Ten minutes later, Lottie returned to find Mia sitting in a cosy armchair with the child on her lap, a half-drunk glass of milk and partly eaten cookie on a small table beside them.
‘No sign of anyone,’ Lottie said, peeling off her coat. ‘I don’t understand it. Why would—’
‘There’s a note,’ Mia interrupted. ‘There. On the table.’
Lottie glanced at it, then back to Mia as if she might explain further.
‘It was in her coat pocket,’ Mia said softly.
Lottie picked it up and as she absorbed the words she felt the strangest confliction of feelings coming to life inside her.
Her name is Sasha. She will be two years old on May 14th. I know you are good people. Please take care of her until I can come back for her.
CHAPTER ONE
TWENTY-THREE YEARS LATER
NEW YEAR’S EVE
‘And you found this, where?’ Cristy asked, looking up from the pages she’d just spent the past few minutes reading, pages that had taken her briefly to another world where clearly something wasn’t right. She already wanted to know more.
‘It was amongst my aunt’s papers,’ Sadie Winters replied. She was sitting up tall, a little stiffly – nerves, Cristy suspected – and her voice wavered slightly as she spoke. Her beauty was something Cristy hadn’t especially noticed when she’d come into the room; now it seemed almost mesmerizing in its subtle form of radiance. In fact, it was as if the beauty itself was undecided on how far to go, how much it wanted to be recognized. Her hair was golden blonde and fell in soft, luxuriant waves to her shoulders; her forehead was high, her almond-shaped eyes brown and intelligent, hesitant, as well, Cristy thought. Right now they conveyed a sense of hope along with a quiet determination to stay focused on why they were there.
Sitting beside Sadie at the conference table in this spacious office in St Peter Port, with its vast picture windows framing the harbour and all manner of nautical-themed fixtures on the walls, was Sadie’s best friend, Anna Gaudion.
‘It could make a brilliant podcast,’ Anna declared eagerly, clearly thinking Cristy needed more persuasion. Perhaps Cristy did, although she had to admit she was already more than half on board. Whatever the mystery, presuming it was based in fact –two sisters, a child on a beach, an enigmatic note … would it be right forHindsight, the true-crime podcast series that she and her partner produced? ‘That’s why we’ve come to you,’ Anna ran on.
Cristy had to smile. This girl, young woman – she and Sadie were both mid-twenties – was as outspoken and excitable as she was rash and lovely.
Anna was still speaking. ‘It blew my mind when I read it the first time,’ she said. ‘It’s totally surreal, don’t you think? Like something out of a movie, only it really happened.’ She turned uncertainly to Sadie. ‘Well, we think it did,’ she added. ‘I mean, it must have, because it explains everything.’
Sadie’s voice was gentle, her smile still hesitant as she said, ‘Actually it doesn’t explain anything, which is why we’re here.’
‘Of course,’ Anna agreed. ‘But all the names are real,’ she continued, turning back to Cristy. ‘Mia and Lottie are Sadie’s aunts, and we think, well we know, that Lottie, who died just before the lockdowns, so four years ago, wrote what you’ve just read. It was her thing, you see, short stories. She had lots published, back in the day, but then she stopped. Well, we thought she did, but since Sadie started going through all her stuff she’s found dozens of them, all printed out, and not necessarily complete.’
‘And then I found that,’ Sadie added, nodding towards the pages in front of Cristy.
Cristy sat back in her chair barely noticing the torrents of rain streaking the windows behind the girls while gale-force gusts chopped up the sea and tossed fishing boats about like toys. She was about to speak when Anna said, ‘It’s a brilliant story, what we know of it so far. We just need someone to help us find out the rest. So if you’re interested, I know you do cold cases …’
From the doorway David said, ‘Anna, why don’t you let someone else speak?’
Cristy had to laugh even as her heart warmed to find him standing there, his dark-blond hair and handsome face wet with rain, his expression wry as he took in the scene and came to a quick conclusion about his daughter’s part in it. ‘Sorry if I’minterrupting,’ he said, his eyes on Cristy’s, ‘but I felt someone should.’
Anna said, indignantly, ‘I’m just trying to get things going here, Dad. You know how shy Sades is …’
‘She’s just not loud,’ he corrected, ‘otherwise she’s perfectly capable of speaking up for herself.’
Anna’s eyes shot darts at him. ‘You shouldn’t even be here,’ she told him. ‘I thought you had a meeting in town.’
‘It got cancelled, so I thought I’d call in and see how you’re getting along.’ As he came to stand behind Cristy she lifted her face and smiled as he kissed her.
‘They keep doing that,’ Anna grumbled to Sadie. ‘And it’s not like they don’t have a room.’ To her father, she said, ‘You have to go now or you’ll just end up taking over the way you always do.’
With a laugh, he said to Sadie, ‘Should I take her with me so you can get a word in?’
Apparently enjoying his tease, Sadie said, ‘She’s OK.’
With a smile, he dropped another kiss on Cristy’s forehead and was already answering a call as he left the room.