The Sea Sisters: Gripping - a twist filled thriller. Lucy Clarke

      ‘I’ll be living the trip vicariously from all the emails Mia will be sending.’

      Mia smiled. ‘Hint duly noted.’

      An airport vehicle towing a row of luggage trolleys beeped as it rolled towards them, causing the three of them to bunch together.

      ‘So how are things?’ Finn asked Katie. ‘It’s been a while.’

      ‘Yes, it has. Everything is fine, thank you. Work’s busy. But good. And you? How are you?’

      ‘Feeling pretty pleased about having a year off.’

      ‘You both must be. It’s California first?’

      ‘Yes, for a few weeks of coast-side cruising, and then on to Australia.’

      ‘Sounds wonderful. I’m incredibly jealous.’

      Is she? Mia wondered. Would she want this: wearing her life on her back and moving from place to place with no plans?

      ‘Right,’ Katie said, taking the car keys from her handbag. ‘I best get going.’ She glanced at Finn, her face turning serious. ‘You will look after her, won’t you?’

      ‘You know that’s like asking a goldfish to babysit a piranha.’

      Her features softened a little. ‘Just bring her back safely.’

      ‘I promise.’ He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Take care.’

      She nodded quickly, pressing her lips together. ‘You’ll call?’ she said to Mia. ‘You’ve got your mobile?’

      ‘I’m not taking it.’ Then, seeing Katie’s expression, she added, ‘It’s too expensive abroad.’ But cost wasn’t the real reason: Mia didn’t want to be contactable.

      ‘I’ve got mine if you need us,’ Finn said. ‘You’ve got my number still?’

      ‘Yes. Yes, I think so.’

      There was a brief silence between them all. Mia wondered what Katie would do with the rest of her day. Catch up with a friend over coffee? Go to the gym? Meet Ed for lunch? She realized she had no idea how her sister spent her time.

      ‘Can you let me know when you’ve arrived?’

      ‘Sure,’ Mia replied, with a shrug she hadn’t intended. She wanted to tell Katie that she loved her, or say how much she’d miss her, but somehow she couldn’t find the words. It had always been that way for her. Instead, she lifted a hand in wave, then turned and left with Finn.

      *

      Pressing her nose against the window, she watched London disappearing beneath the white wings of the plane. They rose through a layer of cloud and suddenly the view was swallowed. She sank back in her seat, her heart rate gradually slowing. She had left.

      On her lap rested her travel journal. She’d bought it at Camden Market from a stall that sold weathervanes, maps and antique pocket watches. She’d been drawn to the sea-blue fabric that bound the cover and the thick cream pages that smelt like promises.

      She opened it, clicked her pen against her collarbone, and wrote her first two lines.

       People go travelling for two reasons: because they are searching for something, or because they are running from something. For me, it’s both.

      She tucked the journal into the seat pocket alongside the laminated flight-safety procedures, and then closed her eyes.

      *

      As the plane descended over the Sierra Nevada range, Mia gazed at the clouds drifting below. They looked soft and inviting, and she imagined diving into them, being caught in their fleecy hold and floating with the air currents.

      ‘Not as comfy as they look,’ Finn said, as if reading her mind.

      Finn Adam Tyler was her best friend and had been since they’d met aged 11 on the school bus. Four weeks ago she’d called him at work to tell him she was going travelling. She was sitting on the kitchen worktop, her heels dangling against the fridge door. When he answered, she said only, ‘I’ve got a plan.’

      ‘What do I need?’ he’d replied, a throwback to their teenage years when a plan, if conceived by one of them, had to be adhered to by the other.

      She grinned. ‘Your passport, a resignation letter, a backpack and a typhoid jab.’

      There was a pause. Then, ‘Mia, what have you done?’

      ‘Reserved two round-the-world tickets: America, Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, Samoa, Vietnam and Cambodia. The flights leave in four weeks. You coming?’

      There was silence. It had hung between them long enough for her to wonder whether her impulsiveness had been a mistake, whether he’d say of course he couldn’t just up and leave his job.

      ‘So this typhoid jab,’ he’d said eventually, ‘is it in the arm or the arse?’

      She looked at Finn now: his knees were pushed against the seat in front, a newspaper spread on his lap. The mousey curls of the schoolboy she’d known had now been cut short and rough stubble shadowed his chin.

      At the end of their row a voluptuous woman with dangling gold earrings unclipped her seat belt and stepped into the aisle. She moved towards the toilets, gripping the backs of headrests for balance. Mia turned to Finn. ‘I need to talk to you.’

      ‘If it’s about that last meal, I swear, I thought you wouldn’t want to be disturbed.’

      She smiled. ‘It’s something important.’

      Finn folded the newspaper over and gave her his full attention.

      A few rows in front the faint grizzling of a toddler started up.

      Mia tucked her hands beneath her thighs. ‘This may sound odd,’ she began uncertainly, ‘but after I booked our tickets, I realized that there was another place I needed to visit on this trip.’ She should have talked to Finn about it sooner, only she was afraid to voice the idea in case she set in motion something she wasn’t ready for. Sometimes she wasn’t aware that an idea was brewing until it suddenly popped into her mind and she acted upon it. ‘I’ve booked us an extra stop.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘After San Francisco, we’ve got a flight to Maui.’

      ‘Maui?’ He looked blank. ‘Why?’

      ‘It’s where Mick lives.’

      She waited a beat for him to place the name. It had been a long time since he’d heard it.

      ‘Your dad?’

      She nodded.

      The grizzling child had found its stride and a captive audience; the crying grew louder and something was tossed into the aisle.

      Finn was staring at her. ‘You haven’t talked about him in years. You want to see him?’

      ‘I think so. Yes.’

      ‘Has he … have you been in contact?’

      She shook her head. ‘No. Neither of us.’ Mick had left when she and Katie were young children, leaving their mother to bring up her two daughters alone.

      ‘I don’t understand. Why now?’

      It was a fair question, but one she wasn’t sure how to answer just yet. She shrugged. Ahead, she heard a taut whisper from the toddler’s parent: ‘That. Is. Enough.’

      Finn ran the knuckle of his thumb under his chin, a habitual gesture when something was worrying him. ‘What does Katie think?’

      ‘I haven’t told her.’

      She