‘I’ll do some research. It’s usually not a great idea to google how to kill someone,’ she comments casually. ‘But I think we’ll be OK. If Columbo comes a-calling for me, I’ll just say I’m writing a book.’
Paula dislikes the reminder of Columbo – yet another thing hanging over their heads – but tries to put it away and focus on the towel underneath her. If the bubble is going to burst – if the police are coming for Audrey, if her daughter is going to cut her off for good – then she might as well enjoy a little sunbathing while she can.
Beside her, Teddy taps away on the keyboard at speed. ‘Does anyone want to check their emails while I’m online?’ she offers after a minute.
Paula takes the proffered computer, a tiny bit of hope lighting up in her chest. OK, so she hasn’t had a text or WhatsApp from Tilly since their fight, but maybe she has an email. It’s possible, isn’t it? She can’t remember her daughter ever sending her an email, but there’s a chance. Maybe she wanted to send something too long for a text. Is there still a character limit on messages?
She logs into her email account wondering what she would do if Tilly has sent her an email. Is she ready to forgive her? Of course she is. They just need to talk things through and find some peace.
She has only one email and Paula opens it quickly, before she has time to register who it’s from. And when she does, she feels everything around her go dark.
* * *
From: [email protected]
Subject:
Hey honey, I’m home.
31
Paula drops the laptop.
It slides off the sun lounger and skids off towards the edge of the boat. Part of Paula wants it to tip over and into the sea, never to be seen or heard from again.
But the email would still be there.
‘Whoops,’ Audrey says loudly as Ivy hops up, retrieving the computer and examining it for scratches.
‘Sorry, Teddy,’ Paula says almost under her breath. Her voice is shaking and far away. It doesn’t even feel like her speaking.
‘Oh God, don’t worry about it, babe,’ Teddy replies, waving her hand. ‘The amount of times I’ve nearly drowned a device . . .’ She pauses. ‘But mostly it’s been in a toilet, not the Mediterranean ocean.’
Paula doesn’t reply and Teddy sits up straighter, immediately sensing something has happened. ‘What is it, Paula?’ she asks, standing now and moving to sit at Paula’s side. ‘Was it a message from Tilly or Seb? Or the loan sharks?’
Paula shakes her head numbly. A coldness is creeping through her, spreading upwards from her toes and into her chest, despite the hot sunshine overhead.
The group watches her carefully, waiting. She looks up at them at last.
‘It was . . . It was an email,’ she begins as they stare. ‘From . . . John.’
The group glance at each other and Paula wonders if they think she’s mad. Maybe sheismad? Maybe her dead husband’s ghost heard her finally reveal his secrets and has leapt at the chance of haunting her.
Quietly, Teddy takes the laptop from Ivy and opens it. She blinks hard at the screen, her face quickly contorting with rage.
‘This is sick,’ she mutters. ‘Disgusting.’ She looks over at Paula, shaking her head. ‘It’s someone’s idea of a horrible joke. It must be.’
Paula blinks at her, something unfurling. Could it be a joke? Could it really be someone playing a nasty prank on her? Who would do that? The person behind the texts? Behind those tweets? The person who changed her lottery numbers?
Because it can’t be real. Surely it can’t be . . . John. John’s dead. They had the paperwork. They got his ashes. They had a funeral. He’s dead.
But who else would have access to his email account?
Audrey and Ivy crowd Teddy, reading over her shoulder. Ivy recoils in horror.
‘It can’t be real?’ she says softly. ‘There’s no way, is there, Paula?’
