Page 142 of Take Me Away

‘Mais.’ I catch her hand. ‘We’re going to London. Not the moon.’

‘But what if she needs convincing? We should bring stuff to remind her why Sea Salt Bay is home!’

I hold my hand up. The plan dissolving before it’s really formed. ‘Wait.’

Maisie’s face falls. ‘What?’

I shake my head, mainly at my own stupidity. ‘I have no idea where she’ll be in London. Do you know how many millions of people live in that city?’

Maisie is giving me the look her mother often used to give me too. Like sometimes I was perhaps a little too slow, but she loved me for it anyway.

‘Piper will know.’

I rub at my jaw. ‘And how do you expect me to contact Piper?’

Now Maisie is really looking at me like I’m dumb. ‘Nina will know.’

‘Nina?’ My head is officially pounding. ‘What?’

Maisie’s smile is angelic. ‘Listening to the grown-ups talk is fun. Especially when they think no one else is listening in.’ Damn it, I knew that’s what she was doing in the café every afternoon. ‘Piper gave her number to Nina, and said to call if Isla needed help. She was really worried about her. I think she loves Isla as much as we do.’

I reach for my clever, clever girl and give her a massive squeeze. ‘You’re brilliant. Scary, sneaky as hell, but bloody brilliant.’

‘I know.’ And then she’s already gone, thundering down the hallway to her room.

I sit there for another moment, phone still in my hand, looking at the white walls I was going to paint green.

Fuck it.

When we bring her back, we’ll paint them together.

All three of us.

I stand up. Grab my jacket. Find my keys.

Then I go pack a bag and prepare to do the thing I should have done ten years ago.

Chase her.

Chapter Thirty-Three

ISLA

‘You’ve got to get out of this bed.’ Piper is in the doorway to the bedroom, razor sharp in a Valentino navy blazer and VB jeans.

I’m crusty and staring at the ceiling, although there are no continents to watch shrink on this ceiling, only perfect plasterwork and Farrow and Ball paint. ‘I can’t.’

‘You can. It’s simple. Cover back, legs over the side, and the final step is upright.’

I position my bent arm across my face, shielding my eyes. With my other hand, I wave her away.

‘Jemima Collins rang. She wanted to see if you are okay.’

My stomach lurches. ‘Does she hate me too? Think I’m a liar?’

Piper’s jeans make a whooshing noise as she marches closer to the bed. She toes me with her shoe, a jab on the shin. ‘No one thinks you’re a liar.’

‘Tell that to all the Daily Mail readers.’ There’s a rolling in my gut which makes my skin prickle with sweat. ‘And everyone who has ever had a conversation with me, who’s now seen my boobs.’