked as though he’d go away again, but he rocked back on his heels.
“The Bramfords were more keen to sell than anyone,” he said. “They had other properties, so it would have been really easy for them to move. Plus, Charles worked in property, so he knew exactly what a good deal it was.”
“They must have been annoyed with my parents not wanting to sell,” Lily mused.
“I think a lot of people were annoyed with your parents.” Johnny bristled when Nancy glared at him.
“Sorry, but it’s true. It seemed to be all any of the adults around here talked about, and the conversations were rarely calm.
I found it all fascinating and developed some pretty impressive eavesdropping skills. ”
Lily smiled at him. He wasn’t actually that awkward when he relaxed.
As though her smile gave him permission, he drifted further into the room.
“You got that old album out,” he remarked, looking at it on the coffee table. “Nancy used that thing like a security blanket for a while. It was practically tucked into bed beside her at night.”
“Johnny!” Nancy snapped. “You’re really annoying. Go away, will you?”
Catching Lily’s eye, he flashed an amused look and wandered out again.
“Why did you want to know if the Bramfords would have sold to the developer?” Nancy asked once he’d gone.
Nerves rippled along her spine. Being around Nancy was so effortless that she’d let her guard down.
“I don’t know anything about that time,” she said. “My uncle didn’t talk about any of it when I was growing up, so I feel as though I’m in the dark.”
“And he still won’t talk to you about it?” Nancy asked.
“He died a year ago.”
Nancy pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Life just won’t stop kicking you, will it? You poor thing.”
“It’s okay,” Lily said, then hesitated. “It’s actually pretty terrible. I miss him. And I was never particularly curious about my past until he died. Now I have all these questions and no one to ask.”
“You can always ask me,” Nancy said. “Most of what I know is what my mum told me later.” She clicked her fingers. “You should ask Roy Morley. He’d be the person to talk to.”
“Who?”
“Roy was the local police officer when we were kids.”
“I thought about speaking to the police,” Lily said. “But I assumed they probably wouldn’t be able to tell me much. I already have all the official documents which are public records.”
“Roy’s retired. There’s nothing to stop him from talking to you. And I bet he’d be happy to. He was always a sweetie. He’d let us try on his police hat and would flash the lights on the car when we asked him to.”
Lily smiled at the thought of pestering the local police officer as a kid. That would amuse Flynn.
She looked hopefully at Nancy. “Do you know where I might find him?”