Local Girl Missing Read Online Free Page B

appraises me with a wry smile and I wonder if he’s disappointed that I’m not as he remembers. ‘You’ve hardly changed a bit, Frankie Howe,’ he says, as charming as ever. ‘You still look like a lady.’ And I’m there again, in your bedroom, with Daniel lounging on the bed and teasing us with that sardonic raise of an eyebrow, his grey eyes glinting.
    I laugh. ‘I forgot you used to call me Lady Frankie.’
    ‘Well, you were posh.’ He pushes the hair out of his eyes and the gesture is so familiar, so endearing, that I well up. I blink back tears, annoyed with myself. I’ve never been a crier, that was your domain. I always used to tease you that you lived too close to the well.
    ‘I was never posh,’ I say, my discomfort making me sound harsher than I intended, but I know it will fall on deaf ears. It always has. I was the girl from the big hotel whereas you and Daniel were from the estate, with its late-1960s terraces and tatty garages.
    He fishes a key from his pocket. ‘Come on then, Lady Frankie,’ he teases. ‘Let me show you your castle.’
    I follow him down the long hallway. The ceilings are high, with elaborate cornicing. The stairs are carpeted in a soft biscuit-coloured wool. There are two doors on either side of the staircase with numbers on them. ‘Yours is on the first floor,’ he says, noticing me pausing outside the door on the left. I follow him up the stairs to a wide, square landing. There are two more doors facing each other with a small arched window in between. I go to the window and look out over the bay.
    ‘Wow, fabulous views,’ I say, although my heart sinks. I don’t want to have to look at that pier every day, to be reminded of the place where you went missing.
To the place where you died
, I correct myself.
    I sense him as he moves closer, to stand behind me.He places a hand on my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry that it overlooks the pier,’ he says as if reading my mind. ‘I didn’t think you’d want a hotel in the centre and these apartments are amazing, perfect for Lady Frankie,’ he jokes, lightening the mood. I turn to face him, our noses inches apart.
    ‘It’s fine,’ I lie. ‘You did the right thing, and I’m only here for a bit …’ I trail off and our eyes lock. The air between us changes, becoming thicker with everything that’s been left unsaid over the last eighteen years.
    He breaks eye contact first and turns towards the door on the left. A chrome number 4 glints against the white painted wood. Silently he inserts the key into the lock and throws the door open. The air is stale, as if it’s been shut up for too long.
    I shadow him as he shows me around the apartment. It’s pleasant, with large, airy rooms and neutral painted walls. The bedroom is a small double, overlooking the dustbins in the courtyard at the back. There’s a modern galley kitchen next door. The sitting room’s large bay window overlooks the rough grey seas. The floors are mahogany and creak under my boots. It’s stylishly furnished and obviously for couples rather than families with small kids, judging by the pale grey velvet sofa and low glass-topped coffee table. A widescreen television sits in the corner and there is a cast-iron fireplace opposite the sofa with a stack of logs piled next to it. It’s a luxury place but has an unlived-in vibe, a musty smell that reeks of weeks standing empty.
    ‘It’s only a one-bedroom but my mate says you canstay until next Friday. It’s booked out after that, surprisingly. Someone coming for a long weekend. Otherwise you could’ve stayed longer.’
    I try not to blanch. The thought of staying here for a few days fills me with dread, let alone a whole week.
    ‘I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, Daniel. I’m in charge at the hotel now, my dad … he …’
    I feel Daniel stiffen beside me. ‘I read about your dad,’ he says, turning to look at me. ‘Must have been a huge shock, for all of you.’
    I stare at him in surprise.