A Girl to Die For: A Thriller

by Lucy Wild

  “So there’s going to be a next time?” Holly tried to keep the excitement out of her voice but she failed and she didn’t really care too much. It was hard to keep things casual when she was ridiculously happy about his suggestion.

  “Up to you. What do you think?”

  “I think maybe yes. Take a right here.”

  They turned onto a dead end street, parked cars lining both sides of the road. “How do you tell which is yours?” he asked, looking at row after row of identical terraces.”

  “I just try each door until my key works.”

  Hey, what do you know, she thought. You managed to make a joke.

  The end of the street was fast approaching, blocked off by a brick wall that separated the street from the playing field on the other side. “I’m running out of road,” he said, slowing down to a crawl.

  “Just turn round at the end there, by that alleyway. That’s what everyone does down here. Hold on, I’ll jump out now, make it easier.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. Listen, thanks for the lift, Joseph. I really appreciate it.”

  “My pleasure. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Well, good night then.” She waited for just a second to see if he might try and give her a goodnight kiss but he just looked at her, that hint of a smile once again playing on his lips. When she was certain he wasn’t going to try, she opened the door and stepped out into the last of the rain. Giving him a tiny wave, she pushed the door closed and hopped up onto the pavement, walking the few feet to her front door. By the time she got the key in the lock, he’d turned the car around and was already driving back past. He let out a little beep of his horn as he went and Holly waved after him before heading inside.

  Fiona was in the kitchen, making herself a hot chocolate. She held up a mug as Holly entered. “Only if you tell me everything,” she said.

  Holly pulled out the chair in the corner and sat down, watching her housemate make her drink. “There’s not much to tell,” she said, trying not to think about the fact he hadn’t attempted a goodnight kiss.

  “You’re back in rather than admiring his leopard print bedsheets. Something must have gone wrong. What was it?”

  “Nothing went wrong. He gave me a lift home and here I am.”

  “Here you are indeed. But why are you here? Did you not like him?”

  “He was great. Look, I’m tired, Fi. Can I undergo the interrogation tomorrow?”

  “I guess so. At least tell me if you like him.”

  A grin spread involuntarily across Holly’s features. “Maybe.”

  She carried her drink upstairs to her bedroom, setting it down next to the pile of books on the bedside table. All of a sudden the man on the cover of The Rake and His Ruin didn’t seem as exciting. Not compared to someone in real life, someone who wanted a second date with her, someone who wanted to see her again. Okay, so he might not have kissed her yet. But she got the feeling he would next time he saw her. She also got the feeling that as long as she didn’t screw it up, he might do a lot more than just kiss her. She had no idea what he had planned for her, no idea at all.

  EIGHT

  THE NEXT DATE WAS arranged for Sunday afternoon. Holly had woken up on Saturday morning to the buzzing of her phone. She’d smacked it away without opening her eyes, thinking it was her alarm. But it wasn’t. It was her mother calling.

  She kept calling until Holly finally woke up properly half an hour later. She glanced at the time as the phone buzzed again. Four missed calls. “Hi, Mum,” she said, her mouth feeling desert dry as she sat up in bed, the wine from the previous evening weighing heavy, making her wish mobile phones hadn’t been invented.

  There was no house phone. Neither her nor Fiona saw the need for one. The internet was provided as part of their TV package but to have added a house phone would have cost an extra twenty pounds a month, an expense they felt they could live without given the amount of free minutes available on their mobiles.

  Without a house phone or a mobile, her mother would have just had to wait until she called. She wouldn’t be woken up at seven in the morning on a Saturday. “You said you’d come today,” Anne said down the phone. “I was just checking what time because I need to pop out this morning. I don’t want to be out when you arrive. Are you on your way?”

  “Mum, I’ve just woken up,” Holly said, trying to remember if she had agreed to visit them. The memory returned a moment later. She’d said it as a throwaway comment, I’ll try and pop through on Saturday. Not a definite.

  But her mother seemed so sad whenever she disappointed her. She didn’t have the heart to say anything other than yes, she would be setting off shortly.

  She drove out of the city as all the tourists were starting to drive in, not looking forward to the return journey. The worst part of living in York was making her way around the ring-road, fighting her way through the cars on their way to the seaside.

  The current family home was in Hull , just over an hour’s drive from York. They’d bought a house on the outskirts, her father able to ride a bike in to work each day rather than drive. His car was on the driveway when she arrived just after ten. Her mother was watching for her from the front room window.

  “He’s had to go in today,” she said. “Can’t get cover apparently. He said to apologise.”

  “It’s fine, Mum,” Holly said, looking at the piles of cardboard boxes in the hallway. “How long to go?”

  “Another few weeks. I just wanted to get a headstart. Tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Go through to the lounge. I’ll bring it to you.”

  Holly passed through the hallway and into the front room. She looked at the sofa, the flowers more faded than last time. How long had they had it? Ten years? Twenty? It had survived a lot of moves, more loyal than her, she thought as she sat down and felt instantly younger. It was an odd feeling, like she was regressing. If her mother had come in with a pile of homework for her, asking why it hadn’t been done yet, she wouldn’t have been that surprised.

  “Lizzie’s on her way,” Anne said as she reappeared with a tray containing two mugs, a teapot, a jug of milk and a plate of bourbon biscuits. “I told her you were here. She’s excited to see you.”

  Lizzie arrived just before noon. Holly could see how much she’d changed, the pregnancy making her whole face glow. “That’s not glowing,” she said when Holly mentioned it. “That’s me trying not to throw up in the car on the way here.”

  “Where’s Adrian?” Anne asked. “Did he not come with you?”

  “He had to work, Mum, remember,” Lizzie said.

  “Such a nice boy,” Anne said. “So well mannered.”

  “I’ll tell him that,” Lizzie replied. “Twenty-four and still being called a boy. He’ll appreciate that.” She turned to face Holly. “What about you? Anyone taken your fancy yet?”

  Holly wasn’t surprised by the question. Every time she saw her sister, the conversation seemed to move towards her lack of a boyfriend. She was never sure if Lizzie was genuinely interested or if it was her way of passive-aggressively referencing her own happy life. She was only marrying the deputy manager of a convenience shop, it wasn’t exactly moving into the Royal family. But, Holly reasoned whenever she thought about it for long enough, it was marriage. She felt a flare of jealousy as she looked at Lizzie and before she knew it, she’d answered, “There is actually.”

  Lizzie at least had the decency to control her expression. Their mother’s surprise was far more evident. “Really?” Anne asked, the half eaten biscuit in her hand temporarily forgotten. “Who is he?”

  “His name’s Joseph and I’m seeing him tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Seeing him? Seeing him how? Like a date seeing him?” Lizzie asked.

  “Our second date.”

  “Well good for you, big sis.”

  “How did you meet him?” Anne asked. “Do we know him? Is he a student?”

  “Nope, he owns his own busin
ess.”

  “Doing what?”

  Holly realised she didn’t actually know. “Web design,” she lied, hoping they wouldn’t ask any follow up questions. It was better than admitting the truth, that she hadn’t as yet remembered to ask him. They’d want to know why not and she didn’t want to have to tell them it was because their first date had been spent talking about her love of Jane Eyre at the expense of any other subjects.

  “Where’s he taking you?” Lizzie asked to Holly’s relief.

  “We’re going for a walk. There’s an old mansion he wants to show me.”

  “That’s so you,” Lizzie said as Anne spoke at the same time.

  “I hope it’s not dangerous,” she said, looking at her daughter as if she was made of porcelain. “I don’t want you going somewhere you might get hurt.”

  Holly wasn’t sure who to answer first. Lizzie was right, it was so her but that didn’t make the comment seem any less of an insult. And if her mother knew some of the empty places she’d already explored, she might explode. Better to play it down, better to keep good relations with both of them, no need to cause an argument.

  “It’s very safe,” she said, facing her mother before turning to her sister. “And thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  She stayed for another hour, trying to look interested while they told her all the machinations with the wedding plans. Finally, as the clock rolled around to one, she made her excuses. “I’ve got to get my dissertation finished,” she said, promising to return once it was done. “As soon as it’s over, I’ll have a proper visit and I’ll go through my old stuff too.”

  Driving back felt surprisingly painful. She realised that she missed spending time with the two of them, especially Lizzie. They had been very close growing up, though they fought viciously at times. And she missed her mum too, even her neurotic anxiety and inability to last more than fifteen minutes without another cup of tea. She would make more of an effort to see them, once the work was finished. When the baby was born, Lizzie would be constantly busy, this might be her last chance for some quality time with her, have a proper catch up. Next time, she thought.

  Her sadness had faded by the time she was approaching home. She’d begun to think about the next day, about her date. Hopefully the weather would be good. Hopefully she’d get to know what it was that Joseph really did for a living. She already knew what he did for fun. Or at least, she thought she did.

  NINE

  HOLLY WOKE UP STUPIDLY early on Sunday morning, glancing at the time before closing her eyes with a groan. Quarter past six. No student should be up at quarter past six unless they hadn’t been to bed yet.

  She lay on her side with her eyes closed for nearly ten minutes, doing her best to get back to sleep, cursing the thinness of her curtains, the light penetrating through them enough to illuminate the room and make it impossible for her to do anything other than sit up and accept the inevitable. She was awake. After rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly, she picked up her phone, surprised to find a message waiting from Joseph.

  Half two. I’ll be outside. Be ready.

  When had he sent that? Two in the morning? What was he doing up at that time? She felt a flash of jealousy, picturing him out at some nightclub somewhere, girls hanging on both arms, laughing at his jokes. Stop it, she told herself. He was going on a date with her, what more did she want?

  She sat up, propping her head on the pillows behind her, wondering whether to reply. No, it was too early. If he’d been up at two, he’d definitely be asleep by six. She pictured him with his eyes closed, laid on an enormous bed, her snuggled in under his arm. The thought made her sigh as she shuffled slowly downwards, drifting off into a pleasant daydream that gradually became a catnap. She jolted awake again a little after seven, feeling that was a little more respectable even if it was still early for a Sunday.

  Not wanting to disturb Fiona, she tiptoed downstairs in her dressing gown, waiting for the kettle to boil whilst looking at the photos on the fridge, shuffling on the cold tiles to keep her feet from freezing. Her family looked back at her as she looked at them. The younger her looked out too, still scowling. She wanted to speak to that little version of herself, tell her it would be all right, she’d get a date eventually.

  Once she had a coffee made, she went through to the lounge and opened her laptop, loading her essay and telling herself that she wouldn’t move until she had at least fifty words done. She got thirty finished by the time Fiona came down at a little after ten, leaving her feeling proud of herself even if she knew she’d probably delete them all after her date.

  “Good morning,” Fiona said, sinking into her chair. “You’re up early.”

  “Am I?”

  “Don’t think I don’t know why. You’re seeing him again later, aren’t you? What time are you going?”

  “He said he’d pick me up here at half two.”

  “Does that mean I get to meet him?”

  “No it does not. You are to remain glued to that chair or I’ll never speak to you again.”

  Fiona protested but when it came round to the afternoon, she stopped teasing, promising to remain out of sight in return for all the gory details when Holly got back. “Good luck,” she said as Holly watched out of the window as his car drove past to the end of the street, already starting to turn round as she grabbed her handbag.

  “Enjoy yourself,” Fiona shouted after her as she headed outside, pulling the door closed after her.

  He stopped in the middle of the road and she jumped in next to him. “Good afternoon,” he said, nodding imperiously. “Your chauffeur is here.”

  “That’s a pity,” Holly replied as she fiddled with her seatbelt. “I was hoping for my date.”

  “He couldn’t come. Will I do?”

  “I suppose so. Where are we headed?”

  “Remember I was going to show you that mansion I found?”

  “Oh yes, whereabouts is it?”

  “About ten miles north, heading towards Thirsk.”

  It didn’t take long to drive out of York and the conversation flowed easily enough. All it took was for Joseph to ask her what she was reading at the moment and she was off, getting into the murky territory of telling him the truth, giving him more detail about The Rake and His Ruin than anyone could ever possibly need.

  When they turned off the main road, Holly finally fell silent, looking at the trees around them, lush and green in the summer sun. She had to get out of the city more. She missed the woods, the peace, the way the light hit the ground, flickering and changing as the breeze moved the branches.

  They turned again, this time onto an even narrower road before finally stopping on a forestry track in front of an old wooden gate that was secured by a rusty chain and padlock.

  “Are we allowed in here?” Holly asked as they climbed out of the car.

  “As far as I know,” Joseph replied, already swinging his leg over the gate. “Want to take a risk?”

  Holly shrugged, “I can always blame you if we get done for trespassing.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  He held his hand out, helping her over the gate. As she landed, she thought he’d let go but he continued to hold her hand, a minor gesture yet at the same time overwhelmingly significant. She tried her best not to read too much into it as he led her along the track, looking forwards, not at her. She kept glancing down at his hand, grinning as she looked at his fingers wrapped around hers. She liked how her hand fitted so easily into his. It was a good feeling, one that made her feel warm inside and increasingly tense, like she shouldn’t be this lucky.

  “How far is it?” she asked as the track curved round to the left, starting to descend deeper into the trees.

  “About five minutes,” he replied. “Think you can make it?”

  “It’s a marathon kind of distance but I think I’ll manage,” she said, looking around her at the trees, trying not to think about her hand being held so tightly, worried she might pass out if she th
ought any harder about it, the feeling was already so intense. His skin felt rough but warm, just like his voice.

  Had anyone ever held her hand? Don’t think about it, just look at the trees.

  “I did a bit of research,” he said, glancing across at her as she tried to wipe the vacant grin from her lips. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she replied too quickly. “You were saying?”

  “I did some research after I found the place. It turned out it was a Victorian hunting lodge. Built in 1865 by a Jacob Rawlinson. The forest wasn’t here then. All these trees were planted after the first world war. It was all his land and he wanted somewhere private. Apparently after he died, the family sold the estate and the house was just left to crumble. Too far from civilisation for anyone to move here.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Wait until you see it. I’d move in tomorrow if I could.”

  “You’d live somewhere like this? In the middle of nowhere?”

  “Does that sound odd to you?”

  “No,” Holly said with a broadening smile. “It sounds perfect.”

  As they turned the next corner, the remains of a drive came into view. It headed to the left and about fifty yards along it, Holly could see the corner of a building. “Is that it?” she asked, already impressed.

  “What do you think?”

  It came into view gradually, the trees falling away to leave a space in front and to the sides of the building. Made of dark stone, the walls had a slightly foreboding look, several of the windows broken and ivy covered. The curling branches suffocated most of the frontage, climbing in through the gaps in the rotten frames, avoiding the jagged edges of glass. The grounds had grown wild around the building, as if grass had tried to swallow it up but had been defeated in its attempt, knocked back and cursing from the ground, ready to attempt again in a few years.

  “I think someone must own it,” Joseph said, coming to a stop and looking up at the stonework. “It looks like the weeds have been treated and can you see how it’s worn down on the way over to the porch?”