by E. A. Clark
‘Leo – this isn’t the picture I bought!’ I cried. ‘There’s been some awful mistake.’
Leo looked up at me in disbelief. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I ordered the print from an art shop and it was packaged in brown paper when I collected it. I didn’t open it – just covered the parcel in the wrapping paper. I think someone must’ve played a horrible, sick practical joke on me …’
From Leo’s expression I could see that he didn’t believe me. But how could he think that I would have selected such a dour, almost baleful image?
He stood up, not looking at me. His expression was grim, his blue eyes saddened. He walked towards the door and turned back briefly.
‘Wait here. I won’t be long.’ His voice sounded strained.
Left alone in the room with Emily, I began to cry. Of all the prints I had seen, what the hell had drawn me to that particular picture – of that particular place? I had felt compelled to choose it above all the others I had seen. I had to have it. But why? And what had happened that it had become so drastically, horribly altered? I hugged my baby to me, thinking it might be for the best if we left. I felt as though I had ruined the party.
My attention was caught suddenly by some movement at the far end of the room. I had thought we were alone. Trying to compose myself, I looked up to see who was watching me.
A familiar, enveloping coldness had filled the room. It was as if everything were happening in slow motion. A little girl in an old-fashioned dress, with light brown hair tied back with ribbon, rose noiselessly from an armchair by the window. She wore a solemn expression and came towards me, apparently staring at the wall behind where I was standing.
A shiver ran through my very core. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. I was unable to move. I clutched Emily to me and stood staring at the girl as she moved across the floor. She was so close now that I could see every detail of her dress, her shoes, the colour of her eyes. I knew at once who she was. I would know those eyes anywhere.
But before I could regain the power of speech, she walked straight through me and disappeared into the wall. And as she faded away, one word spoken in the soft tone of a child, was carried on the air:
‘Aiutami.’
Glossary
Welsh phrases
Am byth for ever
Arglwydd fawr good Lord
Bechod What a shame
Bore da Good morning
Boy bach little boy
Brenin mawr good Lord
Cariad sweetheart / darling
Chwefror February
Crempog pancakes
Croeso Welcome
Diolch Thank you
Duw God
Hunanladdiad suicide
Mae hi’n gwybod she knows
Medi September
Nos da Goodnight
Paid! Don’t!
Panad cuppa
Tatws potatoes
Taw! Be quiet!
Twpsyn idiot
Italian phrases
Aiutami Help me
Ciao! Bye!
Che bella bambina What a beautiful baby (girl)
Buonasera Good evening
Buon compleanno! Happy birthday!
Due Bellini per … Two Bellinis for …
Mi dispiace I’m sorry
Per favore please
Copyright
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017
Copyright © E. A. Clark 2017
E. A. Clark asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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E-book Edition © September 2017 ISBN: 978-0-00-825828-3