TWENTY-SIX

The alarm went off, waking me from a dream I was having about Prince Harry. We were holding up a bank, demanding money, with sawn-off shotguns. His balaclava fell off and he quickly put on a mask instead, but it was his picture on the mask. What was that all about?

“Wakey, wakey,” said a sleepy voice beside me.

I groaned. It couldn’t be time to get up—I was sure I’d only just gone to sleep.

“I don’t want you to go,” Thomas said in my ear as he spooned me from behind.

His words jolted me, reminding me that in a few hours’ time I’d be on a coach, trying to convince thirty children not to eat too many sweets, and holding a sick bag for those who didn’t listen.

“Can’t you tell them you’re really ill?”

“No!” I exclaimed as I pushed myself up. This was hard enough without him putting pressure on me. “That’s not who I am.”

He reached over to stroke my bare back, sending tingles down my spine. “But it’s a big day today. Once the deal’s gone through, we need to go out and celebrate.”

I’d momentarily forgotten about what else was happening today. Maybe that’s what my dream was about. Was it a warning?

“We can do that on Friday night,” I said, leaning in to kiss him. “We’ll have lots to celebrate then because we’ll officially be living together as well.”

“Mmm, don’t forget to leave me a key. I’ll take the next few days to move my gear across.”

After dropping Tyson at my mum’s, we’d spent yesterday clearing out the spare bedroom to create some space for Thomas’s stuff, though he assured me he didn’t have much. Still, I wanted him to feel as if this was his home as much as mine, so gently encouraged him to bring whatever he wanted.

“Will you let me know as soon as Mum’s money hits your account?” I said, as he kissed me at the door. I don’t know what I felt stranger about; leaving him at my place, or having him in possession of my family’s life savings. Good job I trusted him.

“I’ll keep you posted every step of the way,” he said. “In an ideal world, both ends of the deal will happen today, but if your mum’s money doesn’t clear then we might be looking at tomorrow.”

“And then we’ll really have something to celebrate,” I said, smiling. “I love you.”

He kissed me deeply. “Love you too. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Hey, Mum,” I said into the phone, once I’d gone around the corner and lost sight of Thomas.

“Hello, darling, you okay?”

“Yes, I’m just on my way into school.”

“Looking forward to the trip?”

“Yes and no,” I said, honestly. “If it was a normal week, I would, but Thomas is moving a few of his things into the flat and—”

“Is he now?” she teased. “So, this is getting serious.”

“I should hope so,” I laughed. “You’re just about to give him a hundred and fifty thousand pounds!”

“Are we definitely going ahead with that?” she asked, a little quieter. “I was going to ring you just before I went to the bank to, you know … well, just to double check that you’re still happy.”

Despite being more than certain that we were doing the right thing, I still felt almost sick with nerves.

“Absolutely,” I said, ignoring it. “This is going to allow us to do everything we need to do to the house.”

“Well, I went out and bought some magazines yesterday,” she said, sounding like an excited little girl. “And honestly, Beth, there are some truly beautiful houses out there.”

I laughed. “Yours is truly beautiful—it just needs a little bit of TLC.”

“Well, I think I’ve found the kitchen I want. It’s a country Shaker style with basket handles and a white granite worktop. I was thinking I might get a microwave as well—all the houses in the magazines seem to have one. I probably won’t use it, but it all fits into the kitchen design now, doesn’t it? You should see what can be done these days, Beth, and don’t get me started on the bathrooms … they have walk-in rain showers now, none of this moldy old curtain around a bath business. My hips will thank me for that, I can tell you!”

She may have been making a joke of it, but I hadn’t really appreciated, until now, how she’d been living. Having the work done would make a big difference.

“Let me know once you’ve transferred the money,” I said. “Maybe we can go out at the weekend to have a look around and get some more ideas.”

“This is so exciting,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve been to the bank. Have a good time, won’t you?”


And I had. Until the second day, when I hadn’t heard anything from anybody.

“Have you had any problems with your phone?” I asked Maria over breakfast.

The children were nearby, eating their porridge, albeit begrudgingly. When the “chef” overheard one of them complain that it tasted like cardboard, he said he’d do the teachers something “a bit more grown-up.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he served up the same porridge, with a jar of strawberry jam slammed down on the table between us.

“Service here is murder,” said Maria, and for a moment I didn’t know whether she was talking about the phone network or the meal we’d just been given. “Jimmy sent me an email to say that he’d been trying to call and text, but nothing got through. I don’t think I’ve received anything from anybody since we got here.”

“That explains it then,” I said, feeling relieved, though I still couldn’t shake off the queasiness in the pit of my stomach. I pushed the bowl of what looked like cement mix away from me. “I expected to hear from Mum and Thomas, but I’ve not heard a peep.”

“Give them a ring on the landline at reception,” she said.

“Good idea.”

I called Thomas first, but it went straight to answerphone. He normally had a personal voicemail greeting, so I put the phone down and redialed when I heard an automated message.

A robotic-sounding woman answered. “… Leave a message after the beep.”

“Oh hi,” I said, still unsure I’d called the right number. “It’s me, Beth. Just wanted to let you know that no messages or calls are getting through to me here. I hope everything’s okay and the deal went through. If you could call the hostel and leave a message for me, just so I know that all is well, that would be great. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you’ve trashed my flat and run off with the money.” I forced a laugh before putting the phone down.

When I called Mum, she picked up straight away. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, her voice a little panicky. “I’ve been calling you and texting you. I got a little worried when I didn’t hear back.”

I didn’t know whether that was because she thought I’d fallen down a mountain, or something had gone wrong with the deal.

“No, everything’s fine,” I assured her. “My mobile’s not working up here, so I’m calling you off a landline.”

“As long as all is well,” she said, before adding, “Has Thomas received the money?”

“Yes,” was my immediate response.

“So, did it all go okay? What did we get in the end? I’ve been dying to hear.”

“It went fine,” I said, not knowing why I was lying. “I’ve not managed to speak to Thomas this morning yet, but he’ll have the final numbers for me when I do.”

I heard her exhale down the line. “Well, that’s a relief. I barely slept a wink last night for worrying.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Mum. As soon as I speak to him I’ll give you a call back.”

“Okay, darling, I feel better for having talked to you.”

Nausea continued to swirl around, slowly snaking its way up toward my throat.

“Excuse me,” I managed to blurt out to Maria as we passed each other at the door to the ladies.’ A second later and she’d have been wearing the contents of my stomach.

“Are you okay?” she asked gingerly through the flimsy door.

“Er, no,” I managed, stating the obvious. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Oh God, you don’t think it was that porridge, do you? We’ll all be in here in a minute.”

“I don’t think I’m going to manage canoeing this morning,” I said, just before the thought of it brought along another wave of nausea.

“No worries, do you want me to stay here with you?” she said.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, opening the cubicle door.

“Jesus, you look like shit,” she exclaimed. “What do you think’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, doubting that the growing feeling of trepidation about the deal could cause me to be physically sick. “If you could cover for me I’d be really grateful.”

“Of course,” she said, rubbing my back. “Did you manage to get hold of Thomas?”

It was all I could do to shake my head. “Not yet, I’ll try him again later.”

“Why don’t you go back to your room and get some rest? I’ll check in with you at lunchtime to see how you’re feeling.”

I managed to send the children off with a smile on my face, trying to ignore my nagging conscience when little Theo said, “But Miss Russo, it won’t be as much fun without you.”

“Of course it will,” I said, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got abseiling this afternoon and I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

Except the world, it seems, is a precarious place. One tiny tilt of the axis and we’re all at sea.

“Have you definitely not got any messages for me?” I asked at the hostel lobby, just before lunch. “Might someone else have taken a call?”

The man shook his head unhelpfully.

“I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay the course,” I said when Maria came to visit me in my room. It wasn’t strictly true—I could have seen it through—but I didn’t feel well enough to be scaling down mountains and building a raft in the middle of a lake. At best, I was going to have to base myself at the hostel, which was unwelcoming at the best of times, least of all when you’re ill and want your own bed. I didn’t let on that I felt compelled to get home as quickly as I could, just to check that everything was okay with Thomas. Once I was satisfied, I would come back, free of the apprehension that was slowly poisoning my body.

I held my phone on my lap for the taxi journey to the station, impatiently waiting for the service bars to light up. We were a good four miles from the base of Snowdonia when my phone sprang into action. Ping after ping resounded as the driver tutted, no doubt used to townies who were restless and testy, eager to get back to civilization.

Is everything okay?

Did it happen?

Can you call me when you can please?

I’ve seen a wonderful kitchen

Just let me know when it’s done

I’m worried—please call me

Message after message illuminated the screen. Every single one of them from Mum.