Page 57 of The Lucky Winners

Dev

Dev sets off at an easy pace down the gravelled path leading away from Lakeview House.

It’s late morning and the sun casts the vast countryside around him in hues of bright gold and copper.

Merri has rushed off to Nottingham, worried about Paige for some unfathomable reason she didn’t properly explain to him.

But he’s quite relishing some time to himself, and he doesn’t care if he never sets foot in Nottingham again.

Moving to the Lake District has taught Dev to appreciate his surroundings.

He didn’t see many wild flowers dotting the edges of the path back in Nottingham on the housing estate where they lived, but he’d certainly notice anything beautiful and natural in the middle of concrete suburbia now.

The natural beauty this morning only emphasizes the sadness of Sarah’s death.

Jack passes him in his battered Land Rover.

Dev raises his hand for him to stop, but Jack hunches over his steering wheel, red-rimmed eyes focused straight ahead as the old vehicle rumbles past. How he must feel this morning, God only knows.

Dev had tried ringing and texting his friend first thing and had even called in at Mower World, in case Jack had gone there to escape.

Unsurprisingly the place had been shut up.

Dev knows Jack must blame him and Merri. For setting them up, as he’d called it, and for Merri making things worse by going after Sarah when she left the house. But they aren’t to blame for Sarah’s death. Now Dev wants to support Jack the best he can and avoid a breakdown in communication.

The sun on the back of his neck feels at odds with the stone-cold weight he currently carries in his chest. He pauses briefly at the crest of the hill, looking down towards Tilda’s stylish barn nestled among the trees.

She’d texted him about an hour ago, saying she needed to see him urgently and could he come alone. Her message had seemed a bit frantic and to the point. It had to be today. It had to be right now .

He reaches into his pocket for his phone and curses. Now he remembers placing it on the kitchen counter while he put on his trainers. He’d tried calling and texting Merri before he left to tell her about Tilda’s message, but she’s not answering.

It probably wasn’t the best idea for her to go on a mysterious wild goose chase back to Nottingham the day they’d found out about poor Sarah’s demise.

If the detectives decide they have more questions to be answered – which is likely, as they were the last people to see Sarah alive – Dev will have to explain where she is.

Sometimes he feels Paige has some kind of hold on his wife, the stuff Merri does for her.

He exhales, his boots crunching against the gravel path before it turns to soft earth when he turns off.

Around him, the natural world buzzes with life.

A blackbird hops across the ground ahead, a worm dangling from its beak.

Further off, he catches sight of a deer, its head raised, ears twitching before it bounds silently back into the undergrowth.

It’s so peaceful and idyllic here, but Dev’s thoughts continue to churn like dark water beneath a deceptively still surface.

He’d been watching Merri quite a bit at home when she wasn’t aware.

Noticed her movements were often sharp and agitated as she’d wiped the already pristine kitchen worktop for the third time since he’d stood there.

She had this habit of constantly looking out of the windows, down the garden, as if she’d seen movement out there.

These days – even before Sarah’s death – there seemed to be something extra in her eyes that he couldn’t quite get the measure of. Paranoia, maybe, or fear.

She’s been like this for a while now and he hadn’t thought much of it at first. Merri has always been distrustful of other people, even those she’s known for some time.

She’s quick to keep her distance and guard her privacy – but lately, since they’d arrived at Lakeview, her behaviour has spiralled into something else entirely.

She’s jumpy and skittish, as if she’s constantly expecting something bad to happen. Dev has noticed she’s started double-checking the locks on all the doors and windows, sometimes three or four times a night before bedtime, and she won’t let him leave the curtains open after dark.

She keeps complaining about the smell of algae from the lake and now refuses to keep the doors open.

The other day Merri froze mid-conversation, her gaze fixed on the trees beyond the garden as if she’d seen someone lurking there. When Dev asked her what was wrong, she’d muttered something about her eyes playing tricks on her. But the tremor in her voice told a different story.

Whenever he tries to talk about it, she brushes him off with a dismissive smile or a vague excuse about the stress of the move, but he knows it’s more than that.

Whatever’s eating at her, she’s not going to let him in.

And that – more than her odd behaviour, more than the unease that’s been building in his gut – frightens him most of all.

There’s something big she’s keeping from him, he’s certain of it. She’s always kept him at arm’s length when it comes to her past, but lately there’s been a new guardedness about her. A real distance.

He won’t stay long at Tilda’s and then he’ll head home to try contacting Merri again. Urge her to come back as soon as she can.

A branch snaps beneath his foot, and the sound startles him into the present. He’s close now: Tilda and Simon’s house is visible through the thinning trees.

The sunlight filters through the barn kitchen window, the curtains drawn back, and Tilda appears there.

From this angle, it occurs to Dev that she looks like someone else entirely.