Anthony’s face was ashen, and he checked his watch. ‘I need to get back to work.’
‘Oh, okay.’ The ending to the funeral didn’t feel right, a full stop when it should be a comma. Liv waited, hoping he’d reconsidered Essie’s very strange request and was going to admit itwasridiculous.
Instead, he took out his phone. ‘I’ll call you a taxi,’ he said. ‘We’ll speak about your new role soon.’
He returned to his own car and Liv stamped her feet to warm them up.
As Anthony drove away, she saw him dab his nose with his handkerchief and questions ricocheted inside her head.
Why wouldn’t Essie want more for herself than this?
Why did she choose me?
Chapter 6
Candyfloss Clouds
After the funeral Liv returned to Essie’s building to wash her face before she went home and had to pretend everything was normal to Jake and Johnny. Not wanting to face any strangers in the lift, she headed for the stairwell instead. As she trekked her way towards the top of the thirty-two flights, she regretted her choice. By the time she unlocked the flat door, she struggled to catch her breath and her legs wobbled.
Inside the hallway, Liv held her sides and immediately noticed the brown shrivelled heads of lilies strewn on the tabletop. She hadn’t returned to the flat since Anthony told her about Essie’s death, and a layer of dust coated everything. Liv felt guilty as she picked up the flower heads. She vacuumed and wiped all the surfaces, before finally splashing her cheeks with water. It felt wrong to be commemorating Essie by cleaning.
There was a void in the pit of her stomach when she thought about the lack of a wake or memorial service. To hold her own toast to Essie, Liv found a bottle of Moët & Chandon in a kitchen cupboard and didn’t care if it was tepid.
Her bottom lip quivered as she glanced out of the writing-room window at the viaduct and orange-topped market stalls below.People in the streets were as small as speech marks. She slid a copy ofFew and Far Betweenoff a bookshelf and stood it on the desk to display the author photo inside.
Liv crashed down into Essie’s writing chair with a resounding creak that filled the flat. She half expected to hear Essie’s voice demand, ‘What onearthare you doing in my seat, Olivia?’ But there was only the sound of a ticking clock.
Liv popped the cork, poured herself a large glass of champagne and held it aloft. ‘You were prickly and complicated, Essie, but you were also amazing and… you gave Georgia Rory to me, and to the world. You have no idea how she helped me to be stronger.’ Her voice broke. ‘You’d started to show faith in me that I don’t have in myself…’
Unable to say anything else, Liv gulped the bubbly liquid and found some music on her phone. To stop herself from crying, she waltzed around the room, spraying Fracas onto her neck and wrists. As she sashayed, she picked up Essie’s green scarf and tied it into her hair. Dancing did little to stop all her questions rearing up again and they crawled in Liv’s head like wasps swarming out of their nest. She couldn’t understand why Essie had asked her to complete Book Twenty, especially as they’d only just started talking together properly, and there was a draft copy of the manuscript sitting on a bookshelf. Why keep Essie’s death a secret until the first of November? How was Liv going todothis?
She carried the champagne bottle and glass into the award room. Picking up the manuscript once more she flicked through it, her eyes skimming the pages.
Essie’s writing became messier as her work progressed,and Liv peered closer, trying to make out some of the more indecipherable words. There were lots of sentences crossed out and scrawled notes in the margins.
When she reached the last page, Liv frowned and her mouth dried. The end chapter was numbered thirty-two, but that couldn’t possibly be right. Each Georgia Rory novel was forty chapters long. She pulled a few of Essie’s other books off the shelf and checked their length to confirm she was correct. When it became apparent the last eight chapters of the manuscript were missing, Liv slumped a shoulder against the wall.
The author’s novels always followed the same structure. In their last fifth, Georgia found herself in increasing amounts of trouble, until all seemed lost and she was on the verge of defeat. That’s when she dug deep and found reserves of pluckiness and skill. She teamed up with a love interest to turn the tables on the bad guys. Georgia won a battle against the odds, and had some kind of epiphany, before riding off into the sunset with the man of her dreams. She gave young girls a role model to aspire to, and adult readers a global adventure their own nine-to-five lives didn’t allow. Georgia was brave and ballsy, a writer and intrepid adventurer who lived and loved with abandon. Liv wished she had half her bravery.
Liv drank another glass of champagne and shook her head. Trying to complete Essie’s book was a stupid impossibility, especially with a big chunk of it missing.
With an urge to find out if the absent chapters existed,she began to hunt around the flat, sliding books off shelves, opening drawers and cupboard doors. She always cleaned thoroughly and didn’t recall seeing another chunk of paper anywhere. Could the missing work be in Essie’s yellow notebook?
After circling the flat twice, Liv huffed and carried the champagne bottle into Essie’s bedroom. Setting it down on the bedside table, she lifted the pillows as a last resort.
When she saw a small green leather box sitting under one of them, she momentarily held her breath. The box hadn’t been there when she last changed the bed linen. Essie must have placed it there before she went into hospital. It had gold embossed lettering on the top and Liv recognized the name of the posh city centre jewellery shop, Longley Jones. It sold ten-thousand-pound wedding rings, and the staff looked like models.
Liv flipped it open to find a pair of men’s cufflinks. They were gold, intricately cast and shaped like bees. ‘Hmm.’ She stared at them for a while, remembering the tiny bees on Anthony’s handkerchief. Could they possibly belong to him?
Liv gnawed her lip, wondering whether to contact the solicitor or not.
If she told Anthony she couldn’t finish Essie’s book, she’d be making herself redundant. She’d lose six months’ double pay, and the thought of trawling the internet for more work, or queuing up at the recruitment office, made her queasy. Her pay raise would be useful for Paperpress and her boys’ university costs. It had always been her dream to be a writer, though never in this way.
After yet another glass of champagne, Liv sat down on Essie’s bed and took out her mobile phone. ‘Hey,’ she said tipsily when Anthony answered.
‘Sorry, who is this?’ he said.
‘It’s Liv. I’m having a toast to Essie. Onmy own,’ she said. When she closed her eyes, her head suddenly felt floppy. Her heart dipped when she pictured Essie’s polished wooden casket. Georgia’s bravery in her system trickled away, replaced by worry.‘I’m not sure I can do this, Anthony. I only clean for her… I vacuum and dust and mop. I know you’ve promised me extra money, but…’ She let out a long sigh.
