‘You didn’t bother to pick upmycall . . .’ she reminded him as he headed into the kitchen.
Jim clamped the phone to his ear. ‘Yeah, we can talk,’ he said in a hushed tone.
Greta’s eyes followed him. The warm burr of his voice told her the call was a personal one, not business. She shifted on the sofa, her gaze drifting around the room until it settled on something purple tucked behind a cushion. She’d never seen Jim wear that colour before, and she fought against the urge to take a peek.
When he returned, Greta picked up her handbag. ‘Am I interrupting something? Want me to leave?’
‘No. No need. It was Lottie on the phone.’
The name took a moment to register.‘Oh.’
Jim nodded. ‘Yeah. She thinks she left her boyfriend’s sweater here. She was wearing it when she popped over.’ He glanced around, then batted a cushion aside. ‘Ah, there it is.’ He pulled out the purple garment.
Greta squinted an eye, trying to comprehend what he’d just said. ‘Lottie has aboyfriend?’
‘Oh.’ Jim rubbed the back of his neck, as if realising he’d slipped up. ‘I don’t think it’s serious. Maybe a friend who’s a boy, rather than an actual boyfriend. I haven’t met him.’
But Greta felt like someone had hit the stop button on a treadmill she’d been sprinting on, sending her flying into a wall. Lottie’s first-ever boyfriend, and she was hearing about it second hand?
Jim held out the sweater. ‘Maybe you could give it back to her?’
Greta took hold of the soft wool, gripping it tightly. ‘Sure.’ As Jim walked with her toward the door, something black and feathery on the carpet caught her eye. A spider? No, something else. ‘Is that aneyelash?’she said, stooping to pick it up. Lottie didn’t wear make-up.
‘Oh? It probably belongs to Martin’s cleaning lady. She wears these big, thick lashes.’
Greta turned it over between her fingers, her mind conjuring up all kinds of scenarios. Did it belong to the cleaning lady, or someone else entirely?’
She pursed her lips, willing her niggles away. ‘Before I go, it’s Lottie’s sixteenth next week,’ she said. ‘Should we plan her gift and celebration together, or am I taking the lead as usual?’ Jim clicked his tongue, thinking. ‘When she was here, she mentioned grabbing a bite at the Anvil Inn. Apparently, the chef used to be in a boy band, and it’s the place to be seen . . . the kind of place we used to get invited to.’
Greta raised an eyebrow, the thought of a family dinner stirring up warm feelings inside her. ‘That’s quite the grand gesture. I’ve heard it’s very exclusive, and the food costs a fortune. Would Lottie really want to go there withus?’
‘She can’t afford it otherwise.’ Jim laughed. ‘It’d be a nice gtft.’
‘Averynice gift.’
‘Something for us to all do together,’ Jim added, a hint of hope entering his eyes.
They exchanged a smile, as if briefly part of something together.
It didn’t last long, and he gave her a quick peck to her cheek. ‘Let’s chat soon and figure something out,’ he said. ‘Take care in the lift. It sometimes gets stuck between floors.’
Jim stepped back into the penthouse and closed the door.
Greta jabbed the button and rode the glass box back down to earth, unsure whether the sinking feeling in her stomach came from the motion, or from disappointment.
Once outside, she held the jumper to her face, breathing in her daughter’s scent. Memories of happier times rushed in— Lottie’s infectious giggle, her wide smile, the sparkle in her eyes when she’d played with a toy coffee set for the cameras. It felt like looking back at a different person. One she missed with all her heart.
She got into her car, where the crumpled flyer on the passenger seat caught her eye. ‘Looking for the Perfect Blend?’
‘Damn right I am,’ Greta said aloud. ‘How could you tell?’
The ‘Drink Me’ message also intrigued her. Wasn’t it fromAlice in Wonderland?Had drinking from a bottle made Alice grow bigger, or smaller? She couldn’t quite remember.
Peering closer, Greta noticed a tiny address printed at the bottom of the flyer. Still unsure what it was promoting, and keen to jettison Jim and Nora from her thoughts for a while, she decided to check it out on her way home.
Chapter 4
GRETA GLANCED ATthe flyer on her car seat, then at the slender building that came into view as she drove along the street. She knew this part of Longmill pretty well, but wasn’t there usually an alleyway between the launderette and newsagent? Surely the shop wedged there couldn’t have just popped up overnight? Yet there it was, with no signage above its multi-paned window to suggest what it actually sold. She double-checked the numbers on the surrounding buildings to confirm she was in the right spot.
