Lucy Clarke - The Sea Sisters

Harper

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This ebook first published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2013

Copyright © Lucy Clarke 2013

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2013

Cover photograph © Bildhuset / plainpicture • Author photograph © James Bowden

Lucy Clarke asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007481347

Ebook Edition MAY 2013 ISBN: 9780007481354

Version: 2020-11-10

For James

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1. Katie

2. Mia

3. Katie

4. Mia

5. Katie

6. Mia

7. Katie

8. Mia

9. Katie

10. Mia

11. Katie

12. Mia

13. Katie

14. Mia

15. Katie

16. Mia

17. Katie

18. Mia

19. Katie

20. Mia

21. Katie

22. Mia

23. Katie

24. Mia

25. Katie

26. Mia

27. Katie

28. Mia

29. Katie

30. Mia

31. Katie

32. Mia

33. Katie

Read on to enjoy an exclusive extract of The Castaways

Keep Reading: The Blue

A Chat with Lucy Clarke

Questions for Discussion

The W6 Book Café

Acknowledgements

About the Author

About the Publisher

Katie had been dreaming of the sea. Dark, restless water and sinuous currents drained away as she pushed herself upright on the heels of her hands. Somewhere in the flat her phone was ringing. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes. The bedside clock read 2.14 a.m.

Mia , she thought immediately, stiffening. Her sister would get the time difference wrong.

She pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed, her nightdress twisted around her waist. The air was frigid and the floorboards were like ice against the soles of her feet. She shivered as she moved through the room, her fingers spread in front of her like sensors. Reaching the door, she groped for the handle. The hinges whined as she pulled it open.

The ringing grew louder as she picked her way along the darkened hall. There was something troubling about the sound in the quiet, sleep-coated hours of the night. What time would it be in Australia? Midday, perhaps?

Her stomach stirred uneasily remembering yesterday’s terrible fight. Words had been sharpened to injure and their mother’s name had been flung down the phone line like a grenade. Afterwards, Katie was so knotted with guilt that she left work an hour early, unable to concentrate. At least now they’d have a chance to talk again and she could tell Mia how sorry she was.

She was only two steps from the phone when she realized it was no longer ringing. She hovered for a moment, a hand pressed to her forehead. Had Mia rung off? Had she dreamt it?

Then the noise came again. Not the phone after all, but the insistent buzz of the flat intercom.

She sighed, knowing it would be late-night visitors for the traders who lived upstairs. She leant towards the intercom, holding a finger to the Talk button. ‘Hello?’

‘This is the police.’

She froze, sleep burning off like sea mist on a sunny day.

‘We’d like to speak to Miss Katie Greene.’

Her pulse ticked in her throat. ‘That’s me.’

‘May we come up?’

She released the front door, thinking, What? What’s happened? She switched on the light, blinking as the hall was suddenly illuminated. Looking away from the glare she saw her bare feet, toenails polished pink, and the creased trim of her silk nightdress against her pale thighs. She wanted to fetch a dressing gown, but already the heavy tread of feet sounded up the stairway.

She opened the door and two uniformed police officers stepped into her hall.

‘Miss Katie Greene?’ asked a female officer. She had greying blonde hair and high colour in her cheeks. She stood beside a male officer young enough to be her son, who kept his gaze on the ground.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you alone?’

She nodded.

‘Are you the sister of Mia Greene?’

Her hands flew to her mouth. ‘Yes…’

‘We are very sorry to tell you that the police in Bali have informed us –’

Oh God , she began to say to herself. Oh God …

‘– that Mia Greene has been found dead. She was discovered at the bottom of a cliff in Umanuk. The police believe she fell—’

‘No! NO!’ She spun away from them, bile stinging the back of her throat. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.

‘Miss Greene?’

She wouldn’t turn. Her gaze found the noticeboard in the hallway where invites, a calendar, and the business card of a caterer were neatly pinned. At the top was a map of the world. The week before Mia left to go travelling, Katie had asked her to plot her route on it. Mia’s mouth had curled into a smile at that, yet she indulged Katie’s need for schedules and itineraries by marking a loose route that began on the west coast of America and took in Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, Samoa, Vietnam and Cambodia – an endless summer of trailing coastlines. Katie had been tracking the route from Mia’s infrequent bursts of communication, and now the silver drawing pin was stuck in Western Australia.

Staring at the map, she knew something wasn’t right. She turned back to the police. ‘Where was she found?’

‘In Umanuk,’ the female officer repeated. ‘It’s in the southern tip of Bali.’

Bali. Bali wasn’t on Mia’s route. This was a mistake! She wanted to laugh – let the relief explode from her chest. ‘Mia isn’t in Bali. She’s in Australia!’

She caught the exchange of glances between the officers. The woman stepped forwards; she had light blue eyes and wore no make-up. ‘I’m afraid Mia’s passport was stamped in Bali four weeks ago.’ Her voice was gentle, but contained a certainty that chilled Katie. ‘Miss Greene, would you like to sit down?’

Mia couldn’t be dead. She was twenty-four. Her little sister. It was inconceivable. Her thoughts swam. She could hear the cistern downstairs humming. A television was playing somewhere. Outside, a late-night reveller was singing. Singing!

‘What about Finn?’ she asked suddenly.