Page 50 of The House Swap

Frantically, she jumped out of bed, searching through the covers and then on the floor, in case it had fallen.

It was several seconds later that she spotted it on the other table closer to the window.

What the hell was it doing there?

Her heart thudded in her chest as she moved round the bed to get it and she quickly checked it was working, half afraid she would find it dead.

When the screen lit up, relief sagged out of her.

No new messages, but at least she wasn’t cut off.

She glanced around the room now looking for anything else that might have been disturbed. There was nothing.

Still, she didn’t fully relax, unable to explain how the phone had moved position.

In the living area, she checked again – no moved cushions, no broken wine bottles, and no lights on. It added to her paranoia that she was overreacting.

Was it possible that she had picked up her phone during the night while she was asleep?

It still didn’t help explain the pool lights and she stared out at the terrace now.

In daylight, it looked innocuous. The pool catching the sun and reflecting it back, dazzling, while beyond the low wall, the breathtaking sea was a flat sweep of silver blue. It looked deceptively calm from where she was standing, but she could hear the steady, insistent rush of waves and they were louder than yesterday.

Reminding herself this was a quiet and peaceful paradise, she tried to shake away her unease. It was cooler today and after showering, she dressed in joggers and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and made coffee, deciding to work inside. Sitting down at her laptop, she opened the lid. Her focus on work immediately lost when she saw the battery symbol glaring at her.

Her mouth tightened. She had plugged it in to charge before going to bed, the cable trailing from the socket beside the TV. She slid her chair back and knelt down, reaching for the lead.

It wasn’t connected.

The plug sat a few inches away from the socket, the cable coiled loosely as if someone had unplugged it and placed it there neatly, rather than yanking it out.

Poppy sat back on her heels, staring at it, as irritation sparked. It was yet another thing she didn’t have an explanation for.

Although she had already checked, she stood and looked around the room again, worried that she had missed something else. But there was nothing.

At a loss of what to do, she plugged it back in and tried to settle down to work.

By late morning, the villa had warmed enough for her to open the patio doors and let in fresh air. The breeze threading through the trees was pleasant, though it carried a cool edge that reminded her it was no longer summer.

She had been here a week today. Already halfway through her break and she was feeling increasingly unsettled rather than relaxed.

Shit. It was Saturday. Tom’s friend was getting married. After everything he had been through this last week, she should really let him know she hoped everything went well.

Realising the relevance, she snatched up her phone, quickly messaging him.

I hope you have a fab time today. Send me pics.

He replied a few moments later with a selfie of him looking dapper in a grey suit. A grin on his face. Poppy replied:

Very handsome.

She added an emoji blowing him a kiss at the end.

She made fresh coffee and tried to settle back into her manuscript, though her mind kept wandering to different things. It didn’t help that the villa was so quiet but in a way that wasn’t restful. The silence seemed to press against the walls, amplifying every tiny sound. The fridge humming, the occasional creak of the air-conditioning unit, the soft tick of the clock that hung on the kitchen wall.

She thought about Jem. The touch of his hand against her cheek and how his voice had softened when he asked if she would be okay. And Keira crept into her thoughts too. It was getting harder to ignore the quiet betrayal that her friend seemed to have abandoned her.

Poppy wanted to be understanding, and she fretted for whatever the emergency was that had caused her friend to leave so abruptly. It was the silence that had followed which she was struggling to forgive. She kept making excuses for it, telling herself that Keira was busy or overwhelmed, but the blankness felt deliberate.