Shallow Be Thy Grave by A. J. Taft Read Free Book Online Page A

find a broom cupboard. It contained, aptly enough, a broom, a dustpan and a bucket and a cardboard box that was taped up. She recognised her sister’s handwriting on the side, ‘to store’. Probably all her stuff from the Beaumonts’. 
    Lily went back to the bedroom. She felt bad rummaging around her sister’s bedroom, particularly because it obviously wasn’t just her sister’s room. It belonged to her sister and a total stranger. All they knew about Brigitte was her name.
    Lily didn’t discover much else about her from the contents of the room either. The small chest of drawers contained hardly any clothes, a couple of warmer jumpers that Lily didn’t recognise. The wardrobe had another large cardboard box in the bottom of it, again with Fiona’s handwriting, ‘Fiona’s stuff’ on the side. Lily opened the top of it and saw a bundle of books, and hastily-packed clutter, on the top of which lay a stack of letters, tied up with a ribbon. Lily lifted them out and saw that the top one was addressed to Fiona at the Beaumonts. She tried her best to flick through the letters, recognising her own handwriting on some.  She placed them back in the box. It was obvious to her that Fiona had only intended to stay here a while, which would explain why she hadn’t got round to unpacking her boxes. She had probably planned on this being a temporary stop, just until they went inter-railing. Didn’t Madame Beaumont say she’d only moved out last month?
    Lily had a thought, a flash of inspiration. She lifted the bottom right corner of the mattress. Nothing. She went round all four corners. Again nothing. She found what she was looking for under the double mattress - an A5 hard-backed book, its cover decorated with squirls and doodles. Fiona’s diary. A pen was tucked in the pages, which had led the spine of the diary to warp. Lily carried it through into the kitchen like an unexploded bomb.
    “There’s no milk,” said Jo, as she put the two mugs she was carrying down on the kitchen table. “When did Stuart say they set off?”
    “Why didn’t she take her diary?” Lily held it up for Jo to see.
    Jo didn’t look concerned. “Maybe she bought a new one especially for the trip. I did. When I went inter-railing, me and my boyfriend, Dan the dickhead, we wrote one between us.”
    “Dan?” She’d never heard Jo mention him before either, but Lily’s mind was on other things. She sat down on one of the wooden chairs. The diary didn’t have printed dates on each page. It was a hard-backed, lined notebook that Fiona kept as a journal. Lily flicked through the pages quickly, not stopping to read the words. She turned to the last page of handwriting. “I suppose that makes sense. Her last entry in this,” she closed the green diary and held it up, “was Monday April 29th.”
    “What does it say?”
    “I feel weird, reading it.”
    “For fuck’s sake, Lil.” Jo sparked up the spliff she’d rolled, and held out her hand for the diary as Lily passed it across the table to her. Jo picked it up and then flopped down heavily into the small settee that stood against the far wall and exhaled a great plume of smoke. A moment later she screwed up her face in outraged disgust. “Fucking hell.”
    “What?” asked Lily, her heart thumping. “What’s it say?”
    “Oh, not that, the spliff.”
    “What?”
    “Try it.” Jo handed it across to Lily. By each of them stretching as far as they could, they reached each other’s fingertips without having to stand. Lily remained seated at the kitchen table as she took a lungful of smoke. As she exhaled she half expected to see a stream of bubbles come out of her mouth, the taste of soap was so overwhelming. “Oh my God, it’s like having your mouth washed out.” Like her mother used to threaten when she swore. “Disgusting.”
     Jo held out her hand. “Pass it back.”
    Lily passed her the spliff and the unused ashtray from the centre of the table. Jo took another drag,