‘I builtatreehouse. What makes you think it’s yours?’
‘Because this is my treehouse,’ I said, my hand sweeping around the room. ‘This building, the way you’ve constructed it, even the way you’ve decorated it ... it’sexactlythe way I described.’
Josh was looking at me as though I was crazy. ‘I truly have no idea what you’re talking about. I built this place as a prototypebecause I was thinking of branching out into making bespoke treehouses. There’s a big market for them.’
It was a measure of how tense the situation had suddenly grown that neither of us went for the easy quip about ‘branching out’ into treehouses.
‘But everything you’ve done is exactly the way I described it years ago.’ I pointed to each item as though they were exhibits. ‘You have the furry throw over the couch – a grey one,’ I said with extra emphasis. ‘And there are sheepskin rugs on the floor and red gingham curtains. You’ve even put in the skylight I said I wanted.’
Josh sighed deeply, and I wondered if the real reason for his reluctance to let me climb the stairs was because he hadn’t wanted me to see this recreation of my childhood fantasy.
‘I hate to break it to you, Lily, but you don’t own the copyright on throws, rugs or curtains.’
‘But ... but you’ve done it exactly how I dreamt it would be. Why would you do that?’
‘I don’t know, maybe it’s just a coincidence,’ he said, so emphatically that for the first time I began to doubt myself. ‘Or maybe you kept banging on about how a treehouse should look that you subconsciously brainwashed me into the choices I made when I decked the place out.’
There was something in his words that sort of rang true. I’d seen TV shows where illusionists demonstrated the power of persuasion through subliminal messaging. Was that what had happened here? Possibly. Because anything else would open up an entirely different can of worms.
Why would a man who claimed to have no feelings for you, build your dream treehouse in the middle of a forest you were never meant to visit?
Chapter Twenty Eight
‘Thank God you’re alright. I was convinced Uncle Billy’s dance moves had persuaded you to run off to Gretna Green with him.’
I laughed, realising how much I’d missed Raegan’s irreverent sense of humour.
‘No such luck,’ I replied. ‘Like I said, I got stranded here by a freak storm and there’s been no phone signal at all until this morning.’
‘Where the fuck are you, then? It sounds like it must be in the middle of nowhere?’
‘It pretty much is.’
I looked out through one of the many treehouse windows. Josh had stepped on to the balcony, presumably to give me some privacy to make my calls. But I still wasn’t comfortable talking about him when he was standing less than ten feet away.
‘And who did you say this old friend is? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about him. Was he at Adam’s funeral?’
I swallowed uncomfortably. ‘No. He wasn’t. We kind of lost touch a while back.’
‘And yet you decided to drop in on him out of the blue?’
‘Something like that.’
I could practically hear the suspicion travelling through the airwaves from Raegan’s house to the forest.
‘I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,’ I promised, already questioning whether I wanted to. What was there to tell anyway, except a whole load of half-baked theories and even more unanswered questions?
‘Just tell me you’re not been held hostage by some creepy cult guy.’
I laughed so loudly that Josh broke away from examining the treetop vista and looked over his shoulder at me. He smiled, and something inside me shifted.
‘Have you spent your time in isolation watching crime thrillers on Netflix?’
‘Maybe,’ Raegan replied, sounding a little defensive, ‘but I still want to make sure you’re safe.’
Of all the things I was worried about after being stranded here with Josh, my safety was not one of them.
‘I’m perfectly okay, and the road will be cleared soon, so I’ll be on my way back home.’
