Tell Me No Lies. Lisa Hall

cocks her head at me quizzically, as if I have said something that makes no sense to her whatsoever.

      ‘What do you mean, Steph? What posy?’

      I laugh a little nervously, and stand to walk through into the kitchen where I have left the small posy of flowers in a vase on the windowsill, still tied together with raffia, the note tied to one side.

      ‘These.’ I put the posy down on the coffee table in front of where Lila sits. ‘They were on the doorstep when my mum brought Henry home from her house. The note says “a little something from my garden to cheer you up”. I just assumed it was from you as I had seen you in the garden when I came home.’ I look down at the innocent-looking flowers, laid in the small circle of water that has dripped from their stems, a cold shiver beginning to prickle at the base of my spine. Lila inspects the posy before she turns to me, a serious look crossing her perfect features.

      ‘Sorry, Steph. They’re not from me. I was out in the garden when you came home, collecting holly and ivy for the wreath I made you. I’ve never seen these flowers before in my life.’

CHAPTER SIX

      The thought of the small posy of flowers weighs heavy on my mind all the next day, or rather the idea of someone who isn’t Lila leaving gifts on the porch while I was sleeping does. After reassuring Lila what felt like a hundred times that I was OK, that the idea of someone sneaking on to my porch while I was asleep and leaving a present for me did not creep me out in the slightest, she left, promising she would keep an eye out to see if anything else was left.

      ‘Honestly, Lila, it’s fine. I promise I’m not concerned about it in the slightest. It’s just odd, that’s all, that I saw you, then when I woke up the posy was on the doorstep and I just immediately assumed you had left it for me.’ I brush her concern away as best that I can, although inside my mind is racing, fearful that the one person I don’t want to find me has found me.

      ‘Well, I kind of wish I had now. At least then you wouldn’t need to be worried.’ Biting her lip, Lila tries to smile at me, as she stands on the doorstep to go home. ‘I’ll keep a look-out, OK? You don’t need to worry about anything, especially if Mark’s not here.’

      Despite her reassurances, though, the posy sneaks into my mind on and off all day. Is it not just a little bit weird? That whoever left it didn’t sign their name? Could it be him? Is it Melissa, trying to freak me out? I scribble a quick note in my diary, just a few sentences documenting how I feel about it, how uneasy the idea of it has made me, in the hope that if I write it down it might get it out of my system a little bit.

      Mark gets home before six, a hugely unexpected surprise despite his reassurances last night that he would be home in time for dinner. I am trying to wedge a huge black sack of rubbish into the outside bin when he parks alongside the kerb, giving the horn a little toot. I smile as he gets out of the car and immediately drops his bag on the pavement to help squash the black sack into the bin.

      ‘Thank you.’ I kiss him. ‘You’re my knight in shining armour.’

      His brow creases and he looks apologetic.

      ‘You might think that now, but not for long. I booked us a table at that swanky pub on the other side of the Heath tonight as a surprise, but my sister can’t babysit now. Jacob’s got chickenpox. It was meant to be a surprise. I’m sorry, Steph. I wanted us to have a really nice last evening together to make up for my leaving early, but it looks like I’ve cocked it up again.’

      He looks so disappointed. I reach for his hand to tell him it doesn’t matter when a voice calls, ‘Steph? How are you feeling?’ Lila appears from the other side of the hedge that shields one side of our front garden from the road. ‘Hello, Mark – nice to see you.’ She flashes a quick smile at him and leans over to peck me on the cheek.

      ‘I’m fine, feeling much better actually.’ I smile at her, and hope that she won’t mention the posy before I have a chance to speak to Mark myself. ‘Mark was just saying he’d booked us a meal out tonight, but the babysitter has cancelled. It’s his last night before he leaves for Paraguay,’ I explain.

      ‘Well, don’t miss out on an evening together for the sake of a babysitter! Why don’t I sit with Henry for you? It’ll only be for a few hours, won’t it? You two should spend your last evening together, go and have a good time. Honestly. I don’t mind.’

      ‘What about Henry?’ I ask, a frown creasing my brow. ‘I mean, I’m grateful for the offer, Lila, but Henry doesn’t know you that well. And he’ll want to see Mark.’ I know he wants to spend Mark’s last evening with him as well. He’s sensitive, and every time Mark goes away it disrupts his routine for days on end. It’s always much easier if we have all spent the last evening together.

      ‘We’ll stay home and put him to bed together like usual, then we can go out for dinner on our own, just the two of us.’ Mark snakes an arm around my waist and smiles at Lila. ‘Thank you, Lila, we really do appreciate the offer. Steph, don’t worry, Henry will be fine – we’ll make sure he’s settled before we leave. Come on, let Lila and I do this one thing for you.’

      Lila nods at me, and that’s it. Settled.

      Mark is so pleased with himself for arranging tonight; I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t really want to go. I know if I make excuses about not knowing Lila that well, or that I’m tired and would rather stay home, he’ll start thinking I’m slipping back into the way I was before, when everything was an effort, and it was easier to let the black clouds blanket me from the outside world. I make my way upstairs, feeling crappy about getting so irritated with him. He’s tried his hardest to sort out a lovely evening out, even booking a table and sorting the babysitting out with Lila – normally the things that I have to arrange – so why don’t I feel more grateful? Because he’s only done it because he’s leaving us for weeks at a time? Because he asked Lila, someone who Henry really doesn’t know that well, instead of just letting us have an evening at home? Because he cheated on me and broke my heart, and try as I might I just can’t seem to get over it? I sigh, mentally kicking myself for being such a bitch and stand for a long time under a hot shower, trying to wash away my blues.

      Henry is settled, Lila arrives on time and so does our cab. Before I know it we are sitting opposite each other in a restaurant that tries to model itself as a homely, English pub, but instead of dishing up the more traditional plates of fish and chips or pie and mash, it serves everything on wooden boards or pieces of slate, chips balanced up like a greasy, dripping tower. I have resolved, while I was getting ready, not to mention the posy of flowers to Mark, worried he’ll think I’m being paranoid, but now, sitting here in the cosy pub, firelight glowing and filling the room with warm orange light, I decide I don’t want to keep it a secret from him. I don’t want him to leave for weeks with a secret between us, however small and insignificant it might end up being.

      ‘Mark … yesterday someone left something on the doorstep.’ I watch him carefully, to see how he reacts. I’m always conscious that he does have a tendency to think I jump to the wrong conclusion all the time, especially as he knows my history. He spears a forkful of salad before replying.

      ‘Something? Like what?’

      ‘Well, flowers. With a little note.’

      ‘That’s nice. Who were they from? They weren’t from me, I’m afraid, babe. You know flowers aren’t really my thing. I’d buy you something far more exciting than a bunch of flowers. Sorry, I’m starving.’ He shovels the forkful of food into his mouth and I have to turn my face away for just a second.

      ‘That’s the thing. I don’t know who they were from. I assumed they were from Lila, but she said she’d never seen them before in her life.’ His eyes meet mine across the table and he gently lays his fork down.

      ‘Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer?’ He takes my hand in his large, warm one. ‘Are you worried about it, Steph? Is that it?’

      I