Page 47 of Dead to Me

He pulled it out, and out tumbled another handful of memories with it.Memories of Anna laughing over a video.Anna saying, ‘Just a second.’Anna frowning as she read with concentration.

This phone had so often been the focus of Anna’s attention as she thought of something to look up or as she read something out to him.Or equally when she lost herself in what she liked to call ‘side-quests’ but which were really just a series of distractions.

Seaton hadn’t known the code, but surely Reid should be able to work it out.He’d spent so much time with her.He’d understood her… or thought he had.

He sat holding the phone as the train moved out into open countryside.He watched occasional reflections play across it as he tried to get into her head.It was creeping towards evening now, the sun low and mellow.

He remembered catching sight of Anna punching her code in while she’d been curled up against him on his sofa.He’d asked with a laugh if she’d actually, genuinely, set her passcode to 1111.

‘I have not!’she said.And then, after a pause, said, ‘It’s just notthatfar off.In an emergency, I want to be able to get into it quickly even if my face isn’t available.’

He’d shaken his head at her.‘I don’t even know what that means.’

‘I might not be able to use face ID sometimes,’ she’d explained.‘What if someone’s gagged me?Or what if I have a prosthetic on for a job?What if my hands are tied behind my back and I can only get the phone out but not see it?’

He’d found it impossible not to grin at her half-earnest, half-laughing reply.‘So you think you could do it behind your back?’

‘Uhhhh, like, without question,’ she said.‘I’vepractisedit.’

And she’d sat up fully, leaned forwards with the phone behind her, and performed a few manoeuvres with her thumbs and one finger.

‘See?’she asked, holding it up to him, triumphantly.‘And look, I’ve even worked out how to get it out of my pocket if my hands are tied or cuffed behind me.’

She stuffed the phone into her jeans pocket and then repeated the manoeuvre with her hands crossed over as if tied.This time she twisted to tug the phone out with her fingers, turned it expertly and then unlocked it.

Reid remembered with a flush of warmth that he’d found the whole manoeuvre both impressive and a huge turn-on.

‘What if…’ he’d said, lifting the phone gently out of her hand.‘What if your hands were tied over your head…’

He’d lifted them, crossing them back over until they were held above her.

‘Oh,’ she’d said with a flare of heat in her expression, ‘I see where this is going.’

‘It’s important research…’ he’d told her, releasing one hand to pull her closer in towards him.

He closed his eyes.This wasn’t what he was supposed to be thinking about.Not now.

Not ever.

But instead of feeling angry at himself he felt a strange sense of regret that he’d pushed all this away for so long.

God, I miss her.

It was such a simple thought, but it was one he’d been adamant he’d never let in.

It was almost as an afterthought that he realised he probably knew Anna’s code.That she wouldn’t have changed it.She still had the same battered phone in its bright, star-patterned case eighteen months on.She would have the same code, too.

He’d seen her thumb sweep up and down, and then up and down again.

He let go of the memory with a sigh and woke the phone up then typed in 4141.

It opened in a moment, and Reid suddenly, fiercely, felt like crying.

Find her,he told himself.Get it together and find her.

He started with her WhatsApps, that being her favourite method of communication.But there was nothing there in recent days except a breezy chat with Imogen from theEnsignabout a company’s tax returns.It was clearly about the other job she should have been doing, and the messages had stopped the day before the ball.

Her iMessages were even less revealing.She’d barely sent any in weeks.Most of her incoming ones were automatic notifications from her GP, gas engineers, or the people who did her eyelash extensions.

---