Page 37 of The Sisters at the Last House Before the Sea

A teenaged girl, in a thick coat, tragic woolly hat and mittens, nodded. ‘I’m about to drop this.’ She tilted her head towards the wooden crate she was carrying. ‘Help!’

When the crate began to wobble, Maisie moved forwards and grabbed hold of it before everything went flying. The crate was heavier than she’d expected but, between the two of them, they managed to haul it into the back of a pick-up truck that was parked nearby.

‘Thanks. I almost dropped the lot.’ The girl sniffed and rubbed a mitten across her cheeks that were red with cold. ‘Are you here to do a run?’

‘A run?’ Maisie screwed up her nose. The prospect of her going for a jog in perfect running weather was unlikely…but in snow? Dream on!

‘Great, everyone’s here,’ said a slim man with greying hair as he walked past her. He had bright green eyes that reminded Maisie of a cat, and he was carrying another crate that he pushed into the back of the truck. Following him was a woman in a Barbie- pink ski jacket.

They got into the vehicle and left the door open for the girl. ‘Are you going to get in, then?’ she asked Maisie.

‘Um, why would I?’

Realisation dawned in the girl’s pale eyes and she laughed. ‘Sorry. I assumed you were here to help.’

‘Help with what, exactly?’

‘We’re taking provisions to some of the outlying houses which are cut off by the bad weather, and checking up on people. We’re due more heavy snow later so they might be without food for days.’ She glanced up at the leaden sky. ‘Anyway, I’d better go, before it does start snowing again. Thanks for helping me with the crate.’

She was almost fully inside the truck when Maisie called after her, ‘Stop! Wait a minute.’ When the girl looked round, half in and half out of her seat, Maisie asked: ‘Do you need more help, then?’

The girl smiled. ‘I guess so. The more hands the better.’

Maisie hesitated a split second before saying: ‘OK. Count me in.’

‘Great.’ The girl swung her second leg into the truck and slid across the seat so there was room for Maisie to climb in beside her. Was this a good idea? Maisie got in quickly before she could change her mind, slammed the door shut and the truck pulled away.

As the vehicle drove slowly through the snowy streets, Maisie stared out of the steamed-up window and wondered what on earth had possessed her. She was being driven out of Heaven’s Cove, to who knows where, with people she’d only met two minutes earlier. It was ridiculous, and unwise, and unsettling…and strangely exhilarating. She felt fired up with an excitement she hadn’t experienced in a long time. And the fact that Caitlin would be horrified by her actions was a bonus.

‘Are you both OK there, in the back?’ said the man in the passenger seat as the truck slid across a narrow lane, trying to gain traction on the slippery road.

Maisie nodded, hoping that the woman driving knew what she was doing. It was all very well going off and having an adventure, but she’d rather not end up in a ditch.

The woman was called Freya, Maisie quickly ascertained, and the man was Ryan. They didn’t look like kidnappers or perverts, Maisie reassured herself, feeling extra-nervous as the truck rounded a corner – rather more quickly than she thought prudent – and Heaven’s Cove disappeared in the rear-view mirror. She had a sudden urge to leap out and run back to Caitlin, which was ridiculous for three reasons – one, jumping from a moving truck wasn’t to be recommended; two, she’d probably die of hypothermia in her dead woman boots before she got back to Rose Cottage; and three, Caitlin was no doubt enjoying the peace while she was out and wouldn’t be overly delighted to see her.

‘What’s your name?’ The girl squeezed into the back seat next to her was talking to her.

‘Maisie. Um…what about you?’

‘I’m Bethany. You can call me Beth, if you like. Most people do.’

Most people, as if she knew lots of people and had loads of friends. Maisie didn’t have many friends, partly because she didn’t fit in with the in-crowd – though things were looking up now Madison had accepted her into her WhatsApp group. But also, she suspected, because potential ‘nice’ friends were warned off by their parents: Don’t get too involved with that Maisie girl. She often seems to be in trouble.

She didn’t mean to get into trouble so much. And being in trouble wasn’t always pleasant, in spite of the insouciant ‘I don’t give a monkey’s’ air she’d carefully cultivated. But she could be spontaneous and do things without thinking them through, which seemed to annoy the hell out of the people around her.

Maisie shifted in her seat, feeling uncomfortable. Here she was, in a stranger’s car, heading away from people she knew. That was the height of spontaneity, and Caitlin would not be impressed.

‘Have you just moved to Heaven’s Cove?’ Beth asked, wincing when the truck slid across the road.

‘No, I’m visiting. I’m from London.’

Maisie waited for Beth to look suitably impressed that she was sharing a vehicle with a streetwise teenager who lived at the centre of…everything. But she simply nodded and said, ‘Cool.’

Cool? No one Maisie knew said ‘cool’ any more.

‘Do you like living in London?’ Beth asked.

Maisie went to say that of course she liked it – she loved it. But the words wouldn’t come. She looked out of the window at the beautiful snowy landscape – trees and fields stretching into the distance on the right and, to the left, the occasional glimpse of sea, a flash of brightness under the white-grey sky. It was very different from the skyscrapers and litter and constant noise.

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