As more time passed by, the end of August arrived and the weather heated up even more. Liv arrived at work with a clammy back and armpits.
By now, her one-a-week paperback habit had dwindled to one a month. She felt nostalgic for the gossipy chatter of her Platinum cleaning friends, and even wiping away Tarkers’s and Jules’s handprints. Life seemed much easier back then. Writing had been a dream rather than a job.
Johnny’s start date at university was also creeping closer. He’d soon fly the nest,leaving her and Jake alone in the house. She worried about it almost as much as the deadline to complete Essie’s book.
One day, Liv hit a complete mind block and turned to Essie’s bookshelf for inspiration. When she spied the edge of a yellow note in a book, she grabbed and opened it. Was it a divine message from the author to spur her on? She opened it and saw Essie had underlined some text on a page.
He was the sentence to her paragraph, the full stop to her words. Without him there could be no story.
Liv loved how the words sounded. This was the passion and loveliness she was searching for. But who did they relate to?
‘When are we having lunch, Mum?’ Johnny called through from Essie’s sitting room, interrupting her thoughts. ‘I’m starving.’
Liv hoped taking a break and eating would give her a shot of energy. She found her son lying on the sofa reading a book. He’d never been a big reader, grumbling when he had to study Shakespeare and Dickens for his English literature exams. ‘What are you reading?’ she said.
He semi-closed it so she could see the cover. ‘The Moon on the Water. Are you proud of me?’
Liv laughed. ‘It’s more constructive than trying to make paper planes.’
‘I can’t stop turning the pages.’
‘What do you think of the hero?’
Johnny pulled his face. ‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘He’s a bit obvious. Handsome, brave and strong. Like a cardboard cutout.’
‘Isn’t that what readers want?’
‘I’d pick someone cool, not the usual kind of guy. Shake things up a bit.’
Liv decided to give it some thought.
The sun was beating down outside, so she took off her blazer and striped tie before heading out of the flat to buy lunch.
Her eyes shone when she saw a new bookshop had opened in the city. The Bookshop on the Square had three rooms full of packed shelves, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Worn velvet armchairs invited readers to sit and read, and there was a coffee shop at the back. She’d have stayed longer if she didn’t have a hungry teenager and an unfinished book to write waiting for her.
Five of Essie’s books sat in the fiction section and Liv thought they should be displayed more prominently. She slid them off the shelves and looked around her. When she was sure the shop assistants were busy, she gave three of the books new positions on tables, and placed two in the window display. She swallowed a giggle as she left the shop.
In a delicatessen, she bought ham-and-mustard sandwiches, apples, and flapjacks, and clasped the paper bags to her chest. Georgia’s hero was still on her mind when she returned to the flat. In the hallway, she shouted out to Johnny, ‘Hi, I’m back.’
Immediately, her eyes fell upon a curved lilac thing lying on the carpet. She was sure it hadn’t been there when she went out.
Holding her lunch under her chin, Liv reached down and picked it up. It was a false nail with a thick white tip. Her body cooled as if her blood had been drained and replaced with mercury. She ordered herself to stay calm.
She entered the sitting room as if in a trance and passed Johnny his lunch. ‘Did anyone call here while I was out?’ she said.
He took out his sandwich, wrinkling his nose at the seeded bread. ‘Just the estate agent lady,’ he said.
Liv’s throat tightened. An uneasy sensation flooded over her. ‘Whatestate agent lady?’
Johnny chewed and shrugged a shoulder. ‘She had this long blonde hair and wore jeans and high heels.’ He eyed his mum. ‘Don’t worry, she took them off in the hallway.’
‘Whatexactlydid she say to you?’
‘Just that Essie’s selling the flat and she needed to take photos for the website.’
Liv sank down heavily on the sofa. She knew Anthony wouldn’t have sent anyone here without telling her first. She was sure the lilac nail belonged to Chloe. An apple rolled out of her bag onto the carpet and she didn’t pick it up. Johnny reached down and tossed it to her. It landed in her lap.
Liv imagined Chloe standing behind Buddha in the foyer, watching as she and Johnny arrived, and then Liv leaving on her own at lunchtime. She pictured the journalist smiling smugly to herself and drumming her fingernails in the lift on her way up to the thirty-second floor. She had sweet-talked a teenager with a broken arm into letting her into Essie’s flat.
