Page 4 of Will You Stay Another Day?
Lili smiled as she waved Meg off. Em never had much of a filter either.
Having locked up, Lili crossed the small car park at the back of the building. Once in the driving seat, she took out her keys, but couldn’t wait a minute longer. All day she’d been going over what to type, listening to her heart, which had done its best to silence her head, editing down all the news she had, all the questions. In the end it came down to six simple words, with an exclamation mark added to emphasise her happiness… or was it to soften anger, or disbelief?
Where the fuck have you been?!
She paused before continuing to write.
I’ve missed you.
Lili added a turtle emoji and pressed send. Mouth dry, she turned the key and gripped the steering wheel. The Saturday drive home from Mevagissey to Truro was never as bad as during the week, with the rush hour. Twenty minutes later, she turned into her drive and parked up. She peeked at her phone. No reply yet. Lili opened the front door and stepped inside the cottage, with its golden walls and mahogany ceiling beams, with the cosy lounge on the left and the farmhouse kitchen opposite. The place felt like home, even though it was rented and they’d not been allowed to redecorate. The property owner was a friendly sort. The cottage had used to belong to her grandfather and she’d drop in every six months to check up on things. One day Lili hoped to buy a place like this. She’d put money aside in recent years and then Em had left Lili her savings. She’d felt awkward and discussed it with Colin and Shirl, but they’d insisted it was what their daughter had wanted.
Good thing Lili hadn’t spent any of the money, if Em was alive. She might have to give it back.
Lili exhaled, went into the lounge and dropped onto the chintz sofa, which wasn’t to her taste when she’d first moved in. However, she’d grown to appreciate its cheeriness this last year. A pile of books sat on the low coffee table. Lili loved stories that reflected nature, and a series of novels about penguins were a current favourite. Em had read mostly on her phone, scrolling through Instagram and laughing at reels.
Her phone flashed and Lili picked it up.
I’ve been travelling like you. Next stop Switzerland.
Oh my God! Oh my God! Em had put the green nauseated face emoji after the word travelling! It was part of the private joke they had, to do with the turtle one.
But wait… what…? Travelling?
Christ on a bike, or a ferry too, or hovercraft, plane, speedboat, coach!
Of course, that made sense, Em going off around the world, wanting to get away. She read the text again. Like you. What did that mean? Lili had recently forced herself to get away. She’d gone on a four-day trip to London, booked an Airbnb and caught a West End Show, shopped in Covent Garden and ridden the London Eye. She got up and went to the curtains, looking out, up and down the road. Was Em back in England and spying on her?
But how could Em even travel abroad now? Had her parents forgotten to cancel her passport? Em’s mum, ever organised, never forgot a thing, not even in her grief. The funeral couldn’t have run more smoothly. And Switzerland? Em had always said that country was conservative and boring and that she’d only ever go for the chocolate.
The two of them needed to speak.
Lili typed back, requesting a call, and gave a little jig. But hours later, as she sat in the lounge, foot tapping, pretending to read a book, there was still no reply.
Something didn’t feel right.
And something stopped her from pressing dial.
Maybe someone else had ended up with Em’s number, despite her phone company’s policy. But no, that would be unethical. The company could get into trouble for that. And it wouldn’t explain the green-faced emoji. Lili fetched her laptop from her bedroom and researched until late before picking up a notebook. Surprised with the possibilities she’d discovered to explain the texts, Lili scribbled. She sat back and re-read the list. Four concrete possibilities.
A car backfired outside and she jumped. What was she doing? This was all so stupid. With a tut she tore out the page, screwed it up and tossed it onto the coffee table before heading upstairs. Under the duvet, Lili determined not to think about Em. Instead she mentally ran through the ceremony she’d be holding tomorrow afternoon in her cottage. These ceremonies always took place on a Sunday and people only heard about them by word of mouth.
As she finally closed her eyes, downstairs a ray of moonlight snuck through the lounge curtains. It lit up the title and the list that Lili had written on the uncurled notebook page:
Is Em Really Alive?
Yes. The texts are from her. Em ran away. Maybe she was in some kind of trouble or so depressed she needed time out.
Kind of – a medium is passing on messages from Em’s spirit.
No, another person somehow has Em’s phone and knew to skip the punchline of that joke and send the green-faced emoji. Have I met them before? Why would they pretend to be Em?
No. There are companies that send pre-programmed texts to loved ones of the deceased. The messages would have been written before her death and programmed to instigate a conversation with certain phone numbers. They can be triggered by location or a date. It might have been possible for Em to have programmed in responses to our favourite jokes. Have her parents received pre-programmed texts too?
But if it is number four, had Em known she was going to die?
3
Lili got up early the next day, pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, grabbed a jumper and drove to Mevagissey. She bought a takeaway latte and croissant and walked up, through the village, to the coastal path, leaving the gift shops, the fishermen and dog walkers behind – a route she always took if life ever dealt out a low card. Today was unusual because she was treading that ground after being dealt the highest card possible: the chance that Em had aced it by making contact.
