She nodded gratefully. She said goodnight to everyone before leaving the room.
As she walked through reception in a haze, the man behind the desk beckoned to her. ‘I still need to register Ms Starling’s passport,’ he called out.
Liv fixed her eyes on the staircase and pretended not to hear him. When she reached the top step, she halted when she spied a gaggle of people hanging around on Essie’s floor. They clutched Georgia Rory books and seemed to be waiting for the author. ‘I think Essie Starling went that way,’ she pointed back down the stairs.
A man let out an excited yelp, and Liv waited for them all to disappear before she returned to the suite.
Outside, the scene now resembled a shrine. There were photos and notes pinned to the wall, a bottle of champagne and another basket of fruit. Messages exclaimed admiration, undying love and get well soon wishes for Essie. Liv bristled at how people knew. She scooped up the goodies and took three turns to heave them all into the room.
It was a little after eleven and Liv knew her adrenaline wouldn’t allow her to sleep for some time. She listened to an audiobook ofThe Accidental Touristby Anne Tyler and ran the jacuzzi. Before slipping into the water,she blinked at herself in the bathroom mirror, not really recognizing the person who stared back at her. It was someone she wanted to get to know better, someone who’d lost her direction in life and was now emerging from the shadows. But was it as Liv, or as Georgia Rory?
Chapter 19
Tattooed Hand
On her last morning in Croatia, Liv woke at 5.30 a.m., too early to phone home. The last couple of days had taken their toll, and her head lolled with tiredness as she packed her belongings into her suitcase.
After showering, she slathered on sun cream and dressed in a floral dress and comfy sandals, adding the striped tie loosely around her neck. It was a beautiful day, and she wanted to wander the streets of Dubrovnik before she tried to speak to Sven, after his meeting.
Holidays for Liv usually meant six weeks of planning for one week in the sun. It was a thankless task buying sun lotion that didn’t irritate Jake’s skin and shorts with zips so the boys’ mobile phones didn’t fall out. It was freeing not having to lug anyone else’s sunglasses or reading material around. She left the two manuscripts behind on the bed and took the empty tote bag.
She bade ‘Dobro jutro’ to a lady on the reception desk and wandered outside into the sunshine. The morning was already hot, and Liv bought bread from a baker’s shop for breakfast, tearing off pieces to eat while she waited at the bus stop.
During the twenty-minute journey into the city, she listened to Euro disco playing on the bus radio and realized she’d left her mobile phone back at the hotel.
After a few moments of panic, she knew it was too late to go back. She gazed out of the window and decided to embrace the rare freedom of being uncontactable.
The bus arrived at the Pile Gate, the main entrance to the city walls, and Liv hopped off. A woman dressed all in black and wearing a white headdress sat on a low stool making lace. She had a pile of postcards at her feet for sale and Liv picked up a few and handed over some kuna.
She made her way across a beautiful old stone bridge that was once a drawbridge. The Stradun stretched before her, a long square with shiny limestone paving stones and a statuesque white clock tower. Liv walked along it with her chin raised, taking in the wooden-shuttered windows, arched doorways and a majestic domed cathedral. She felt like Alice stepping into Wonderland.
It felt strange not having to chastise Jake for walking one metre in front of her, or to referee Mack and Johnny’s squabbling. She could turn corners and slip down streets without prior negotiation of who wanted to do what.
Most of the shops were still closed, and there weren’t many people around yet. Liv meandered, looking in windows at handcrafted leather handbags, and chocolate truffles with curls of coconut on top. On one of the side streets, a man stood in a doorway and held out a plate full of crystallized orange slices and caramelized almonds. ‘You try.’ He gestured.
‘Hvala,’ Liv said and crunched into the sugary orange. ‘Delicious.’ She bought three small bags and asked him how to find Bar Boca.
He pointed towards a narrow street. ‘Look for the gap in the wall.’
As she walked, a small truck trundled past her with crates of Coca-Cola rattling on the back. Liv glanced after it, her throat suddenly dry. She soon found herself in a tangle of streets with stone walls so tall it was like being in a maze. The paths crossed, and she relied on her instinct to take her in the right direction.
After a while, she saw a person-sized slit in the wall revealing a vertical slice of sparkling teal sea. A small piece of wood read Bar Boca in crude letters.
Liv squeezed through the gap and saw hundreds of tiny steps carved into the rock face, curving down to a paved plateau set out with tables and chairs. Beyond that was a sheer drop where waves crashed against the rocks below.
On a table overlooking the sea, Sven sat talking to another man.
Liv held out her arms for balance and made her way down the steps. She sat at the bar on a stool made out of a beer barrel, ordered fresh orange juice and glanced over at Sven.
He was the epitome of the wordchilled, wearing a grey linen suit with battered sandals that displayed his tanned ankles. Liv could see the bluey patterns of his tattoos through his white cotton shirt. He sipped coffee from a tiny cup and silver rings on his fingers flashed in the sunshine.
She’d heard of his agency before. It was famous for representing dark Swedish thrillers featuring feisty tattooed heroines, and also for losing Essie as a client. She’d found out the beginning of Essie’s story from Ted, but how did it pan out from there? Could Sven tell her anything about the night Essie disappeared? Was he possibly her mystery love?
She waited until Sven’s colleague left.
Liv had met many people at the book festival and couldn’t remember all their faces and names. She assumed it would be the same for Sven, too.
She ordered a coffee and carried the cup over, setting it down on his table. ‘Sven, isn’t it? I’m Liv Green. I saw you at the festival, yesterday.’ She extended her hand, congratulating herself on her acting.
