‘Just because I don’t want to eat your damn porridge?’ She looks at me, hurt. ‘Sorry,’ I say, hating that I’m taking my frustration out on her, hating that Layla is coming between us.
‘Is it Grant?’ Ellen asks.
‘Another client. I’m just a bit under pressure, that’s all.’
‘Maybe you can talk to Harry when he comes for lunch tomorrow.’
We eat our breakfast in near-silence. I can’t stop thinking about Layla, about where she might be, if she’s somewhere close by, and I realise she’s consuming me just as she consumed me all those years ago.
‘I thought I’d do pork,’ Ellen is saying. ‘If you could get me some apples, I’ll make a sauce to go with it.’
It takes me a moment to realise she’s still talking about lunch with Harry. ‘I’ll get them now,’ I say, getting to my feet.
‘There’s no rush.’ Ellen’s voice follows me anxiously out of the back door. ‘Pork is alright, isn’t it?’
‘It’s fine,’ I call back. But I can’t bring myself to turn around and smile at her.
When Harry arrives the next day, he seems pretty pleased with himself and when he tells Ellen that he has a surprise for her, I wonder what he’s bought as well as the huge bouquet of flowers he’s already holding.
‘I’ve got something to show you first,’ Ellen says excitedly, taking his hand and drawing him into the kitchen. She stands back and throws her arm out, showing him the worktop where her set of Russian dolls stand. ‘Look!’
Harry looks so bemused that I feel almost sorry for Ellen, although I don’t know why she’s making such a thing of it. He doesn’t seem to have the slightest idea why he should be impressed.
‘She has a full set, Harry,’ I prompt.
‘Right,’ he says. ‘Yes, I can see that. Amazing.’
Ellen picks up the littlest doll. ‘I found this lying outside the gate,’ she explains. ‘I couldn’t believe it had turned up after all these years.’
‘Not the same one, surely,’ Harry says.
‘Finn doesn’t think so, but I do.’ She holds out the doll to him. ‘See this smudge of paint? Mine had that too.’
‘I’ve told her that lots of them probably do,’ I tell Harry. What I don’t tell him is that none of the four that are lying at the back of my drawer do.
‘But why would it suddenly turn up after all these years?’ Harry asks. ‘And how?’
Ellen hesitates, and before she can tell him that she thinks she saw Layla in Cheltenham a few weeks back, I jump in quickly. ‘Let’s have a drink,’ I suggest, because if Harry knows there’s a possibility that Layla is alive, he’s not going to let it go after everything he did twelve years ago to find her.
After lunch, we go out to the garden for coffee. Ellen asks me if I’d mind clearing away while she shows Harry her latest illustrations, and it’s only when I’m stacking the dishwasher that I realise she’ll use this time alone with him to tell him that she saw Layla anyway. She won’t be able to help herself. So when he comes to find me in the kitchen half an hour later, and suggests taking Peggy for a walk, I know I’m in for a grilling.
He waits until we’re heading down to the river, then launches his attack.
‘Is everything alright, Finn?’
‘Everything’s fine.’
‘It’s just that you seem a bit restless.’
‘What has Ellen said?’
‘That she thought she saw Layla in Cheltenham a couple of weeks back.’
‘Yes, but it was only someone with the same colour hair.’
‘So you don’t think it was her, then?’
‘No, and Ellen doesn’t either. We agreed she was probably mistaken.’
He raises his eyebrows at my choice of words and a part of me wishes I could confide in him. But he’ll tell me to tell Tony and I don’t want to do that before I know what Layla wants, and why she’s chosen to come back now.
‘What about the Russian doll?’ he says. ‘Strange that it should turn up after all these years.’
‘It’s not the one that Ellen lost all those years ago.’
‘She thinks it is.’
‘It’s wishful thinking. She wants Layla to be back, which is why she’s managed to convince herself that she saw Layla in Cheltenham.’
‘What about you? Do you want Layla to be back?’
I keep my voice calm but my irritation is mounting. ‘Layla’s been missing for years. She isn’t going to come back, not now.’
‘Hmm.’ He slows his pace, reaches into his pocket and draws something out. I look down and see a little Russian doll lying in the palm of his hand. ‘I found this standing on the wall when I arrived earlier and I couldn’t wait to give it to Ellen because I remembered her telling me that she’d lost hers years ago.’ He pauses. ‘But she already had one.’
So that’s why he was acting so strangely. I want to grab the stupid doll and throw it as hard as I can into the water. Luckily, Harry presumes that I’ve gone into some kind of shock at the implications of what he thinks is a second Russian doll turning up.
‘Too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?’ he goes on.
‘What are you suggesting, Harry?’ I ask, my voice thick with anger at Layla. Yesterday, she refused to meet up with me, yet she’s willing to risk coming to the house and being seen. Unless she came during the night.
‘That maybe it was Layla that Ellen saw in Cheltenham.’
I sit down on the grassy bank. Harry picks up a stick and throws it into the water for Peggy. She retrieves it and brings it back to him and he throws it for her a couple more times. I stay silent. I know he’ll be assuming all sorts of things about what I’m thinking and I feel an odd sense of power that he has no idea what I know about Layla.
‘Did you show the doll to Ellen?’ I ask, when he finally sits down beside me.
‘No, not yet.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t want her getting her hopes up.’ And the last thing I need is Ellen getting involved in a search for Layla. For the moment, she only knows about the Russian doll that she found, and that’s the way I want it to stay.
‘What about you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What about your hopes?’
‘I want Layla to be alive, of course I do,’ I say.
‘Well, it certainly looks as if she might be.’
I give a short laugh. ‘On the basis of two Russian dolls and a possible sighting? Isn’t that a bit weak?’
‘Perhaps. But I always thought she might turn up one day.’
I find myself frowning. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. I’ve never thought she was dead. Or that she was kidnapped.’
He’s never told me this before. ‘So where has she been all these years? And if you’re right, why has she turned up now? Why not last year, or five years ago, or five months after she first disappeared.’
‘I don’t know.’ He shrugs. ‘Maybe it’s all about timing.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, with you about to marry Ellen. Maybe she’s been keeping up with your life from wherever she’s been living and doesn’t like the fact that you’re about to marry her sister.’ He turns his eyes on me. ‘You do still want to marry Ellen, don’t you?’
I stretch my legs out and move to stand up. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Even if Layla is back?’
I want to give him another ‘Yes, of course’ but I feel strangely bereft. Maybe Harry senses this because he puts a hand on my arm, as if in apology for asking the question in the first place.
‘Come on, let’s head back. Didn’t Ellen say she would make scones?’
I ask him if he managed to sort out the problem that prevented him from coming down the previous weekend and he tells me about one of his notoriously difficult investors.
‘Sometimes I’d like to get out of it,’ he finishes. ‘I reckon I’m getting too old for this game.’
‘You’re forty-five.’
‘And I’ve been doing it for twenty-five years. It’s been my life. But sometimes I can’t help wishing I’d got married, had a family.’
I laugh. ‘You’d be bored out of your mind tied to one woman.’
He gives a wry grin. ‘Maybe.’
‘Anyway, if that’s what you want – marriage, a family – it’s not too late. What about the current lady in your life? Would you consider making an honest woman of her?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Then don’t waste your time – or hers,’ I advise.