‘So I went to this spa before Christmas,’ she says. ‘It was a bit of a disaster.’ She can still feel it, water flooding her lungs, the panic at being sucked under. When, of course, in reality she was perfectly safe. All these years she’s thought the drowning nightmares were because of Chloe, but what if it was a memory of a past life straining to get through? A memory of the first time she died.
She sighs. ‘What do you think, Chloe? Am I mad?’ She tries to imagine what her sister would say, but can’t quite conjure it up. Because she’s only ever known a six-yearold Chloe, and they would never have had this kind of conversation.
She sits in silence, aware of people coming and going around her, the distant sound of a sob. But also the sound of a child laughing. It’s unfair, so terribly unfair, that Chloe lost her life so young. Lost. Like she misplaced it, rather than it being ripped from her because the people who loved her, the people who were supposed to take care of her, didn’t do their job.
She blinks away tears, her vision blurring. And as she does, she sees the grave in front of her morph into another – a simple wooden cross under a cold grey sky. The scene shimmers, so that she’s unable to fully grasp it. She can feel grass under her knees and a hand resting lightly on her back, comforting her. A man’s hand, one she knows, one she hopes will always be there.
It disappears before she can delve any deeper, and she takes a shaky breath as she gets to her feet, traces her sister’s name one last time. ‘I’m sorry, Chloe,’ she says as she leaves, even as she knows that no matter how many times she says it, it will never be enough.
When she gets back to her car, she sees she has a missed call. A sense of panic spikes her system when she sees who it was. Because Elsie never rings her.
She calls her back immediately. ‘Elsie?’ she says.
‘Finally! I’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages.’
Lissa switches the car engine on so she can get some heat, wondering what exactly ‘ages’ constitutes for Elsie, given the missed call was only five minutes ago, tops.
‘Where are you?’ her half-sister asks.
‘I’m … I’m over at the church. St Michael’s.’
‘The church?’ Lissa can hear the frown in her voice. ‘What, are you religious or something?’
Lissa laughs, the sound a little tired, and sad. Because Elsie has to ask the question, because she doesn’t know enough about her to be sure. ‘No, I’m not religious. I’m just visiting someone.’
‘Visiting s— Oh.’
The line goes quiet.
‘Are you okay, Elsie?’ Lissa prompts. ‘Do you need something?’
‘We-ell,’ Elsie drags the word out, ‘I’m sort of … stuck.’
‘Stuck?’
‘Yeah. See, I came into Bath again with Jess, but she got picked up early and there was no room in the car, and I was going to get the train but it’s like another hour or something until the next one, and Dad has already texted asking where I am.’
It is a lot of information given very quickly, and way more than she’s used to getting from Elsie. ‘Right. And reading between the lines, Dad doesn’t actually know where you are?’
‘Well, no, not exactly. I sort of said we were in town, but I let him think it was Frome.’
‘Aha.’ Lissa taps her free hand against the steering wheel. She’s not sure what to do here – what is the big sister role in all this? Should she immediately call her dad – or Nicole – to tell them about it?
‘So, like, do you have a car or something?’ Elsie prompts.
‘A car?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You want me to drive you home?’ Lissa finally cottons on.
‘Yes.’
She hesitates again. She should almost definitely tell her dad. But Elsie is barely fourteen, alone in Bath, and it’s getting dark. She can deal with the family politics later. ‘Where are you?’ she asks.
‘Near Anthropologie.’
‘Okay – if you walk to the end of the high street, I’ll meet you there. Give me about twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be as quick as I can.’
