The Telephone Box Library by Rachael Lucas

Author:Rachael Lucas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan

Chapter Thirteen

‘I really appreciate this, Will.’

‘No problem.’ The young lad pushed back his hair for the fifteenth time that morning. Sam couldn’t help thinking that if it was that much trouble, he’d be better off cutting it short instead of having it flopping in his face all the time. He grinned to himself ruefully. He sounded like a parent. An old one, at that.

They hauled the last of the bags of solidified cement mix onto the back of the truck.

‘Freya, you going to be okay for half an hour while we take these to the tip?’

There was a vague grunting noise from the grass where she lay sprawled out, headphone in one ear, a hat over her face. She claimed she was sunbathing – the weather had been ridiculously warm for the last couple of weeks – and he had to admit, at least she wasn’t lurking inside for a change. But she was definitely a bit – off. Secretive. He’d thought perhaps he was being paranoid after the first time she’d snapped the phone off, but he’d been observing her over the last week or so and something was definitely up. She’d stopped reading, and was on the computer all the time. And for the first time ever, she had declined to walk to the shop with him for their customary after-dinner ice cream. Perhaps he’d have a word with Mel, see if Camille had said anything? But he didn’t like the idea of sneaking around behind Freya’s back. They’d always had such an open relationship, and that sort of behaviour made him think of her mother.

He lifted her hat and she opened her eyes, staring up at him.

‘Back in half an hour. Ring me, but Mel’s in, okay?’

‘I’m fourteen, Dad, not four. I’m perfectly fine here. What d’you think’s going to happen to me in the village where nothing ever happens?’ She pulled the hat back over her face.

He sighed. What was it Ned Stark said in Game of Thrones? War was easier than daughters. He wasn’t bloody joking. He climbed into the front of the truck and started the engine.

As he was driving away he saw Mel walking two of her charges, a fluffy Pomeranian – which looked ridiculous on the end of the leash, like she was taking a pom-pom for a walk – and a sturdy, stumpy-legged basset hound. She gave him a wave, and out of the passenger window he saw her pausing to knock on the door of Lucy’s cottage. It was nice that they’d become friends. Mel desperately missed her best friend since she’d emigrated, and Lucy was – well, Lucy was lovely.

Just before he turned the corner at the end of Main Street, he pulled up to let a delivery van out at the junction. He caught a glimpse of the two of them in his rear-view mirror. Lucy’s long dark hair was tied up in a swinging ponytail and she was in a blue-and-white striped top. He could picture her freckled nose, and the way she wrinkled it when she laughed.

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