My mind goes into overdrive, wondering what to say because I can’t tell her the truth, that it was the one I found on Pharos Hill. ‘You know the time that we went to The Jackdaw for lunch? I found it on the plate along with the bill and I thought Ruby had put it there. She denied it at the time but I wanted to make sure. That’s what we were arguing about that day.’
‘On the plate?’ I hear the excitement in her voice. ‘But that means Layla was there, in the pub, when we were there!’ Bewilderment creeps in. ‘But she can’t have been – we would have seen her, surely?’
‘That’s why I thought Ruby had put it there. I thought I must have told her the story of the Russian dolls and she decided to plant a couple to make me think that Layla was back so that I wouldn’t marry you.’ Ellen frowns. ‘But she didn’t know what I was talking about and then I remembered that I had never told her the story about the dolls.’
‘So why didn’t you tell me that you found a doll on the plate?’
‘Because I didn’t want to worry you.’
‘Worry me?’ Now she looks puzzled and there’s a rare flash of anger. ‘Why would I be worried?’
‘Sorry, wrong word. I meant disappointed. I didn’t want you to be disappointed if it was just a joke.’
‘But it isn’t, is it? It isn’t a joke, Finn. Layla is alive, I’m sure of it!’ She looks how I felt when I first realised that Layla was back: half-excited, half-scared.
‘I don’t think so,’ I say.
‘Well, she must be! What I don’t understand is why she sent this doll specifically to me.’ She thinks for a moment. ‘Maybe she was hoping I’d find the one outside the house, and the one on the plate in The Jackdaw. Maybe she doesn’t want you to know that she’s back.’ I’d like to tell her that she’s wrong, that Layla wants very much for me to know she’s back but I can’t bear to admit to all the other dolls I’ve found, the emails, my secret trips to Devon. ‘Does she really think I wouldn’t tell you something so important?’
I feel so bad that I have to turn away. Why am I so reluctant to tell Ellen that her sister is alive? I can’t believe I’m keeping something so momentous from her. The truth – that I want to keep Layla to myself – fills me with guilt. But only until I’ve found out what her intentions are, I tell myself. Once I know, then I’ll tell Ellen.
‘Finn, what’s the matter?’ When I don’t reply she comes to stand in front of me, forcing me to look at her. ‘Is it because you regret asking me to marry you now that there’s a possibility that Layla is back?’ she asks, her voice faltering.
‘Never,’ I say, putting my arms around her. ‘How could I regret that?’
‘So if it is Layla who sent me the doll, if she is alive, you wouldn’t want to be with her?’
‘Not in that way, no. I’d be glad to see her, of course I would. But twelve years have gone by. We’re not the same people, we’re not in the same place.’
‘Thank you,’ she says softly. ‘Thank you for that. When the doll arrived yesterday, I was so happy. But then I was worried, worried that Layla being back would change things. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about it. Because she is back, Finn, surely you must see that? Between us we’ve found three Russian dolls.’
‘But why is she leaving the dolls in the first place?’ I ask, hoping she might have a different insight. ‘Why not just come to the house and tell us she’s back? She obviously knows where we live.’
‘I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. Maybe she’s scared.’ She raises her head and looks up at me. ‘We should tell Tony. He’ll know what to do.’
‘Not yet,’ I say quickly, needing more time. ‘We don’t know for sure that it is Layla behind the dolls.’ She opens her mouth to protest but I carry on. ‘Let’s wait a few days, see if anything else happens. You never know, she might turn up on the doorstep,’ I add, hoping that she won’t, because how could I choose between them if they asked me to? ‘Maybe the Russian dolls are a way of preparing us for her arrival.’
‘I never thought of that,’ Ellen says. She thinks for a moment. ‘But it’s a bit odd, isn’t it?’
‘We don’t know where’s she’s been or what she’s been through, if she has come back. Her mind might not be as stable as it was.’
Ellen frowns at this. I take her hand. ‘Have you got the envelope the doll came in?’
‘Yes, it’s in the kitchen.’
‘I’d like to have a look at it.’
‘Come on, then.’
The envelope is brown, the sticker with our typed address, white. Even though Ellen had said it came in the post, I’d presumed it had been put through the door, because the other Russian dolls had all been hand-delivered. But there are stamps, and a postmark. I bring it up to eye level.
‘Cheltenham,’ says Ellen. ‘It was the first thing I checked when I saw what was inside.’ Again her voice has that mixture of excitement and fear. ‘She’s here, Finn, close by. After all these years. It’s incredible.’ She hesitates. ‘But also a bit scary. I mean, it’s wonderful that she’s alive, but it’s not going to be easy, is it?’
‘No, probably not,’ I say, acknowledging the understatement.
By the time I go out to my office three hours later I feel mentally exhausted from trying to keep up with Ellen’s continual speculation about where Layla has been for the past twelve years and what will happen now that she’s back. It had been hard to find reasons as to why I shouldn’t phone Tony to ask his advice, or Harry to tell him the good news. When she asked me if I would be willing for Layla to stay with us if she needed to, just until she had sorted herself out, I began to realise something of the nightmare I could soon be in and I felt real anger towards Layla for sending the doll to Ellen. How much longer was I going to be able to stall before Ellen insisted that I speak to Tony? Did Layla understand what she had set in motion? I take out my mobile, determined to spell it out to her. But she’s beaten me to it.
Did Ellen receive the Russian doll I sent her?
Yes
Does she know we’re in contact?
No. Can we meet now?
Soon
What is it you want, Layla?
The answer is so long in coming that I think she’s going to leave me hanging again. But then a message comes in, no text, just attachments. I open the first one and find myself looking at a photo of the two of us, taken on Tower Bridge by one of Layla’s friends from the wine bar. Then other photos, set up by Layla on a delayed timer so that she could run and join me in front of the camera, her arms round my neck, her lips on my cheek. It’s painful to remember how much in love we were. I continue to scroll through photo after photo, evidence of how happy we were together, and the pain intensifies. And at the end, a one-word answer to my question.
YOU
THIRTY-FIVE
Layla
I asked Finn to tell Ellen I was back as a kind of test. He’d said he wanted to see me but I didn’t want us to meet, not yet.
The voice rejoiced when he didn’t do as I asked. ‘You see,’ it said. ‘He doesn’t want to see you that much. If he did, he would tell Ellen.’ I didn’t care. The way I saw it, the fact that Finn wouldn’t tell her meant he wanted to keep me to himself. More importantly, it meant he was keeping secrets from her.
I gave him a week, then sent a doll to Ellen so that she and Finn could have that conversation, the one where they both acknowledged I was back. I worried that I’d played my hand too soon but Finn and I had reached an impasse and I was eager to move things forward. Now it was up to Ellen. I loved her and didn’t want to hurt her but I needed her to do the right thing, and leave me and Finn to get on with the rest of our lives together. I knew it was na?ve to expect her to walk out so that I could walk back in again but it was only the reverse of what had happened before, when I had walked out and she had walked in. At the time, I’d been happy for her to have Finn. But now it was time to give him back.
I knew Finn would be annoyed that I’d sent a doll to Ellen. He wasn’t able to see beyond the complications to the endgame. It was also about control, or lack of it. I was unpredictable. He didn’t know what I was going to do next. He didn’t know that it depended on Ellen.
Because Ellen had her secrets too.
THIRTY-SIX