A Trick of the Mind Read Free

there’s a great view.’
    ‘Yes. Wait till the morning!’ I said, then wished I hadn’t. Something about that sentence filled me with unease. But why? I was here, in my aunt’s old home, that
I’d always loved, with my best friends and Frank’s little dog. Nothing to worry about. I would be the new woman painter – replacing my aunt – with a dog and a house by the
sea. An image I’d always dreamt of for myself. I looked over my shoulder three times, though, just in case.
    ‘How long did your aunt live here?’ Chiara asked when we were back downstairs. She was moving about the kitchen, picking things up and looking at them, curiosities
from another era – a quilted tea cosy, the aluminium pans people no longer used. A glass egg timer filled with sand. Everything had May’s mark on it; she had painted her glasses, made
candle holders out of pottery and decorated them in her distinctive style, pretty muted colours, reflecting the sand and sea grass, the sky outside. Ochres, lilacs and blues.
    ‘As long as I remember. My very earliest memories are of holidays down here with May. But listen, it’s late,’ I said. ‘You must be starving. Let’s have the
antipasti and we can eat properly as soon as Louise gets here.’
    ‘I’ll make Bellinis for those who aren’t up the duff!’ Chiara said. ‘Ooh look, you got artichoke hearts. And Parma ham. I’ve taught you something. I brought
the pudding, like you asked, a tiramisu.’
    Luckily, since I wasn’t much good in the kitchen, Chiara was the greatest cook I knew. Yet she hardly ever ate a thing. Her baby bump barely showed though she was over eighteen weeks gone.
The not eating was something I knew not to mention. She covered it up by feeding everyone else.
    ‘Babes, you’ve spilt something on your dress,’ Chiara said. ‘Oil, I think.’
    I looked down and was startled to see that there was a dark stain across my hip. I must have spilt something on it as I got the food ready. My stomach turned over, my pulse began to race again.
Anxiety, with no obvious focus. Just that uneasy feeling that threatened to spoil my weekend.
    ‘Bugger!’ I said. ‘ I’ll stick it in the wash.’ My mouth was dry. ‘Could you just light these candles, while I change?’
    Upstairs I pulled the dress over my head. It was mad to feel anxious – my friends were here, everything was good. Yes, I’d left Finn, but that was something
I’d been planning for months. I’d forgotten to switch off the radio and the presenter burbled on in the background. Something made me tune in to the next item on the news.
    ‘Police are appealing for witnesses after a hit-and-run incident on the A1095. Anyone on the road at approximately eight thirty this evening and who might have seen the pedestrian, who is
in hospital in a critical condition, is asked to come forward.’
    I stood, rooted to the spot. The anxiety I’d barely registered, my damp palms. It was all slotting into place. The car had jolted. Veered sideways. There had been oddly shaped shadows on
the road behind me.
    But I’d ignored the voice that urged me to turn round and check.
    I hadn’t gone back. I hadn’t gone back.

CHAPTER THREE
    Aunty May died too soon. Not age-wise, although I’m learning that however long a life, it is never as long as it
could
have been.
    May was my mother’s much older sister and I loved her. It was six months since she’d died. She’d been in my life for as long as I could remember so I’d thought she would
be here forever. I’d been planning to visit her the weekend I got the news.
    ‘We didn’t know, none of us knew she’d go and die,’ my brother Ben reassured me, but it made no difference. I wanted to wind the clock back. I had put off visiting May,
the last weekend of her life, to spend a day shopping with Chiara! I’d thought I could go the following weekend and was now fighting the belief that if I’d gone I would have been able
to prevent her dying –