Chapter 33
The rain stops as abruptly as it began. Tilly notices the quiet as she steps from the bathroom back into her room, warm from a shower. It is late but she doesn’t feel close to going to sleep, the storm having stirred something in her. And she can’t stop thinking about Harper.
She has told herself she will wait until Harper comes to her, but she realizes how relieved she was that Constanza noticed her distress and coaxed her story out of her. Perhaps Harper has been waiting for Tilly to do the same.
There is no answer when Tilly pads barefoot into the brick-tiled corridor and knocks on Harper’s door.
She considers returning to her room but instead pushes lightly on the handle.
It swings open, revealing a room similar to Tilly’s – four-poster bed, white sheets, plain plaster walls, exposed beams, Harper’s suitcase open on the floor and her things strewn around.
A copy of the latest Sarah J. Maas is splayed on the walnut side table.
But there is no sign of Harper. The bathroom is empty too, so Tilly ventures downstairs.
Most of the lower floor is dark, apart from pale moonlight coming in through the open shutters.
Tilly follows the glow of lamplight to the kitchen where the lights are on, glinting on the copper pans hanging from the stone walls.
Just as she is about to give up, she notices the back door is ajar.
She goes to shut it but catches the sound of a voice coming from the garden, instantly recognizing it as belonging to her sister.
‘I know, I know …’
Tilly steps barefoot on to the terrace, the tiles slick with rain.
‘Yes, I promise I’m still going to tell her.’
It sounds as though the voice is coming from the courtyard at the side of the house.
‘But I wasn’t going to tell her today, was I?’ comes Harper’s voice as Tilly emerges into a moonlit courtyard where potted lemon trees form a square around a small fountain. Harper stands next to the fountain, her phone to her ear. Her eyes widen as she spots Tilly.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,’ she says, speaking into the phone, before hanging up.
‘Hey.’ Her voice is unnaturally bright, her expression reminiscent of when she fell out of the tree at the age of eleven, clearly hurting but trying to hide her pain.
The air is heavy with the smell of sun-warmed lemons, and in the background Tilly hears the quiet trickle of the fountain.
Behind them stands the darkened farmhouse, no sounds coming from inside.
Harper is still in her outfit from dinner, her green maxi dress damp from the earlier rain, her hair tangled.
‘I know about you and Raj,’ Tilly blurts.
Harper’s mouth drops open. She wraps her bare arms around herself.
‘You do?’ she says hesitantly. ‘And you’re … not mad?’
‘Why would I be mad? I get that you needed to work up to telling me in your own time.’
Harper lets her arms drop, pushing a damp strand of hair out of her face.
‘God, that is such a relief. These past months have been so hard keeping it from you …’
‘Months? You’ve been broken up for months?’
Harper and Raj came over for dinner. Was that just a front? And has Tilly really been so wrapped up in her own problems that it’s taken her this long to realize that her sister’s life has also been falling apart?
‘OK, maybe I do wish you’d told me earlier, but only so I could be there for you. If anyone understands heartache, it’s me.’ She attempts a smile but notices that Harper’s eyebrows are creased in a deep frown.
‘Broken up?’ A breeze ripples up the valley, making the leaves on the lemon trees shake and Harper’s hair blow back from her face. ‘We haven’t broken up. We’re getting married. I thought that’s what you meant.’
The words hit Tilly firmly in the chest, taking her breath away.
‘You’re … engaged?’
Harper nods slowly. When she speaks again there’s a pleading note to her voice.
‘I meant to tell you. I wanted to. But I just couldn’t find the right moment.’
‘But surely you would know I’d be happy for you both!’ Tilly ignores the twisting feeling in her stomach. She is happy. Isn’t she? ‘But you said it’s been months … When did you get engaged?’
Harper looks down at the fountain, gentle streams of water trickling on to stone.
‘In Sri Lanka.’
‘Sri Lanka? But that was last summer. You’ve been engaged for … a year?’
Harper nods, biting down on her bottom lip.
‘Jesus, Harper. A whole year …’ She rubs her forehead, her mind racing.
Everyone else must know. Their parents, Raj’s family, Harper’s friends, everyone except her …
‘God, I can’t deal with this right now. It’s Joe’s anniversary …’
‘That’s why I didn’t want to tell you today!’
‘Don’t put this on me!’
Harper flinches. ‘I’m sorry, I –’
‘Hold on,’ Tilly says, raising a hand as a memory from yesterday enters her mind. ‘I saw you on a dating app.’
Tilly can see Harper’s throat move as she swallows, looking up.
‘You saw that?’
‘I saw you on your phone yesterday. If you’re getting married, what were you doing on a dating app?’
Harper bites her lip again.
‘I wasn’t on there for myself. I was on there for you.’
‘What?’
‘I … I set you up a dating profile.’
From the waver in Harper’s voice and the way she steps backwards slightly, Tilly guesses that she must look as angry as she feels. Her whole body feels rigid.
‘Harper! I told you I wasn’t ready to date!’
‘I know. But I thought maybe if I found someone lovely and set it all up, you might change your mind.’
‘Show me the profile.’
She stretches her hand out, gesturing towards Harper’s phone.
‘Tils …’
‘It’s my profile, I should be able to see it.’
Harper hesitates before reluctantly handing over her phone. Tilly finds the dating app and opens it to see a profile page with her name, a smiling photo of her from a birthday a few years ago, and a brief description listing her hobbies as ‘reading, crafting and meeting new people’.
She spots a new message in the inbox and sees a message from someone called harrybaker90 answering a series of questions from tillyreads92 – aka Harper – about his profession and where he lives. There are a few other message exchanges like this, and as Tilly reads them nausea crawls in her stomach.
Harper watches her, clearly waiting for Tilly to say something, but no words come. She leaves the message thread and clicks through the photo gallery, stopping on one particular photo of her standing on a beach with salt-tangled hair and a wide smile.
‘You cropped Joe out of this photo.’
‘It’s a nice photo of you …’
‘Jesus, Harper. Can you not see how disrespectful this is? You’ve altered a photo of me and my dead husband and posted it for anyone to see, without my permission.’
There are tears pooling in Harper’s eyes and her voice is strained.
‘I was trying to help …’
‘This,’ she says, holding the phone up towards Harper, ‘is not helping. Not only have you completely ignored everything we’ve talked about but you’ve been impersonating me online.
What would have happened if harrybaker90 or any of these other guys bumped into me and recognized me? And I had no clue who they were?’
‘OK, maybe I didn’t think of that. But I just thought it might be good for you –’
‘No.’ Tilly flings the phone towards Harper, who just manages to catch it.
‘Tilly, please …’
Harper reaches out for Tilly’s arm but she shakes her off. Because she needs to get away. Coming here was a mistake. She needs to be at home. She needs Joe.
‘Stop. I don’t want to hear it. And I don’t want you to follow me.’
She leaves her sister behind in the moonlit courtyard.