Page 36 of Autumn at the Willow River Guesthouse
Moving Outside
The thumping hangover that greeted Lily the next morning at first was enough to make her forget about the mysterious message. Then, as she sat eating breakfast with her dad—her mum having long before headed out to the shop—she opened up her laptop for a casual browse and remembered.
Michael Borton … Victoria’s son. She had found the little boy in the photograph. But what to do now?
‘Any job offers?’ Pete asked.
Lily smiled. ‘None yet.’
‘Well, you’d better get a move on or you’ll be late,’ Pete said, finishing his cornflakes and standing up.
‘I’m just on my way,’ Lily said, peering at the screen.
‘Has Steve got in touch again?’
Lily shook her head. ‘No, someone far more interesting.’
Pete chuckled. ‘Well, good luck with it. Hotdog Pete is out of here.’ Lily cringed, but Pete laughed again. ‘See you later, sweetheart. Have a good day.’
It took a couple of paracetamol to improve things, but Lily was feeling a lot better by the time she got to the guesthouse, just in time to start making breakfast for the guests. Luckily, the large group had departed, and only a pair of couples remained. Even so, the smell of the eggs and bacon made Lily feel a little queasy. By the time she headed out with Victoria’s breakfast, she couldn’t bear to be inside.
The bike ride didn’t help, but it was a fine day with a few wisps of cloud in the sky. Lily parked her bike outside the annexe, but just as she was about to go inside, she had an idea.
How long had it been since Victoria had been outside?
Thinking quickly, Lily went around to the annexe’s rear, to the patch of grass crying out to be turned into a picnic area and playground. The picnic tables around the front were too heavy to move on her own, so she went inside, rooting around on the bottom floor until she found a store cupboard with a fold-out table and a couple of deckchairs inside. Then, taking them around the back, she set them up on the grass underneath Victoria’s window.
Setting the hamper down, she went upstairs. The DO NOT DISTURB sign had gone. Lily gave a light knock, and a moment later the door swung open.
Victoria looked almost normal in jeans and a thick grey roll-neck sweater. Only the pink sunglasses propped up in her hair were out of place.
‘Ah, good morning,’ Lily said.
‘Penelope, there you are. You’re five minutes late, but we won’t worry about that.’
‘I’m afraid I’ve pulled a muscle in my shoulder,’ Lily said, not bothering to correct Victoria, but instead giving her shoulder a dramatic rub and wincing to add effect. ‘I couldn’t bring the hamper up the stairs this morning, but it’s a lovely day, so I’ve set you up a table outside.’
Victoria’s face dropped. She stared at Lily as though she’d just been told her dog had died.
‘What?’
‘It’s … ah … outside.’
‘Outside?’
‘Yes. Outside.’
‘I can’t go outside.’ Victoria frowned. ‘I don’t … know the way.’
Her voice had taken on such a childlike fragility that Lily suddenly felt sorry for her. By all accounts the millions she had made from her books and the movie version of A Trainspotter’s Guide to Romance couldn’t help her with one simple thing: overcoming her social anxiety.
Lily put out a hand. ‘I can help you,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, there’s no one around.’
Victoria frowned again. For a moment Lily thought she was going to step back inside and slam the door. Then, she reached out a tentative hand and put it on Lily’s shoulder.
‘I haven’t been outside in … years,’ she said.
‘It hasn’t changed much,’ Lily said. ‘Well, the grass is a bit longer. I keep telling Uncle Gus to come up and cut it.’
