Chapter 9
The Rough Tor pub suited its name. Halloween decorations didn’t hide peeling wallpaper and a chunk of missing plaster.
The tables were scratched and the carpet was stained.
However, the bar and glasses shone like beacons of light guiding the way.
Immediately, Lili could tell why Em had chosen this place.
It confirmed all of Lili’s hopes that she’d faked her death and run away from such a difficult time in her life.
Laughing punters had got into the Halloween spirit, wearing an array of witches’ hats, skeleton jumpers and zombie make-up.
Lili had booked a room, not knowing if Em would come straight from the airport.
It meant Lili could stay up as late as she wanted, catching up with her friend’s news.
She’d decked it out in the way she and Em always prepared their lounge for the spookiest night of the year, with suitably themed snacks and a bottle of caramel apple Martini.
Only a double room had been available, which was fine.
Travelling the world, Em and Lili had often crashed out together, Em shrieking about how Lili would dribble on the pillow during her sleep, Lili waking in the morning to find her friend had stolen most of the duvet.
Happy memories the last year had lacked.
A spurt of emotion flared in Lili’s chest, unpleasant, angry, a sense of having been betrayed even.
Had Em ever stopped to think how much her actions would devastate those who loved her?
How could she make her parents, make Lili, go through a funeral? Had things really been that bad?
And breathe… The main thing was that Em would soon be back. There’d be plenty of time to hear her explanations.
Lili smoothed down her pumpkin-themed jumper and headed to the bar.
She perched on a stool and ordered a glass of wine.
Em would have grinned and called her a posh idiot.
Bottles of beer were more her style. Lili pulled out her phone.
Three minutes to eight. Two messages. One from Tommo, one from Meg, both wishing her luck, despite their reservations.
Lili hadn’t thought anyone had noticed her struggle this last year.
She’d put on a smile for staff and customers, gone home up to Manchester with Easter eggs in the spring, hosted northern friends from the Oxfam shop who’d visited Cornwall in the summer, danced at a beach party, eaten pasties and ice creams with gusto, got to know a visiting American, a nice, no-strings holiday romance if you could call two weeks of hangovers that.
Life was tough for most people these days; Lili wasn’t going to drag others down.
That had been the great thing about living with Em.
They’d show each other everything, the good, the bad and the fugly, as they joked.
They’d get the bad stuff out of their systems. That way it never festered.
Bobbin the robin had been Lili’s only true listening ear since Em.
Five minutes past eight. Someone sat down beside her.
She looked up to meet the gaze of a man in a Dracula cape with black shoulder-length hair and a shadow of stubble.
He was nothing like pale Em, who consistently dyed vivid colours into her boring mousey hair.
Well, she called it that. To Lili it was a lovely shade of brown.
The man was around Lili’s age and kind of cute.
Okay, he was hot! She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He was up there with Glen Powell, she admitted to herself, but real, here, with an earthiness coupled with a friendly smile.
Em would have given Lili a pointed look and then gone over to chat him up.
Em.
Her being five minutes late turned into ten, turned into twenty.
Soon it was a quarter to nine and Lili was on her second glass of wine.
The man next to her hadn’t moved either and kept glancing at the clock above the bar.
With a heavy feeling, she watched the funny impromptu dancing going on by the jukebox as themed song after song played, ‘Monster Mash’ being the current favourite.
Punctual Em would have been early if anything.
At that moment the door opened and both she and the man next to her jumped as someone came through the door. A woman, around Em’s height, with bright purple hair, crowned with black evil queen horns – that was so like Em to stand out!
Oh my God, it was really her! The nightmare was over!
Lili waved, heart thumping, heart singing!
The woman took off her mask. She gave Lili a friendly smile before… she turned away.
Lili gulped, hand still in the air.
Time stood still. Reality slapped her on the cheek. She downed the remainder of the wine and wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.
‘You okay?’ asked the man next to her, now looking as miserable as she felt. ‘You’ve been stood up too?’ She couldn’t answer. He held out his hand. ‘Dylan. Dylan Davis. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Lili Taylor.’ She slipped her hand into his. It felt warm and somehow comforting. She pulled hers away, having left it there for several seconds.
‘Sorry. Just a bit distracted. I’ve been waiting for Em, my friend. We… we haven’t seen each other for ages, but I finally heard from her.’
Dylan gestured at her glass. ‘Fancy another?’
Lili paused. ‘Why not?’
The barman topped up her glass and passed the man another beer.
‘How long is it since the two of you have been in touch?’ asked Dylan.
‘It’s been a year since…’ Lili exhaled. ‘Since her funeral.’
Dylan put down his beer.
Lili gave a small smile. ‘It’s complicated and my colleagues think I’m crazy but…
I sent her phone number a Knock Knock joke, you see.
It was our thing to go straight to the punchline if we knew the answer.
The reply came back. She did! It must have been her!
’ God, it was good to talk to someone objective.
Perhaps the wine had loosened her tongue, but who cared? She’d never see this guy again.
‘Wait, what? A Knock Knock joke?’ Dylan’s skin turned a shade as pale as the chalky skin of the man dressed as a ghost behind him, no mean feat as Dylan’s had a sun-kissed depth to it.
‘Then Em told me she’d been travelling, and I realised…
What if she faked her own death? You hear about that sort of thing, don’t you?
’ continued Lili. ‘But she hasn’t turned up and I’m left wondering…
hoping still that…’ Lili talked about their cottage in Truro and how she’d not had the heart to move anything into Em’s old room.
She gave an apologetic look. ‘Sorry. Rambling.’ She gulped her wine. ‘Who are you waiting for?’
Dylan brushed a hand through his hair, pulling it back, making his features more prominent – the strong eyebrows, the sharp jawline and eyes as black as a witch’s cauldron. What would he be like to kiss?
For God’s sake. Get a grip, Lili. He’s not the person you wanted to see tonight. He’s not your best friend ever.
‘My brother. Harry. You see… he’s a huge fan of pranks. He’s been travelling too, and I thought…’ An expression she couldn’t read crossed his features. ‘He sent me a Knock Knock joke. It’s a while since we’ve been in contact too.’
‘Oh, that’s a coincidence!’
Dylan bit his lip.
Her chest tightened. Unless…
Oh.
Fuck.
Unless it wasn’t.
‘But you went straight for the punchline.’ Her voice wavered.
‘Harry and I always try to outwit each other. I’m so sorry. It was an easy Knock Knock joke, I guess, with really only one answer.’
‘Why did you say you were travelling? Or were you?’ She studied him intensely.
‘To catch him out. That’s why I said I was travelling like you – to let Harry know that I’d realised the random text was from him .
It’s exactly the sort of thing he’d do. I was hoping he was back.
Even if he does drive me mad. I mean really mad.
Harry set a fake account up on Tinder and fooled me into a prank blind date with him once.
He’s signed me up to weird newsletters, hidden alarms in my bedroom and covered my laptop screen with a fake cracked one.
That’s why I didn’t let on that I had no idea who the text was from.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
And the word “interloper” also convinced me it was him. ’
‘Why?’ A lump had formed in her throat. Em wasn’t coming.
That meant… Of course it did…
Em. Wasn’t. Alive.
‘We come from Tavistock, born and bred in Devon. Bodmin is in Cornwall…’
Oh, yes, the old rivalry between those two counties, like the scone debate over whether you spread on jam or cream first.
Lili put a hand over her heart, acid rising in her chest as if she’d actually eaten something horrible.
‘Why did you use the word?’ he asked. ‘Oh, hang on, your accent… You’re a northerner, right?’
‘Em and I grew up in Manchester but moved down here after travelling together in our early twenties,’ she said, straining to keep her voice steady. ‘Why did you suggest meeting at The Rough Tor?’
‘For old time’s sake – Harry and I had a crazy Halloween night here years ago.
We were teens. A mate from our football club invited us.
His parents used to run this place. We got stone drunk on booze we nicked from the bar and then went trick or treating at midnight and woke a load of locals up.
’ He gave a wry smile. ‘The police had a firm word with us and our mate was grounded for a month. Harry and I still live together now, and even though life’s been a lot more peaceful with him being away…
it’s too peaceful. Though I’d never tell him that.
But this isn’t about me and my brother.’ He cleared his throat.
‘What made you text your friend after all this time?’
‘I…’ She gulped and couldn’t continue. ‘Sorry. I just need a moment.’
His face flushed. ‘Don’t you apologise. This mess is down to me. I feel like a complete shit.’
Lili raced to the toilets. She stood in a cubicle for what seemed like an age, locked the door and bit on her fist. A tear rolled down her cheek. She punched the door. Did it again.
‘You okay in there?’ asked a voice.
Lili tore off a piece of toilet roll, wiped her eyes, flushed the chain and left the cubicle, apologising to the queue waiting for being so long. She returned to her seat.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said.
‘Honestly, don’t worry.’
‘I texted because it was the first anniversary of her death. How come you’ve got her phone?’
He looked puzzled and handed his over.
‘Oh. Yours is a different model to Em’s.’
‘I’ve got two phones. I decided to get this one for personal use and to use my other one for business only. That way I’m not bothered by work stuff out of hours. I emailed my new number to everyone, including Harry.’
‘Who’s your provider?’ she asked. Why didn’t Lili listen to Tommo and Meg? It was all falling into place. His provider was the same as Em’s. ‘Right. They must reuse old numbers once contracts aren’t renewed. I was told they didn’t.’ She curled her fists in her lap.
‘They only take it out of service for the first six months after someone dies… I read that in the contract when I signed.’
‘Oh. Right. Six months? Most of this year I’ve been texting her, talking about my problems, how I miss her… Did you read some of those texts as well? They were private! You should have messaged back before.’
‘Lili… slow down… remember, I thought your messages were from Harry. I wouldn’t have believed that if I’d been getting loads of texts all this time. That wasn’t his way. His jokes were always spontaneous. And I only got this phone a few weeks ago.’
‘No, of course, sorry, I’m not thinking straight.’
She couldn’t look him in the eye. She’d texted Em about a date she’d made herself go on, just to get out, about a doctor’s appointment, about personal memories they shared.
Dylan clicked into the message from Lili and passed the phone to her.
‘Scroll back. Put your mind at rest.’
‘No… I believe you.’
He held his palms in the air. ‘I insist.’
Her finger flicked up the screen. He was right. Dylan also showed her the receipt for when he bought the phone. He wasn’t lying.
Those messages to Em had gone nowhere, into the ether, into the ashes of a phone that had probably melted in the fire. Suddenly the buoyant happiness, the excited bustle of the pub weighed her down. Ridiculously unhealthy snacks would help but she couldn’t face going up to her room alone.
‘I… I booked a room, for me and Em. Pointless now. We used to love Halloween.’
Lili would never normally go into a private space with a man she hardly knew, but tonight wasn’t a normal evening. And she’d got to know Dylan. A bit. He wasn’t a liar, at least – and after what happened to Em, with Sean, that was the most important thing.
‘Fancy some caramel apple Martini and all-you-can-eat in Halloween-themed crisps and sweet treats?’