Side by side, we turn up Furze Lane, past the row of terraced flint cottages, their small windows dimly lit, coils of wood smoke coming from two of the chimneys. Then beneath the trees on either side, the lane narrows. Deeprose House is still a few yards ahead, but Hollie stops suddenly.
“We’ll go this way.” She points toward a metal farm gate, the top bar of which is wrapped in barbed wire. Undeterred, she climbs over into a field of thick grass, waiting for me to join her, before heading toward the middle of it. “There’s a back way.”
My head fills with questions, but I don’t ask any of them. Being with Hollie is how it was with Dylan. It’s an escape into a world so different from mine that at times like now, I don’t question her, just allow myself to be swept along for the ride.
At the other side of the field, there’s a post and rail fence, which we slip through.
“This way.” Hollie skips through an orchard where last year’s apples lie mostly unused, rotting underfoot. As we reach the other side, she stops and gestures dramatically at the stark hedges, beyond which a sweep of lawn slopes uphill toward the house. “Crazy, isn’t it.” She shakes her head. “I mean the Penns . . . They have a place like this, but half the time, they’re not even here.”
If I had a house like this, I’d never want to leave it, but right now, the gardens have a wildness about them, from being untouched. There are dead flowers and fallen leaves everywhere I look. As I glance toward the house, taking in its cold walls and dark windows, I shiver. “We shouldn’t be here, Hollie.” Then, in one of the windows, I think a light flickers. I clutch at Hollie’s arm, pointing to it. “Look.”
For a moment she stares, then she says, “There’s nothing there.”
“It’s gone off now,” I persist. “But I’m sure I saw something. There must be someone in the house.”
“There isn’t,” she flashes, raising her voice. “I told you, Niamh. They’re away.”
For a moment, I imagine a face in one of the windows, watching us. “We should go,” I tell her, suddenly uneasy.
But she ignores me. “Come on! I want to show you something!” She starts marching toward a gap in the hedge. Reluctantly, I follow her through into a rectangular area, surrounded by tall hedges and carpeted in fallen leaves. Bending down to pick something up, Hollie grabs my arm. “Listen.”
She throws something into the middle of the leaves. After a couple of seconds, there’s a loud splash as it hits water. “The pool,” Hollie says casually.
I shrink back against the hedge. With all the leaves, it’s impossible to tell where the ground ends and the water starts. Suddenly I’m freaked out. “Why have we come here?”
It’s as if someone’s walked over her grave. There’s a look of desolation on Hollie’s face. “Let’s go,” she mumbles.
Spooked by the dark house and the invisible pool under the leaves, I’ve no desire to change her mind. But when we get home, my father’s car is in the drive and Hollie refuses to come in.
* * *
“I gave Ida Jones a lift earlier.” Still wearing her airline uniform, my mother’s slipped off her shoes and undone her hair so that it hangs down past her shoulders. “I need to change.” Picking up her shoes, she’s halfway out of the kitchen when she pauses. “She said she saw you and Hollie walking together.”
She tries to make it sound light, conversational, but I know what she’s going to ask.
“Where did you go?”
I shrug. “Just for a walk.”
My mother frowns slightly. “Ida said someone saw you in Furze Lane.”
Irritation flares in me. “So?”
“You weren’t just walking, were you, Niamh? You were seen climbing over a gate. You can’t go onto other people’s private property like that.” She sounds annoyed.
I frown at her, trying to imagine what kind of small-minded gossiping villager told Ida exactly where we were. “We went for a walk, that’s all. It was a mistake. It’s not like there’s anything else to do around here.”
“It’s no excuse,” she snaps.
I stare at her, wondering why she’s so angry with me. Flinching as her anger ricochets off the walls at me; stings.
6
Elise
As days pass, there seems no end to this dismal winter. Ice and snow disrupt flights, while the tension between me and Andrew escalates as my schedule changes at short notice. On the third day, my flight is canceled. That I am at home instead of conveniently out of his way at thirty-five thousand feet has implications for Andrew’s love life.
“I thought you were in Zurich tonight.” Not expecting me to be here, he doesn’t attempt to hide his irritation. As always, he gives no thought to Niamh. Home early, he’d planned to shower and change before going out again, leaving her here alone.
“The flight was canceled. Does it make any difference to anything?” It’s an innocent enough question he chooses not to answer, instead storming upstairs, reappearing ten minutes later wearing different clothes, before grabbing his jacket and walking out without speaking to me. Minutes later, when I hear a car pull up outside, my heart sinks. I imagine Andrew coming back for something, preparing myself for another verbal onslaught, but instead, there’s a knock at the door. When I open it, James is there.
“James.” His face is pale, his eyes flitting about nervously.
“Is something wrong? Would you like to come in?”
“I won’t stop, Elise. I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen Hollie.”
“Not since...” I think back, remembering seeing Hollie run across the garden, from an upstairs window. “Well, she was here one evening last week, but I didn’t talk to her. I have a feeling she was avoiding me.”
His face wrinkles into a frown. “Why would you say that?”
“Oh...” I try to remember our conversation. “To be honest, I think she’d skipped school that day. I made some comment about it being important that she didn’t get behind.”
James nods. “They called me a while ago. Seems she’s skipped quite a few days recently.” He doesn’t say how many. “Do you know if Niamh’s seen her?”
It’s in line with what Stephanie told me, but warning bells are ringing. “I don’t think so, but if you wait, I’ll go upstairs and ask her.”
Leaving him alone, I go to find Niamh. “Niamh?” When I push her door open, she’s engrossed in one of her schoolbooks. “Have you seen Hollie at all the last couple of days?”
Her face is blank as she shakes her head. “Why?”
“Her dad wondered, that’s all. I’ll tell him.” Not wanting her to worry unnecessarily, I go back down to tell James. “She hasn’t seen her. Is Hollie OK, James?”
He freezes. “To be honest, I don’t know. We’ve been in touch with the police. Look, I need to get going. I’m trying to talk to everyone in the village before it gets too late.”
“Let me know?” At the thought that something might have happened to Hollie, my heart is thudding in my chest. “When she comes back?”
He nods, before turning to walk away. I close the door and seconds later hear his car start, then its tires on the gravel before the sound gradually fades away.
Niamh’s voice from the doorway startles me. “Why was he here?”
“Hollie’s