Page 40 of No Safe Place

Thursday | Evening

Lily

She asked Scott to go to the shops for almond milk and peppermint tea – two things she could be sure he didn’t have in – and he reluctantly obliged. Lily eased herself out of the bed, to look in his fridge.

The shelves were gleaming, not a speck of food or dribble of sauce on the glass. His cleaner’s work.

Scott took pride in eating healthily.

Where the vegetable drawers in her and Cal’s fridge were empty, apart from slabs of chocolate and a few sugary yoghurts, both of Scott’s were full.

The first was fruit. Red apples, one lemon.

Lily opened a paper bag. It was full of fat, seasonal strawberries. Bought at the market, not Tesco, to save using a plastic carton.

She dropped them back in the drawer.

She didn’t want to open the vegetable one. Spinach and kale and cucumber – never cooked but blended to a thick, ripe pulp and downed at breakfast.

He was so good , this man. Fucking perfect.

Lily’s stomach twisted again, and she put a hand to it. She knew something wasn’t right, and the sick feeling was only getting worse.

Ginger was good for nausea. Cal always kept a bottle of ginger ale on standby for her, even though she hadn’t been on meds, and suffering the side effects, for a long time.

She slammed the fridge door, put a hand to her mouth and turned to the kitchen sink. There was nothing left for her to throw up, but she retched, dry-heaving over the coffee cups in the washing-up bowl.

Her phone was buzzing on the side – unknown number. Lily wiped her mouth. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello, is this Lily Stewart?’

‘Speaking.’ Weak again, she slid down the cabinets and sat on the floor.

‘Great. This is DS Wilson.’

Another stab of cramp, her stomach clenching hard.

‘I wanted to check, Lily, are you staying with your boyfriend again tonight?’

Lily stared at the phone, wondering whether something was wrong with the speaker. The voice sounded faint and far away.

‘Yes,’ she said, finally.

‘Okay, good. Now with everything going on, I’d advise you to lock the windows and put the bolt on the door. I’m sure you’re perfectly safe, but—’

The “but” hung in the digital air between them.

‘We’re hoping to interview Callum tomorrow, Lily. Could you come down to the Maudsley, in the morning? He’d like you to act as his appropriate adult.’

‘Oh. Yeah, I’ll be there.’

‘Great. We can pick you up.’ Wilson sounded relieved. ‘I’ll aim to get to you for around 10 a.m.?’

Lily made a noise of agreement and Wilson ended the call.

She checked the time. Scott had been gone a while, and she didn’t want him to wander through the door while she was on the phone to the hospital. But she wanted to see how Cal was, whether he was in bed.

She moved to the bathroom; ran a bath she didn’t want to get into. Dialled the number to the sound of the water.

Dr Maxwell couldn’t come to the phone, but Lily had a short conversation with a nurse. All she would say over the phone was that Callum was safe, and they’d take good care of him.

‘Okay,’ Lily said, weakly. ‘Thank you.’

She sat on the closed lid of the toilet, phone in her hand, and stared at the bath slowly filling.

Part of her could sense the fridge, looming in the kitchenette. Almost hear its low buzzing, its shelves full of health and vitality mocking her from inside it.