‘IS SOMETHING WRONG?’ TOM ASKS Lily after dinner. They’ve gone for a walk on the terrace, bundled up in coats and scarves. Even up here, near the warmth of the house, Lily can hardly lift her feet high enough to crunch down on the snow. ‘Only you’ve been really quiet since Sara got the key,’ he continues. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the –’ his eyes slide down to her tummy as he mouths – ‘baby, is there?’
Lily pulls Tom by the arm to one side. ‘I said don’t say anything.’
‘I just want to know you’re all right, that’s all.’ He hangs his head. ‘Sorry.’
‘Doesn’t matter. No one heard.’
‘You’re not having second thoughts about giving Sara the key, are you? Or leading her to the next one? ’Cause I wouldn’t blame you if you were. And it’s OK to want the house, you know. You can tell me. I wouldn’t blame you for that either, especially now with the ba—’
‘Oh my God, Tom!’ Lily shouts.
He raises his hands. ‘Sorry, sorry.’
‘It’s reassuring, really, that you can’t be discreet. There are so many secrets here, jostling like a pudding in a steamer. You blurting things out releases the pressure.’
‘I promise I’ll shut up from now on.’
And he does. Though it doesn’t stop his meaningful looks when they get back inside. It’s too much. Sometimes you have to get away from even your favourite people.
‘I’m going to make hot chocolate,’ Lily says. ‘Do you want one?’
‘I’ll help,’ Tom says, rolling up his sleeves.
‘I need a bit of space,’ Lily says, as gently as she can.
Tom’s face falls. He nods lots, as if to cover it.
Guilt floods her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, giving him a quick hug. ‘I’m tired and it’s all a bit much. Chocolate and an early night are what I need.’
Tom is still nodding when he walks away. Lily wishes she didn’t feel overwhelming relief at being on her own again. But that’s her all over. Even in a house with a killer, she’d rather be alone.
There is another reason, other than Tom’s unfathomable lack of discretion. Lily walks into the larder that has been tidied, with all the jars lined up again on their shelves. She picks up the bowl of chocolate syrup and unpeels the clingfilm she’d covered it with. Taking a sniff, Lily is thrown back into sense memory, just as she was earlier when Sara found the key in the syrup. She’d had to block it then, but now it is different.
She sits down at the kitchen table, closing her eyes.
Last time she smelled this syrup, she was also at this table. So many years ago. Uncle Edward was planning a solo show of Hamlet to be performed on the terrace at a Shakespeare conference, and he had wanted blood. ‘The secret to good fake blood,’ he’d said, ‘is to make it something you don’t mind in your mouth.’ He’d then mixed corn syrup into the chocolate, added drops of water, red food colouring, and a touch of blue. He kept stirring and tasting and painting his skin with the mix. He always asked her what she thought, and nodded seriously at her suggestions.
At last, when they’d found the perfect consistency and colour, Edward had offered Lily the spoon. ‘Do you want to try it?’ he said.
Lily nodded. It smelled tasty, and who wouldn’t want fake blood pouring from their mouth?
She scooped a big spoonful of the mixture and dolloped it on her tongue.
Edward said, ‘Now go and scare your mother.’
Lily giggled, and the fake blood oozed from her mouth.
Edward laughed. ‘Run, before it all leaks out.’
Lily rushed out of the kitchen. She couldn’t call for Mum as she’d spill the blood and spoil the surprise. She searched every floor, anxiety rising. Her throat wanted her to swallow, but she wouldn’t.
If Mum wasn’t inside, she must be in the grounds. Lily made a new plan. She’d run onto the terrace to call out, not caring any more if she lost the blood, she just wanted her Mum.
Just as she was running, for the French doors, saliva pooling in her mouth, Mum walked up to her from behind. ‘Are you all right, love?’ she asked.
Lily opened her mouth in surprise. The blood mix ran slowly down from her lips.
Mum screamed and grabbed her.
Edward ran out of the kitchen, a big smile on his face. ‘It’s fake, sis, don’t worry.’
Mum glared at him.
‘We made it together,’ Lily said.
Mum couldn’t look at her. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ she said.
Lily couldn’t understand why Mum didn’t find it funny. She felt herself zipped into sadness as Mum wiped and scrubbed at Lily’s face.
‘Now put on some fresh clothes,’ Mum said. She still wasn’t smiling. Lily couldn’t work out what she’d done wrong.
‘Are they ruined?’ she asked, looking down at her T-shirt, now covered in thick blood.
‘It’ll come out of your clothes easily enough,’ Mum said. She looked as if she was about to cry.
Lily couldn’t hug her, though, as she was covered in the blood. She’d run up and get changed, then hug Mum for ages. But what if she couldn’t find her again?
‘Where were you?’ Lily asked. ‘I looked everywhere.’
Mum glanced down the hall, and back again. ‘We must have missed each other,’ she said. She took a deep breath, then, as if she was about to go underwater. And then her face softened. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll stay here until you get back. Then we can do some sewing together, calm us both down.’ Mum touched Lily’s head lightly but with such tenderness. ‘I’ve got some new sequins.’
Lily grinned and ran up the staircase, sadness unzipped. She stopped at the top and looked back down. Mum was still standing in exactly the same spot. But she looked scared. She had her hand at her throat. Tears fell down her face, as shiny as sequins.
*
Lily opens her eyes again.
Is this why the key was in the syrup, to remind Lily of the fake blood? It’s the same make as the one Uncle Edward used. If so, is Aunt Liliana pointing to Lily’s uncle as playing a part in Mariana’s murder?
It can’t be. Edward was wonderful. Everyone loved him. He was the one to make everyone laugh and smile. It’s almost impossible to think of him as a killer. Almost.