Page 54 of Serenity Falls

Sadie watches her. ‘Princes aren’t really my thing.’

‘Right …’ A pause. ‘Me neither.’

Interesting. ‘I’m going to redecorate when I get a chance.’

Ellis looks around. ‘It’s huge, though. Way bigger than my room.’

‘It’s bigger than our whole house back home,’ Sadie says.

‘In the UK?’

‘Yeah.’

The size makes her small stack of boxes look even more pathetic. In fact, everything about this house and Serenity just reinforces how unsuited Dad and her are to living here. They’re not tanned, wholesome Americans. They’re pale, cynical Brits. The two just don’t go.

‘You miss it?’ Ellis asks.

‘Yes … but also no.’ Sadie flops on to the bed. ‘There were lots of things I hated at home. Lots of times I’d rather have lived somewhere else. I’m just not sure I’d have chosen here.’

‘Well, pity those of us who didn’t have a choice.’

‘You don’t love living in the perfect town?’

Ellis shakes her head. ‘Perfection isn’t always so perfect, believe me.’ She takes a step forward and almost trips over Zelda’s box, which is poking out from under the bed. ‘Shit. Sorry.’

Sadie leaps up and grabs the box. ‘It’s okay.’

Even though it kind of isn’t.

‘It’s not breakable, is it?’

Sadie rests the box on her lap. ‘No, not really. It’s just my cat.’

‘Your cat?’ Ellis frowns. ‘Your cat is pretty quiet.’

‘I should hope so. She’s dead.’

‘You keep your dead cat in a box?’

‘Yeah, well, she’s a skeleton. Not like a decaying corpse.’

‘Oh, well, that’s okay, then.’

‘Want to see?’

Ellis holds up a hand. ‘No. I’m good, thanks.’

Sadie grins, enjoying her discomfort.

Ellis stares at her. ‘You know, you are … seriously, I mean, seriously freaky.’

‘Thanks.’ Sadie puts the box to one side and grabs a vintage flowered sundress from the pile of clothes on her bed. ‘Keep an eye on my cat.’ She stands and heads for the en suite. ‘She doesn’t bite … well, not any more.’

The Downtown Diner looks like it jived straight out of a 1950s movie set. Pure theme-park pastiche. It’s set on the corner of the street and curves around in pastel hues of turquoise and bubble-gum pink, with silver edging around the windows, doors and roof. Lights at either corner of the building create the impression of a car bumper. A sign outside shows a picture of a rosy-cheeked waitress holding up a plate of burger and fries, grinning cheerily. Beneath the picture is another sign: ‘Welcome. No cell phones.’

‘No phones,’ Sadie says. ‘They really are going hard on the retro vibe.’

Ellis glances at the sign. ‘Oh, that’s not just here. Cell phones are banned in public spaces.’