The city was silhouetted in the distance and Essie’s block of flats rose above it, giving her the middle finger.
There was a high concentration of young people streaming up and down the street, and Liv realized she must be close to the university. Her ankles threatened to give way as she counted down the numbers on the houses until she stood outside the one on the label, number twenty-five.
The white Georgian house was run-down with stained walls, a missing gate and windows with lots of panes, several cracked. It looked like a building from a Charles Dickens novel. Next to the front door were several doorbells, as if the building had been converted into flats at some point. Bob Marley blared from one of the top storeys.
What was this place?
As Liv hesitated on the pavement, a thought streamed in her head like the banner across the screen on a twenty-four-hour news channel.Essie had an affair with my dad. Essie had an affair with my dad.
The thought twisted her gut, and she bent her head to take deep gulps of air. She saw the feet of people passing her, scuffed Doc Martens and worn running shoes. Some hesitated, but everyone moved on.
Straightening up, Liv pressed a hand to her throat and walked along the path to the front door.It didn’t seem right to let herself inside, so she knocked and waited. When there was no reply, she pushed the key into the lock.
A long hallway stretched in front of her with several tiles missing from the mosaic floor. Two well-used bicycles were propped against the wall, and takeaway menus were pinned to the wall.
She stared around her, not sure what to do next. A young man wearing oversize camouflage trousers and a yellow beanie jogged down the stairs. ‘You looking for someone?’ he said cheerily.
Liv held up the key to show she hadn’t broken in. ‘Which door is number 25b?’
‘End of the hallway,’ the man said. ‘The mystery thickens.’
She frowned at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘That flat is privately owned, right? Like, not a student?’
‘I don’t know,’ Liv said. There didn’t seem much point in covering up the truth. ‘I’ve been left a key to the place, in a will.’
‘Yeah? That’s cool. My uncle just left me his mangy old Labrador.’ He laughed. ‘I once saw a woman scuttle inside. She had black hair, like a helmet. I knocked to see if she wanted a coffee, being neighbourly and that. She didn’t answer. Weird, huh?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘My mate Dave reckons she’s a dominatrix, you know with that hairstyle.’
‘Oh…’ Liv blushed.
‘I just hope you don’t find any bodies in there.’
‘Me, too.’ Liv smiled too widely. She waited until the man left the building before she approached the peeling green door.
The same key opened this lock and a strange damp smell hit her as she stepped inside,a hint of Fracas underneath. The carpet was a swirly red-and-gold pattern with bare patches along the short hallway. Cheap paintings hung on the walls, as if bought from charity shops.
Liv entered the room closest to her. The sunlight cut through the windows, illuminating specks of dust sparkling in the air. There was a small run of yellowing kitchen units, and a tiny dining table that would struggle to seat two people. A single bed was covered with a knitted patchwork cover. There was a squishy teal velvet chair with a hole in the cushion and an old oak desk with a missing drawer and a flat melted candle in a saucer on top.
Somehow, despite the flat’s scruffiness, Liv could sense Essie’s presence.
She jumped when a door banged somewhere upstairs, followed by laughter. Dropping her handbag to the floor, Liv looked around her and saw there was a layer of dust over everything.
Photos pinned to the wall caught her attention. When she peered closer she saw Essie, younger and reclining on a picnic blanket, with a pen and pad by her elbow. She was laughing and had black winged eyeliner and orange lips. A photograph further along showed her blowing out nineteen candles on a birthday cake. In another, she stood with a group of friends throwing their mortarboard hats into the air. There was a prize day booklet with the university coat of arms – featuring a bee, perhaps to represent how hard the students worked. A mug on the side of the sink was printed with a bee, too.
It’s the emblem of a prestigious university, Liv realized. It could be the reason Anthony used a bee-printed handkerchief, and for the cufflinks Essie commissioned for Grant.
Liv stared at all the photos. It was difficult to imagine Essie was ever that young. Had she lain on her bed in this room, scribbling in a notepad and listening to music with Anthony?
Her eyes settled on another shot. It didn’t seem to be of anything at first, a door opening onto a classroom. There was a desk, blackboard and a figure in the distance. Liv squinted closer and let out a short gasp when she saw it was her dad. Tears rushed down her face.
Another shot beside it was much clearer. Her dad lay on the grass using his hand as a visor against the sun. His lips curled into a smile. He looked so much younger than he did in her memories.
The grief of losing him could always knock her off her feet, like a freak wave on a sunny beach, and it came at her now and left her reeling.
