The bathroom door rattled. Hannah. Are you all right? Her mum.
Yeah, Im fine. Just an upset stomach.
Footsteps in the corridor as her mum walked away. In the mirror Hannah saw last nights make-up smeared around her mouth and eyes. Her stiff and unwashed hair hadnt been trimmed or coloured for ages. It looked yellow rather than blonde, the roots dark. No wonder the job interview yesterday had been such a disaster. It was a surprise shed even got as far as an interview this time.
She stepped into the shower and turned the power on full. Stood in the hot water for as long as she could, letting it numb her throbbing head, then dressed and went downstairs. Better go and face it.
Her mum, Ruby, was sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee pot in front of her. As always there were papers and a laptop open next to her. Hannah poured herself some coffee and sat opposite, pulled out her phone and began to scroll.
Morning. Ruby took off her reading glasses and pushed back her dark hair. It was streaked with grey now, but to Hannah she looked the same as always. Except those tiny new creases around her mouth and eyes, the ones that Hannah had caused. There was no denying it: Hannahs lifestyle over the past weeks and months had aged her mother.
Ruby reached for her hand and it felt so warm and familiar that Hannah had to look away. How did the interview go?
Her throat felt raw. It was all right. Theyll let me know in a week or so. She remembered the way the panel had looked at her as she stammered through their questions. The silence while she muttered her thanks and stumbled towards the door. She still couldnt meet Rubys eye. I didnt really fancy it though.
Ruby sighed. Have you seen anything that you do fancy? Hannah gritted her teeth, but her mum continued speaking. And what time did you get in last night?
Mum. A deep breath, trying not to let it turn into a sigh. About one, I think.
Ruby shifted, closed the laptop and began loading papers into her bag. Hannah stood up and walked to the sink, staring out at the immaculate lawn and the freshly painted brown fence. Her mother had probably been lying awake last night, listening for the key in the lock, thinking about all the things that could have happened to her daughter. Even though Ruby had worked right through Hannahs childhood, she had always been there. Always came to school plays, sports days, parents events. Took time off when Hannah was sick and read to her every single night.
The years of hard work had all paid off and her mum was now a successful financial consultant, working long hours, but still finding the time to keep this house spotless and to worry about her daughters life. Hannah knew she could still rely on her; she just didnt want to. Because Ruby couldnt help her now. There are some things that even your mum cant cure.
Hannah, are you listening to me? Ruby was fiddling with the handle of her bag. I dont think youre ready to start a new job yet. Its too soon. Why not have a couple of weeks off? A stiff little smile. Take a holiday. I can help out if you cant afford it.
There was a pause and eventually Ruby sighed. After what happened with Ben youre probably still in shock. Thats why youre behaving like this.
Hannah turned back to the garden and took a few cautious sips of her coffee. She felt her stomach begin to churn and tipped her mug out into the sink. Watched the brown liquid swill down the drain, then moved towards the door. Id better dry my hair.
Ill make some food, Ruby called after her. Hannah wanted to say she couldnt eat anything, wanted to look her in the eye and tell her how she really felt: how guilt was eating away at her insides, making her drink more and more. How she wished she could have kept the flat that she and Ben had shared. How she still cried herself to sleep thinking about him.
Instead she went slowly upstairs, feeling a hundred years old. Ruby was right: she couldnt face the thought of a new job. Shed lost the last one because shed been arriving later and later, hungover most of the time: making mistakes. And because she didnt care enough to try. Didnt care about anything.
The next day, Hannah tried ringing Lori four times and left messages, but there was no response. By evening, she felt abandoned, like she was back in the playground at school and all the popular girls were whispering about her. But Lori wasnt like everyone else, she was always there. Hannah locked her bedroom door and sat on the bed, her hand shaking as she held the phone, dialled the number she knew by heart, listened to the ringing until it went to voicemail.
Lori its me again. Listen, Im sorry. Im going to fix this I just need some time to get my head together. She swallowed. Youre my best friend.
The only one she had left. Everyone else hated her almost as much as she hated herself. She ended the call and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
Her phone vibrated in her hand and for one second she thought it was Lori, calling her back to say sorry and to tell her it was all going to be all right. Or maybe it was another hate-filled message from one of Bens friends. But she had turned off notifications for Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, so it couldnt be that. She unlocked her screen and found the tiny red notification next to the image of a house on her screen, an app she hardly ever used: Cloud BNB.
Of course: the holiday to County Mayo in Ireland. Ben had persuaded her to book a room at The Guesthouse, a beautiful country home, and she had forgotten all about it. They were supposed to go together.
Hannah clicked on the message from the host: Henry Laughton. His photo showed a solid-looking man wearing a Barbour jacket, standing at the foot of a green hill with a muddy dog at his side.
Hi Hannah and Ben,
I hope youre looking forward to your stay at The Guesthouse. As promised the kitchen will be stocked with enough food and drink to last the whole of your stay. Fallon village has a small local store for any other essentials and there is a supermarket fifteen miles away if you need anything unusual or exotic.
As this is self-check-in, I may not be there to meet you. Entry is by key code a second code will let you into your own room and you may arrive any time after 2pm. Please make yourselves at home.
Other rooms for use by guests are the large eat-in kitchen, the drawing room and the library. So plenty of space to spread out and be solitary or sociable as you prefer.
She finished reading and closed her eyes. Couldnt stop herself remembering when the offer email had first arrived. Sitting at her desk with Ben beside her and her life intact.
She had pointed at the email from Cloud BNB on her screen. He looked over her shoulder, his head close to hers. Hannah clicked through to the website and they both read the description. The Guesthouse was owned by Preserve the Past: a charity dedicated to restoring historic Irish buildings.
They moved on to the photographs. The luxurious bedrooms with large windows facing sweeping countryside views. Roaring fires and stone floors. Wide-angled shots that made the rooms seem enormous. The building itself had classical lines and some original architectural features inside.
Ben leaned over her shoulder and clicked back to the offer email. Wow, so cool and cheap. We should go. Can we go? Its perfect, and a great area for walking too.
She laughed. OK, well youve managed to put me off completely now.
She laughed. OK, well youve managed to put me off completely now.
The offer is for the opening week. Wed be the first visitors, so theyre throwing in all sorts of extras. Food and drink in the fridge, logs for the open fires, free run of the house. He kissed the back of her neck and slid his hands down to her breasts, whispering in her ear. We might be the only guests. Imagine cuddling up in front of a roaring fire miles from anywhere.
Hannah continued to look through the photos. I love the building, but its kind of outdoorsy. And She touched the screen. There are five visitor bedrooms, so it could be packed.
Well just take a bottle to our room and lock ourselves in for the week. Ben kissed her again and again. Short sharp kisses on her neck on her face, her lips, and then everywhere and they were soon making love on the sofa.
An hour later they booked the best bedroom on offer and organized their flights.
Hannah bit her lip and killed the app. She was due to arrive in Ireland in two days time. She couldnt go there was no way she should reply to the host and cancel. Pulling on a jumper and leggings, she forced herself to go downstairs.
Her mum had gone to do some work in the study and a pot of pasta simmered on the stove. At the kitchen window Hannah poured herself a glass of water with a shaking hand. Outside in the garden, autumn had crept up without her noticing, the trees heavy with red, orange, and golden leaves, their colours glinting in the evening sun.
There was a reason she had chosen County Mayo. It was probably why the offer email had been sent to her in the first place, after she had spent long nights trawling through Cloud BNB, zooming in on Fallon village, refreshing the page, waiting for a sign to appear there like a beacon. It was a reason she didnt want to think about now, something that she had only ever told Ben.
What would Ben say if he could see her now? She could remember the smell of his aftershave, the way he held her at night when she awoke screaming from a nightmare.
The way he looked at her when he found out that she was cheating on him.
She took a sip of water, trying to ignore her shaking hand. When Ben realized what Hannah had done, their argument had spiralled into a fight that ended their relationship. Shed tried to make him understand, promised it would never happen again, but it had been no good. Hed stormed out into the night, and that had been the last time she would ever see him.
Hannah looked around the kitchen at the immaculate surfaces. Her mothers constant, almost oppressive worry, this house like a pristine cage. Maybe she should go to Ireland, to get away from it all. She watched a magpie hop down onto the lawn and begin to peck at something dead in the grass. Her mum and Lori would certainly be relieved to see the back of her.
Everyone would.
Because Ben was dead, and it was her fault.
Chapter Two
She regretted it as soon as her plane landed. Shed left London in sparkling sunshine and arrived at Ireland West Airport to drizzle that turned to rain. And it got worse as the taxi headed for Fallon. Water flooded down the cab windows, the frantic swish, swish of the wipers failing to drown out the drivers annoying country music.
At least he didnt speak to her and he held his thick red neck so stiffly it was obvious he wouldnt welcome any chatty comments from the back seat. She tried to relax as green mile after green mile sped by, distorted by the streams of grey water. It didnt matter what the weather was like: she wasnt here to enjoy herself, just to get some respite, to get away from social media and from Londons clubs and bars. Ben had encouraged her to make this trip and had paid half the cost. At least this was one tiny way in which she wasnt going to let him down.
She must have dozed off, because the cab door suddenly opened, and the driver was standing staring in at her. The rain had eased to a thin colourless veil, as if a net curtain hung in front of the fields.
The fields that stretched out for miles on both sides.
She sat up in her seat and looked around. They were parked in a layby in the middle of nowhere. Sorry, excuse me, I think theres been a mistake. I asked for The Guesthouse.
The man nodded.
Its on an app called Cloud BNB. Its where Im staying. She pulled out her phone. I can show you a picture.
He said nothing. His wide, ruddy face expressionless as he gave the screen one fleeting glance.
It used to be called Fallon House.
He pulled the door wider, not looking at her. This is as far as I go.
It must be a joke, probably some sort of local prank. She swallowed. I want The Guesthouse.
He turned away so that, with his accent, she struggled to make out the words. Take the path over the fields. Ye can see it there. He pointed along a muddy track towards a low range of hills. Keep going straight.
But wheres the village?
He gestured ahead. Along this road. Bout five or six miles.
The website said the house was near the village, she said weakly.
He ignored her and walked back, opened the boot and slung her case down onto the roadside. She had no choice. She and Ben hadnt intended to bring a car, so neither of them had thought to check whether the place was accessible by road.
Cold rain dripped down the neck of her parka as she shrugged on her rucksack and pulled up her hood, staring at her trainers and wishing she had brought water-resistant footwear. It was only afternoon but felt like a gloomy winter evening. Bleak, nothing like the sunlit hills and glittering streams the website had promised.
The driver closed his door, impatient now. He pointed again. Thats the way.
The track led off through puddles and muddy ridges towards the hills. She looked at her stupid wheeled suitcase. How the hell was she going to drag it through all that?
She fumbled for her purse. Could you carry my case for me?
He laughed, but there was a flash of sympathy in his pale eyes. Sorry, love, Ive got another fare in the village.
And then he was gone. She stared at the taxi as it drove into the distance, its wheels kicking up wet spray from the road.
Shivering in the cold, she walked across to the footpath. As she trudged through the mud, half-pulling, half-carrying her case, she thought about the bottle of vodka shed bought at the airport. A nice vodka and Coke: that would be her reward when she got to the house. If she ever did.
At the end of the first field, she stopped under the shelter of a tree for a breather. It couldnt be far from here. She dumped her case on the floor and pulled out her phone to call up a map. One bar of signal. Her finger hovered over the Facebook icon on her screen. This was exactly what she had told herself not to do on her holiday. Why she had turned off all her notifications and promised herself to stay away from social media. But after a moment, she opened the app and sat down on her case with a sigh. Just one final look.
She deleted two friend requests from random guys she vaguely remembered chatting to in a bar. Then felt the familiar stab of pain as she navigated her way to Bens wall. Before she could stop herself, shed clicked on his profile pictures, scrolled through his albums. She knew them all in perfect detail.