Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Tempting as it was to put off facing her childhood home, Lily let her irritation over her conversation with Marcie fuel her into action.
Bypassing Kingfisher Cottage, she walked to the end of Riverview Road.
There, a footpath branched off to hug the river, while the road twisted tightly back on itself in a steep incline.
Around the corner, Riverview Road became Riverview Close. Lily’s old address.
Street signs declared it to be a dead end and for residents only. Her stomach churned with nerves as she slowed her pace on the incline. Past the first couple of houses, she paused.
She hadn’t spotted it from the road below, but an alleyway connected the close and the road. The shortcut was via steep stone steps cast in shade by overgrown hedges. Beyond the road at the bottom, more steps continued to the riverbank and a small wooden platform jutting out over the water.
As a trickle of unease ran down Lily’s spine, she didn’t linger.
Passing the next house, Lily let her gaze linger on the property where a couple of mountain bikes leaned against the side of the modest home. She knew from her previous visit it belonged to her old neighbours, the Grahams.
The front window gave her a view of a cosy living room with a green couch and a wall of bookcases.
Mr and Mrs Graham had moved in only a few months before Harper Developments made their offer.
According to Richard Harper’s file, they hadn’t jumped at the offer, but weren’t completely against selling either.
Lily’s heart pounded as she continued towards her childhood home.
Set back from the road, she didn’t have a clear view until she was directly in front.
It had been completely rebuilt after the fire, and Lily knew from her brief visit a year ago that being back there didn’t stir any memories, but she braced for it anyway – some jolt from the past that would make her feel connected.
The garden was neat, and the house had a newness to it despite being twenty years old now. It stuck out somehow, as though the nature surrounding it hadn’t fully accepted it.
A dog barked inside, and the sound got Lily moving again. There was nothing there for her now. The people inside couldn’t help her, and any evidence pertaining to the fire had gone up in smoke two decades ago.
The next house was a little larger than the others. Wide steps led to the front door, the pale stone flanked by terracotta pots at uniform intervals. The brass knocker shone against a door painted a demure shade of cream.
The garden was perfectly trimmed, and the borders edged with military precision. Even the gravel in the driveway lay smooth and orderly, with hardly a weed or fallen leaf to be seen – quite a feat given the time of year.
Lily stood still.
This was the house she’d slept in the night her parents died. She’d had a friend here, but try as she might she couldn’t recall her face or her name.
A flash of childish giggles rang in her mind. The notion of chasing each other through the garden came in short, blurry bursts. Only snatches of memories – snippets of sounds and images. None were solid, and she couldn’t even be sure they were true and not conjured by her mind to fill the void.
Shifting her gaze to the upstairs windows, she tried to recall what had been on the other side of the glass – a little girl’s bedroom, perhaps?
Nothing came.
Not remembering unsettled her. She’d had a life in this little corner of the world, but there was no proof of it beyond other people’s words.
Movement in the downstairs window caught her eye. She’d fully intended to knock on the door and introduce herself, but now she wasn’t sure she was ready.
The front door swung open, and a middle-aged woman stepped out. That took away Lily’s need to make a decision.
The woman – who she assumed was Samantha Weston – was neatly put together in a way that looked effortless. Black jeans clung to her legs, and a cable-knit sweater sat smoothly against her lithe frame.
Lily moved along the drive as though drawn to her.
A delicate gold chain rested at her collarbone while a glossy chestnut bob curved with her jawline. Her make-up was subtle: a sweep of mascara, soft blush, and lipstick that almost looked natural.
Swiftly, she took Lily in from head to toe, then her features settled into soft and sympathetic.
Only then did Lily’s eyes drop to the woman’s feet.
The oversized pink fluffy slippers were so at odds with the rest of the outfit that it almost made her laugh.
“It’s Lily, isn’t it?” she asked, her brows pinching together as she stopped on the bottom step. “Vanessa messaged me and said you were visiting.”
“Are you Samantha?”
She nodded and clutched at the gold chain. “Do you remember me?”
“No.” Stopping before her, Lily groped for words. “I heard about you. That you were friends with my mum, and that I…” Her eyes went to the upstairs windows. “Was I friends with your daughter?”
Samantha looked lost in thought for a moment. Her eyes searched Lily’s features, presumably looking for the four-year-old she’d known. With a gentle shake of the head, she seemed to rejoin the conversation.
“You and Nancy were always together. In and out of each other’s houses and gardens like you had two homes. It was heartbreaking…” Her chin quivered. “I’m sorry. This is quite emotional for me, so I can’t imagine how it is for you. Would you like to come in?”
“Umm.” Lily had got fixated on the name of her childhood friend.
Nancy. It stirred nothing except more annoyance at her lack of memories.
She glanced around as though searching for an answer to Samantha’s question.
This was what she’d come for – to talk to the people who’d known her and her parents.
She couldn’t back out now.
“Yes, please. That would be good.”
“Lovely.” Her slippers slapped against the stone steps as she led the way inside. “Do you remember the house?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. “We’ve made changes over the years, but the bones of it are the same.”
“I don’t remember much from back then. I have a few memories of my parents, but they’re not clear.”
Samantha waited, closing the door behind Lily and telling her not to worry about taking her shoes off.
“I suppose it makes sense that you don’t remember much.
” She set off down a long hallway, the white walls elegantly displaying family photographs in gold frames.
“You were so little. I was on the phone to Nancy just ten minutes ago, telling her about you being in the village. She remembers you, but possibly because she grew up hearing stories about the two of you. And she’s two years older as well. That probably makes a difference.”
Lily stopped short in the large kitchen and stared out through the French doors.
It wasn’t the view across the river that captured her attention, but the notion that there should have been a playhouse in the corner of the garden in place of the gazebo.
Maybe the playhouse had been in her garden, or in another garden entirely.
Taking a few strides to the window, she tried to peek into her old garden, but the tall hedge made it impossible.
“Are you okay?” Samantha asked.
“Yes. Sorry. It’s just strange to be back here. Where does Nancy live now?”
“Not far away.” She gestured for Lily to take a seat at the large, glass-topped table. “Just over in Tresillian. She’s a veterinary nurse.”
“That’s nice,” Lily said, unsure how to respond.
“She’d love to see you again.”
Lily nodded. “I’d like to see her too.”
“Lovely. I’ll call her back later and let her know. We weren’t sure how you’d be feeling and didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
“It’s fine,” Lily said. “I was hoping to meet you and Nancy.”
“Where do you live now?” she asked, hovering behind a chair while Lily took a seat.
“London,” she lied. “With my boyfriend.”
“Is he here with you?”
“No. He’s working.”
“That’s a shame. Did you grow up in London? I tried to find out about you a couple of times, but after you went to live with your uncle, no one seemed to know what happened to you.”
“We moved around quite a bit,” she said. “How did you try to find out about me?”
“Through your grandmother. Poor woman.”
“Did you keep in touch with her?”
“Not really. She had a difficult time of it and riled a few people up. Marcie kept in touch with her. She owns the gift shop.”
“I met her briefly,” Lily said. “I didn’t realise she’d kept in touch with my grandmother. She didn’t mention it.”
“Only for a little while. They were friends once. But with everything that happened, Clara wasn’t the same in the end.
I visited her in the hospital a couple of times after her fall.
The first time she wasn’t conscious. Later, when she woke up from the coma, it was as though her mind had completely gone.
She muttered a few words of nonsense, but didn’t speak to me directly.
” She smiled sadly. “Marcie was very good. She’d visit and talk to her, but would get nothing back.
When Clara started talking again, she didn’t make sense.
According to Marcie, she would get very aggressive. She stopped visiting in the end.”
“How long was she in hospital?”
“I think about a month. Then she moved to a rehabilitation centre.”
“And after that?”
Samantha’s head jerked back. Silence stretched out before she spoke. “She was there for a few months, but never fully recovered.”
That didn’t answer Lily’s question. “Do you know the name of the clinic?”
She shook her head. “I can’t remember. It was somewhere out near Redruth, I think. In an old manor house. It closed years ago, though. I’m fairly sure they turned it into flats.”
“Do you know where Clara is now?”
“Now?” She stared at Lily in confusion. “She died.”
Lily chewed on her lip.
“That’s what I heard anyway,” Samantha said. “Isn’t it true? Is she still alive?”
“I’m not sure,” Lily said. “We weren’t in touch after her accident. My uncle cut ties with her, so I didn’t know much about her when I was growing up.”
“I imagine he did it to protect you. From what Marcie told me, Clara wasn’t fit to be around a child.” She drummed her fingers on the back of the chair. “Let me get you a cuppa and we can chat properly.”
Lily nodded, taking advantage of the space to gather her thoughts.