Evie finished her nails, barely looking at the screen as the newsreader rattled through the other stories: forthcoming budget, more over turned lorries on the A1 and a bit on llama farming. Meanwhile, Lillianna hung on every word. “There.” She jabbed her finger at the glass when the homelessness report began.
“What?”
“There.”
Evie followed her finger as it tracked one of the figures around the screen. “Yeah, it’s a person. What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“It’s Sammie, you dope. Sammie Dean. Molly’s sister. Kit’s ex. You know, the vanished lady.”
“Really?” Evie squinted sceptically as the figure shown huddled in a sleeping bag in the doorway of some shop.
“Not her, you dunce,” Lillianna squealed, adding a palm print to the numerous fingerprints she’d already placed upon the glass. “Not the sleeping bag woman, the charity worker. It’s her.”
Having only seen a few old photographs of Sammie, Evie couldn’t honestly claim to recognize her. This woman, who admittedly appeared to be called Samantha, had very short hair and a much harder face than she recalled from the pictures. In all honesty she would never have recognized her as Kit’s missing girlfriend. “Are you sure?”
“I’m damn sure, I’m sure.” Lillianna planted her hands on her hips, in her favourite straight-talking, no nonsense pose. “Molly’s been dancing around doing circus tricks. She’s just driven off to go and meet her.”
“Really?”
“She got the charity deets from the TV people.”
Still a little disbelieving, Evie nonetheless let a small smile split her lips. If Sammie had turned up, then they could wipe away the doubts hanging like the sword of Damocles over Kit’s head. “What did you come to tell me for, you idiot?” she bellowed. “Why aren’t you over telling Kit?”
“Isn’t he here?” Bangles rattled as they slid along her raised arms.
“No. He’s working on the house. Come on.” Evie strapped on her sandals and headed for the door. She was definitely going to have a night to remember after this revelation.
Kit sat knee-deep in plaster dust with a chisel in his hand. “Lillianna… Evie.” A distinct roll of relief infused his voice on seeing Evie come in behind the other woman. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He’d finally relented and bought a set of overalls, but somehow he made even the dust-covered baggy jumpsuit look sexy. Lips pursed into a bemused line, he paused to rub grot out of his eyes as he waited for a response.
Evie poked Lillianna in the back.
“Sammie’s turned up,” she squealed and dived on Kit, crushing her face to his dusty chest.
Kit froze into position. “What?”
“Alive,” Evie added, realizing he might think they meant her body, although, maybe that wouldn’t have tallied with Lillianna exuberant puppy dog zeal. “She’s in York working for some charity or other.” Still a little sketchy on the details, despite the news report, she looked to Lillianna for further confirmation.
Her friend beamed. “Molly’s gone to meet her. Tada…tada…tada.” She did a little jig.
Kit dropped his tools, but doubt continued to cloud his face. “Seriously. She’s okay? It’s not a mistake?”
“It’s her. It’s real. It’s real. It’s real.” Lillianna flung herself at him, entwining him in her skirts, which shed a few sequins onto the floor that winked among the rubble. Kit accepted the second embrace and the rather sloppily given kiss she smeared across his lips, but his eyes, those deep pools of longing, remained suspicious.
“Evie?”
“It’s true, Kit. Leastways she’s shown me the TV clip, and Molly’s convinced. I mean, she’d recognize her own sister.”
Even she recognized the doubt in her own words, doubt that was instantly reflected in Kit’s gaze. Instead of whooping at the good news, his brows drew into a troubled frown. He walked across to the window, shaking his head. “Does Ross know?”
“I’ve not told him. I don’t think so.”
Oblivious to solemnity, Lillianna continued to thud her heels against the floorboards. “We should all go out and celebrate. Champagne. Slap up meal. The works.”
“Lilli.” Torn between supporting Kit and calming her friend, Evie tried to stretch herself between them both.
“I’m not celebrating anything.” Kit folded his arms across his chest. “One blurry TV broadcast means nothing. How can you be sure after six years, not far off seven? I don’t suppose anyone has actually spoken to her yet. Find out where she went and what the hell she’s doing on TV? No.” He walked back to the rubble and picked up his tools again. “It could be anyone.”
The clang of the hammer driving the chisel into the old plaster momentarily stopped Lillianna’s jiggling, but his refutation failed to quell her exuberance. “It’s her. It’s her. It’s her-er-er! What’s it gonna cost you to have a little faith,” she sang.
Evie remained by the window watching their awkward dance. It reminded her of a flamenco performance, full of passionate flurries, attacks and retreats, Kit so reluctant and Lillianna at once enticing and berating him for his disbelief. For her own part, she wished Kit’s scepticism didn’t make her hackles rise over what had happened all over again. She had doubts of her own about this sudden reappearance; it was hardly surprising he felt the same way. Anxiously, she bit her thumbnail, causing the acrylic overlay to fall off.
“Lilli,” she coaxed, seeing exasperation creep into Kit’s expression alongside the fear. “Why don’t you go over to the pub and let the folks there know? I’m sure they’ll all be thrilled to hear, and we could join you in a bit.”
“Well…” Lillianna gave her dubious frown.
“Lil.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. You’re right. We do need to spread the word. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
Back outside, Evie escorted Lillianna all the way to the gate that adjoined the lane. “Don’t worry about telling Ross, I’ll let him know. But I’ll let you have the joy of telling Tony.”
When she returned to Kit, she found him standing in exactly the same position as when she’d left. Only now there were tears poised ready to spill down his cheeks and his black hair lay spiked up off his head, where he’d clearly raked his hands through it and the dust had held it in place. They stared at one another, not sure what to say.
“I didn’t know her, Kit. I can’t be sure. All I’ve seen are a few old photographs.”
“It doesn’t feel right.” He surreptitiously wiped the tears from his eyes. “Why would she suddenly just appear like this? If she ran off to get away from everything, surely she’d avoid advertising herself. She had to realize there’d be a chance of someone recognizing her and making a fuss.”
“Maybe things have changed enough so that whatever drove her away then doesn’t matter anymore,” Evie suggested. “Molly’s the only one of her family still around.” She shook her head trying to figure it out. “Maybe it was something with her parents. Haven’t they gone abroad? So, there’d be no chance of them seeing it.” If only there were an obvious culprit to point a finger at to explain why she no longer felt the need to stay hidden. The problem was no one had ever identified a reason for her disappearance, which is why so much of the blame had fallen on Kit’s shoulders. Outsider. Last to see her, and a known sexual deviant, at least amongst Kirkley’s quiet community. He’d been an altogether easy target.
“It still doesn’t make sense.” Kit scrunched more spikes in his hair. “I daren’t believe it, Evie. I can’t face the prospect of getting excited only for Lillianna and Molly to be wrong.”
Ross arrived forty minutes later, following a text from Evie and having off loaded his afternoon patients onto his partners at the practice. He wrapped his big arms around her and lifted her off her feet. “Thank god.” His relief was short lived. One look at Kit confirmed all still wasn’t right. Their embrace was much briefer, more of a solemn patting of backs.
“He’s been like this since he heard
,” Evie explained once they were out of earshot of Kit. Ross had insisted on boiling the kettle. Apparently, it was recommended medicine for any trauma. “He’s afraid it’s all going to amount to nothing and that there’s going to be another backlash against him. You don’t think Molly’s making this all up just to cause trouble, do you?”
Ross shook his head. “No. You’ve spoken to her. You’ve seen how choked up she still gets over it. I don’t think she’d resort to that sort of deception.”
“But Kit hasn’t been around before. I know some people are still being funny with him, but there’s plenty who are accepting him too.”
“Nah, Evie.” He accepted the offered over glove to lift the whistling kettle from the hob, and began pouring their drinks. “If it turns out it’s not her, I reckon it’s just a genuine mistake. Either way, I think we should head home after these and wait for news there. I don’t fancy being here if it’s bad news.”
She was about to ask why, when she recalled that the police had originally come here looking for Kit when Sammie had first disappeared.
“I’ve already tried to get him to come home, but he just keeps saying that he has work to do and that he’s not wasting the evening sitting around twiddling his thumbs, not even if the twiddling involves sex or video games.”
Ross’s jaw dropped. “You’re telling me he said no to sex. Jeezus! He really is worked up.”
“Well, I didn’t actually… Oh, never mind. How is it you’re a whole lot less doubtful?”
Ross loaded the mugs onto an empty paint tray and nodded her ahead to open the doors. “If it was just Lillianna spouting off, I’d dismiss it, but I don’t think Molly would go tearing off without getting an address or something else concrete first. She saw her parents zipping off too many times, whenever there was a suspected sighting, and coming back disappointed. It never did them any good.”
“They moved away now, haven’t they?” Although, maybe Molly had rung them and they too were racing towards York to claim their missing daughter.
“They went to Spain about eighteen months back. Molly refused to go, accused them all of abandoning her sister. Truthfully, I think they did the only thing they could to maintain their sanity. Kirkley held too many bitter memories, and there wasn’t any prospect of a proper resolution.”
Kit drank the tea, but he refused to come home with them. “I’ve told Evie. I’m not sitting around. I’d rather work. It’s better than drinking myself into a stupor.”
Maybe there were other things troubling him too, like finally finding out why Sammie had run off all those years ago.
“Tell you what. Let’s Evie and I go and get fish and chips for us all,” Ross suggested, something that at least gained a nod of approval. “We can bring them back here and maybe by then we’ll have heard something.”
The fish and chips, wrapped in numerous layers of paper, were burning Evie’s lap when they were stopped from entering the lane to Rose Cottage by a row of cones and a police vehicle parked width ways across the road. They both got out, leaving the meal to cool on the seat. “What’s going on?” Ross called to the officer sitting in the car, who signalled one minute. He appeared to be on the radio.
“Oh, thank god!” Lillianna came tearing out of the concealed entryway on the right that led to one of the farms. She threw herself at Evie and Ross, squeezing them both tight. “I thought you might still be in there. But you’re safe.” She backed away a little, bent over and took several laborious breaths, before resorting to an inhaler.
“What’s going on?” Evie asked.
“Rose…alight…fire.” Lillianna gasped. “Trying…to put…it out.” She took another puff of her inhaler and sat down in the lane. “Can’t remember the last time I used this?” she said once her breathing had calmed. “It’s the cottage.”
She didn’t need to elaborate, the smell of smoke drifted towards them on the night breeze, along with large fluttering bits of ash. Something large was burning.
Ross obviously made the connection at the same time. His arm dropped like a lead weight from around Evie’s shoulders. “Kit’s still in there.” He sprang away and pushed off the top of the car bonnet to get past.
“Hey!” the officer yelled and finally emerged from the car to give chase, breathlessly shouting into his radio as he ran.
Numbed, Evie watched them disappear in the fog bank up ahead. “We went for chips. Kit stayed behind. How? We’ve not been gone that long?” She began walking, circling around the abandoned police car to get into the lane.
“Evie, wait!” Lillianna caught up with her. “We should keep back. It’s not good up there.”
The fog cloud grew denser as they neared the cottage. Ash swirled like confetti in the air and stuck to every surface. The smoke itself had a bitter taste and dried their throats. Regardless, Evie pressed on, her coat held tight across her mouth and nose. She reached the rear of the first fire engine, and almost ran into Ross. He was sandwiched between two burly police officers, resisting their pleas for calm, his curses, regularly punctuated by calls for Kit.
There was no answering cry, only the horrid crackles and fizzing pops of flames burning through dried timbers, and then the roar of water as the fire engine crews directed their hoses. Upstairs, one of the cottage windows blew out and shattered, making both women yelp. They scuttled back towards the hedgerow on the far side of the lane. “What happened, Lilli? Tell me.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. Everyone was at the pub celebrating, waiting for you, but then a rumour started circulating that Molly was back and it hadn’t been Sammie after all but some other woman. It all got a bit crazy then, some folks had had a bit too much and they were getting mouthy. I left the pub at that point and went over to Molly’s, but there was no sign of her. Her car isn’t even back. I tried sending her a message, but I’ve not had a reply. And I tried you. Again, no response, so I thought I’d walk back up here and find you. Only I got halfway across the green and someone told me the place was on fire. I tried to ring you again, and I sent a message, but you know what the reception’s like around here.”
True to her words, another few paces into the field and Evie’s mobile phone started chirping with a message alert. She gazed at the text neither seeing nor comprehending it. Instead, tears streamed down her cheeks, forming rivulets in the tight mask of smoke particles that already coated her face. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t real. Fate couldn’t tear him away from them like this. They’d only just got comfortable with one another. Ross had even suggested they consider booking a holiday together.
“He’s still in there,” she groaned, sagging to her knees among the damp grass. “He wouldn’t come with us…refused to believe… And Mimmy’s in there with him.” The notion of the kitten being trapped in her basket tore another hole in her already breaking heart. Both her strays. They’d both arrived the same night; now they were going to depart together.
No! She couldn’t let herself think like that. They’d survive, both of them. Somehow, they’d be all right.
“They have to get them out.” She clawed at Lillianna’s skirt, and buried her face in its magenta and black folds, sequins digging into her cheek. “Have to. Have to get them out.”
Chapter Seventeen
After Ross and Evie left, Kit down tooled and watched their car tail lights fade away. Evie had been clucking around him like a mother hen, when all he’d really wanted was a moment alone to collect his thoughts. Sammie found…alive and well. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t believe it. She’d been missing too long, and the details of her absence were too deeply engraved upon his soul for him to accept anything but absolute proof that anything had changed.
Kit wandered through the empty rooms to his favourite perch on the windowsill of the back bedroom, only to find condensation clouding the small mullioned panes, which had run down and formed a large puddle on the sill. Frustrated, he flung a rag on it, and collapsed onto the bed instead, causing a plume of feathers to puf
f skywards. Mimmy immediately pounced, disturbed from her favourite hidey-hole beneath the bed by the growl of the springs. Distractedly, he watched the kitten caper, swiping at the speckled feathers with her paws.
Maybe he’d come back as a cat in his next life. It seemed a pretty easy life, and no one made a fuss about you going on the prowl. Not that he currently felt remotely sexual. What he really wanted was someone to hold him tight and not let go regardless of how much he abused them. He needed that sort of absolute faith, that sort of unwavering love to prove that everything was still okay, and that the world wasn’t about to turn topsy-turvy again.
Kit dug in his pocket for his phone. He scrolled through the call list searching for Ross and Evie’s home number. Maybe if they held him, one either side, he’d feel safe. Stuff fish and chips, he wanted them back. His thumb hovered over the dial button. He didn’t want to sound needy.
The sound of shattering glass startled him into a seated position. Kit ran onto the landing just in time to see a second missile sail through the already shattered window that provided illumination on the turn of the stairs. The smell caught in his nostrils just before the new glowing missile shattered on impact. What was that? Petrol? He stopped himself short of the lower landing, his arms braced upon the banisters as the fuel caught and the flames fanned out in a huge arch below him. Kit made a hasty retreat. Already, fiery tendrils were racing across the landing and down the aged wooden stairs.
“Shit!” One of the loose electrical wires sparked. And then the lights went out.
Something had provoked this. What had he done?
The woman hadn’t been Sammie, he concluded. So, they were coming for him with flames and pitchforks. He needed to get out of here and run.
Kit ran back towards the bedroom, improvising an escape route out of the window. If he threw the mattress out first, the landing would at least be soft. Mimmy shot between his feet as he opened the bedroom door. “No!” he called after her. “Stupid cat.”
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