Lisa Hall - Tell Me No Lies

‘Lila! God, you must be freezing. Come in.’ I stand to one side of the front door to let her squeeze in, her bulky winter coat making her face seem like that of a petite china doll, peering out from underneath her fur hood.

‘It is freezing out there; there’s definitely snow on the way.’ She grins at me, pushing back her hood with one hand, her other hand clutching on to what appears to be a black sack filled with something oddly shaped.

‘How are you feeling now?’ Lila follows me through into the cosy living room, hanging her coat on the stair banister as she passes. I have lit the open fire that sits in the centre of the room, and Lila stands to warm her hands in front of it, the smell of coal and the pine cones I chucked onto the open flames filling the room.

‘Oh, better.’ I smile. I shed a few – OK, a lot – of tears after my phone call with Mark, the thought of the next few weeks alone almost too much to bear, what with finding work, although I know Belinda will help where she can, making sure Henry is settling in OK at school and, obviously, the seemingly never-ending rounds of morning sickness. That, and spending my evenings alone, in the dark, without Mark there. It doesn’t matter how many times he goes away; it never gets any easier. ‘It just sneaks up on me a bit at times. It turns out that morning sickness is not just confined to mornings.’ I don’t elaborate any further, not wanting to discuss Mark’s imminent departure or to delve into the deeper side of how I am feeling about this pregnancy, the nervousness I feel about what happens next, once the baby is born. How I don’t want a repeat of what happened when I had Henry.

‘Well, I’m pleased you’re feeling a bit better. I was a bit worried about you earlier, you looked so peaky,’ Lila says, leaning forward to squeeze both my hands. ‘I have a little something for you and Henry, something I hope you’re going to like.’ She reaches down by her feet to the large black sack I noticed her carrying earlier. ‘I made it myself, from the plants I have growing in my garden. Anything else that I didn’t have growing I went out and picked. It’s unique, made just for you and there’s not another one like it in the world.’ She is like a small child, her enthusiasm glowing across her face and her dark hair shining in the glow of the firelight. I can’t help it – her eagerness is infectious, and I lean forward, suddenly desperate to see what is in the sack. A broad grin sweeps across Lila’s face and I find myself mirroring it back to her as she slowly withdraws a hand-made Christmas wreath from the sack. It is exquisite, a perfectly woven circle of moss, holly, ivy and mistletoe, with a few winter flowers peeping out here and there to give it some extra colour. It is absolutely perfect. Tears spring to my eyes as I hold my hands out for it and Lila lays it gently in my palms.

‘Oh, Lila. It's gorgeous – and you made it all yourself? You are clever. It’s beautiful and Henry is going to be so pleased when he sees it.’ I turn it over in my hands, spotting more flowers tucked in underneath. It really is a work of art.

‘Oh, don’t be silly. It’s nothing, just a little something I knocked up.’ Lila smiles at me bashfully, a faint blush staining her cheeks.

‘It’s not nothing – it’s gorgeous. You should sell these; you could make a fortune.’

‘No. No, I don’t want to sell them. I just thought… well, I knew you weren’t feeling too great. It’s just a little something; call it a welcome-to-the-neighbourhood gift. This is the first one I’ve made this year.’ She leans over to tuck in a stray piece of wayward mistletoe. Her words make me smile, and the way she is so enthusiastic about things reminds me a little of Tessa.

‘Well, I’m touched, Lila. I really am. This is a really lovely gift; it’s so thoughtful of you.’ I lean forward, surprising myself as I give her a small peck on the cheek. Not a Steph thing to do at all, but maybe I am learning to open up to others; maybe I am making an effort to make new friends. I resolve to make sure I note this feeling in my diary later; the warm feeling that comes from a budding new friendship. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten what it felt like, to let someone new in, to start trusting again.

‘I just thought maybe you needed a bit of cheering up, that’s all,’ Lila says, sitting back on her heels where she is perched on the floor in front of the fire. ‘You looked really miserable when you came home earlier, and I thought maybe the morning sickness was getting to you a little bit.’ She is bashful, looking down at her hands, and I lean over and give one a quick squeeze.

‘I’m fine, honestly, but I do appreciate the sentiment. I was feeling a bit miserable earlier, you’re right, but you already left me something to cheer me up. I got your little posy and the note when Henry came home. It was a lovely thought, thank you.’

Lila cocks her head at me quizzically, as if I have said something that makes no sense to her whatsoever.

‘What do you mean, Steph? What posy?’

I laugh a little nervously, and stand to walk through into the kitchen where I have left the small posy of flowers in a vase on the windowsill, still tied together with raffia, the note tied to one side.

‘These.’ I put the posy down on the coffee table in front of where Lila sits. ‘They were on the doorstep when my mum brought Henry home from her house. The note says “a little something from my garden to cheer you up”. I just assumed it was from you as I had seen you in the garden when I came home.’ I look down at the innocent-looking flowers, laid in the small circle of water that has dripped from their stems, a cold shiver beginning to prickle at the base of my spine. Lila inspects the posy before she turns to me, a serious look crossing her perfect features.

‘Sorry, Steph. They’re not from me. I was out in the garden when you came home, collecting holly and ivy for the wreath I made you. I’ve never seen these flowers before in my life.’

CHAPTER SIX

The thought of the small posy of flowers weighs heavy on my mind all the next day, or rather the idea of someone who isn’t Lila leaving gifts on the porch while I was sleeping does. After reassuring Lila what felt like a hundred times that I was OK, that the idea of someone sneaking on to my porch while I was asleep and leaving a present for me did not creep me out in the slightest, she left, promising she would keep an eye out to see if anything else was left.

‘Honestly, Lila, it’s fine. I promise I’m not concerned about it in the slightest. It’s just odd, that’s all, that I saw you, then when I woke up the posy was on the doorstep and I just immediately assumed you had left it for me.’ I brush her concern away as best that I can, although inside my mind is racing, fearful that the one person I don’t want to find me has found me.

‘Well, I kind of wish I had now. At least then you wouldn’t need to be worried.’ Biting her lip, Lila tries to smile at me, as she stands on the doorstep to go home. ‘I’ll keep a look-out, OK? You don’t need to worry about anything, especially if Mark’s not here.’

Despite her reassurances, though, the posy sneaks into my mind on and off all day. Is it not just a little bit weird? That whoever left it didn’t sign their name? Could it be him ? Is it Melissa, trying to freak me out? I scribble a quick note in my diary, just a few sentences documenting how I feel about it, how uneasy the idea of it has made me, in the hope that if I write it down it might get it out of my system a little bit.

Mark gets home before six, a hugely unexpected surprise despite his reassurances last night that he would be home in time for dinner. I am trying to wedge a huge black sack of rubbish into the outside bin when he parks alongside the kerb, giving the horn a little toot. I smile as he gets out of the car and immediately drops his bag on the pavement to help squash the black sack into the bin.