Читать книгу Her Last Lie: A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist! - Amanda Brittany, Amanda Brittany - Страница 17

Chapter 7

Thursday, 27 October

‘Who’s Andy?’ Jack said, barely looking up, as Isla headed across the kitchen. He’d arrived home from work about an hour ago, and plonked himself at the breakfast bar with a bottle of lager. He was watching film previews on his laptop, while Isla finished writing up an article that needed submitting. They would grab a takeaway later.

She stopped and stared at Jack, who finally looked up and smiled. ‘Andy?’ she said, moving on towards the fridge, and grabbing a bottle of wine.

‘Andy Fisher?’

She looked over his shoulder to see he had Facebook open. He only used it for pages on his favourite films and TV programmes, and only had Isla and a couple of mates as friends.

‘He’s commented on your last update.’

‘Has he?’ She sloshed wine into a glass. ‘You want some?’

‘No, thanks.’ He pointed at his half-drunk lager. ‘He’s put, “Miss you already. Had such a brilliant time with you.”’

‘Has he?’

‘Did you meet him in Canada?’ His tone was upbeat.

‘I met quite a few people in Canada, Jack,’ she said, putting the bottle back in the fridge, and slamming the door shut. ‘Most added me on Facebook. I can’t remember half of them, and I can’t remember him, if I’m honest.’ She paused. ‘Let me see.’

‘No point,’ he said. ‘His profile picture is a maple leaf. There’s nothing to see from my profile. You’ve loved his comment.’

‘Have I? Well you know me, I “love” everyone’s comments.’ She took several gulps of wine. ‘You’re not jealous are you?’ she added with a half-laugh.

‘Of course not.’ He looked horrified. ‘If I was jealous, I wouldn’t let you go to that reunion.’

‘Let me?’ Her eyes widened with a mixture of playfulness and annoyance.

‘Oh come on, you know what I mean. I’m just saying I’m not jealous. I trust you.’

She thought for a moment, not meeting his eyes. ‘Actually, I’m pretty sure Andy was one of a group of oldies at a hotel I was staying at. They knew how to have fun and joined me in. Made a fuss of me because I was young and on my own. That’s all.’

‘So Andy’s a fun-loving OAP?’

She laughed, scooping her hair behind her ears. ‘Yep, something like that. They’re the best kind.’

She smiled and sat down next to him, opening her laptop and keying in a website address she’d found earlier for a lodge in Sweden.

‘Where’s that? It looks beautiful,’ he said, looking over at the snowy scene.

‘Abisko,’ she said. ‘It’s in the Arctic Circle.’

‘Bloody cold then.’

‘Yes, well at the moment it is. I was thinking of going. It will be so peaceful, less than a hundred people live there. I thought it might be a great place to include in my book.’ She clicked through some pictures on the site. ‘It’s a fascinating place. For three months in the summer the sun never goes down, and in winter it doesn’t come up.’

‘You want to go somewhere where it’s dark all the time?’ He looked bewildered.

She smiled. ‘There’s about five hours of daylight at the moment, which will be plenty to take lots of photos,’ she said. ‘It’s not until December and January that the sun doesn’t come up.’ She paused, searching his face, unsure if he minded her going. ‘I don’t have to go. I have just been away.’

‘When were you thinking of taking off?’

‘Well, I’d like to try and finish my book by the end of the year, and Scandinavia would be the perfect final chapter, don’t you think?’

‘It would, yes.’ His tone was even.

‘I was thinking maybe the second week in November. Perhaps you could come with me.’ But her words were empty, and she felt mean even saying them. She knew he couldn’t get time off work at short notice.

He shrugged and shook his head. ‘I can try to get it off, but I doubt I will,’ he said, confirming her thoughts. ‘Plus the cold freaks me out.’ He broke into a smile. ‘There’s my recurring freezer dream to consider.’

She smiled too, but knew there was more to it than that. He’d told her how as a six-year-old he’d climbed into the chest freezer to get an iced lolly, and the lid had fallen down on him and locked.

‘Mum had fallen asleep,’ he’d told Isla a while back. ‘Pissed, I realised later. I was always left to my own devices. If Dad hadn’t come back, I’d have died.’ The trauma had stayed with him. He hated the cold.

‘Did you know that it only takes seventy seconds to freeze your little finger,’ he said, holding his finger close to his face. ‘Must depend on the size of your finger, I guess.’

‘Good God, Jack, please don’t tell me you’ve tested out that theory.’

‘No, of course not – I read it on the Internet.’

‘Must be true then,’ she said, with an air of sarcasm.

‘Yeah it is, some physiologist experimented on himself. I wonder if your finger becomes brittle, like ice?’

‘Please stop talking.’

He laughed and looked into her eyes. ‘Go to Sweden, Isla,’ he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s time to finish your book.’