Chapter 13
Poppy woke earlier than she intended, and for a few moments she lay still, a little disorientated and unsure what had disturbed her.
The villa was silent and, if she was honest, it was something she still hadn’t grown used to. There was no distant traffic, no doors slamming, and no muffled television from another flat.
Then the memory surfaced.
The drive home. Jem knowing where he was going, even though he hadn’t asked for directions.
She stared at the ceiling, replaying everything in her head. Had she mentioned the address at any point in the conversation, or had Keira?
There had to be a rational explanation for how Jem had known where they were staying. She would ask Keira, and if necessary, she would ask Jem too.
Unable to settle, she slipped out of bed and pulled on leggings and a loose sweatshirt.
Across the hall, Keira’s door remained closed and there was no sound coming from the living area of the villa, which suggested she was still asleep.
It was unusual for her friend to be the last to rise, but they had shared a bottle of wine last night after Jem had dropped them off. Plus, yesterday’s walk must have worn her out.
Poppy kept her movements quiet, not wanting to disturb her. She opened the patio doors, hoping to let the sun in the villa, but the air held a slight chill this morning and the breeze was cooler than it had been the last few days, carrying the distant hush of the sea.
She made coffee, then glanced at her laptop on the dining table where she’d left it yesterday, conscious she had work to do.
Sitting down, she opened it and stared at the manuscript for less than a minute before closing it again.
There was no way she could concentrate.
Her mind kept circling back.
He didn’t ask where we lived.
Poppy grabbed her bag and keys.
She would pick up breakfast, she decided. Maybe the walk down to the seafront would clear her head.
Despite the early hour, the village was quiet but not empty. A delivery van was parked outside the mini-market and the same man stood behind the counter.
He nodded a greeting to her. ‘Early start for you.’
‘Lots to do,’ she told him, managing a smile.
She took her time over her selections, picking up pastries, fresh fruit and salad, yoghurt, cheese and a loaf of bread.
It was here she had first bumped into Jem, she remembered, as she paid and left the store. A random encounter that had led to a budding friendship. One she was now doubting the sincerity of, simply because she couldn’t explain it.
Which was absolutely ridiculous, as Jem had done nothing to deserve her distrust.
She took her phone out and started to type a message to him.
About last night. How did you know where we lived?
She frowned at the screen, realising the question made her sound paranoid. Deleting the words, she locked the phone and slipped it back into her bag.
Keira would be up when she got back. Poppy would ask her, and if Keira hadn’t said anything, then perhaps she would casually bring it up in conversation when she had dinner with Jem on Friday.
There would be a reasonable explanation. There had to be.
The walk home felt longer than before. Probably because it was on a slight incline.
Clouds drifted across the sun and the road lay empty ahead of her. When the villa came into view, she slowed slightly, not consciously meaning to.
The gate was ajar.
Poppy frowned. Had she closed it properly after her? She was sure she had.
It was probably just the wind. Unless Keira had been outside too.
She pushed it open and stepped into the garden, taking care to make sure it definitely clicked behind her.
Inside the villa, there was no sign of Keira. She expected to hear movement: the kettle, the shower, music from her phone. But the house was still. The patio doors were locked and there was only the one coffee mug that Poppy had used sitting on the kitchen counter.
She surely wasn’t still in bed.
‘Keira?’
There was no answer.
Poppy moved through the villa, heading into the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
‘Keira? Where are you?’ she called again, louder this time.
Maybe she had gone for a walk.
Her bedroom door was still shut. Poppy knocked lightly, then when there wasn’t an answer, she gently pushed it open, stepping inside. There was no sign of her friend and the room looked unused.
Unease crept in.
The bed was neatly made, but that wasn’t unusual for Keira.
What did strike Poppy as odd was there were none of her things out.
That first day after they had arrived and Poppy had returned from the shop to find Martin and Elena in the villa, Keira’s room had looked spotless like this, but that was because she hadn’t fully unpacked.
Poppy knew for a fact that it hadn’t been like this since.
She checked the wardrobe, remembering that Keira had stored her suitcase in there. It was empty. There was no suitcase, no clothes on the hangers, and no shoes in the bottom.
Her stomach dipped.
‘Okay…’ she murmured under her breath. ‘She has to be somewhere.’
Determined not to panic, Poppy crossed the hall and opened her own bedroom door.
Everything was exactly as she’d left it.
Quicker now, her shoulders tensing as unease built, she checked the other bedrooms and the bathrooms before going back into the kitchen.
‘Keira?’ she called again. Louder now.
She went out onto the terrace, checking the pool and the garden – even peering over the wall.
Nothing.
She pulled out her phone and called her friend. It rang out, but there was no answer, and she couldn’t hear it in the villa.
Unless it was on silent, which would be unusual for Keira, it wasn’t in the house.
After it cut to voicemail, she hung up. Tried again. This time, the automated voice kicked in straightaway. Poppy didn’t leave a message, but she did open WhatsApp. Keira kept her settings private, so there was no way of knowing when she had last been online.
Where are you?
She hit send. Not liking that only one tick showed up on the screen.
A cold sensation crept over her. It was unlike Keira to just leave without saying anything. So where the hell was she?