Page 13 of Plot Twist

But as I continued to follow the directions to Rathcliffe, the doubts crept back into my mind.

I’d texted Adam the Absolute Worst to apologise for freaking out so much at the funeral. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been the one to tell me about Rae and Drew, after all. He was just caught in the crossfire. We’d exchanged some messages before I told him about my trip to Ireland. He was aghast when I confessed I’d never met my ‘friend’ in real life. I watched the black dots appear, typing back furiously, and then disappear. He seemed to write back several possible responses before coming over all ‘big brother’ on me.

ARE YOU MENTAL?

He went off on a rant about how crazy I was and how I could be going to stay with anyone. Blah, blah, blah. I’d disabled the notifications on my phone for his messages. Just for a few hours.

14 minutes.

I stopped at the lights and quickly checked my phone. Riley had sent me a video. Checking the lights, I hit play to see Ivy jumping up and down with a huge grin on her face.

Is she here yet? Is she here yet? (actual footage of Ivy anticipating your arrival).

I smiled. No one with a child that cute could possibly be a psychopath, could they?

13 minutes.

I was grateful to Riley for taking me under her wing. Psychopath or not, I didn’t know what I’d have done without her messages over the last week. Maybe it was because she was a writer; she always seemed to know the right thing to say at the right time and, somehow, make me smile, even when I felt the lowest I’d ever felt.

Smile. Not belly laugh, the way I used to with Rae.

Rae with her extra-loud and easy contagious chuckle. Whenever something mildly funny happened, you could bet Rae would be clapping along enthusiastically like a seal. It was enough to make anyone laugh along. Even Drew, apparently.

12 minutes.

Then there was Drew, with his carefully pressed suits and shirts. He even ironed his bloody boxer shorts and tracked his earnings and outgoings with spreadsheets, the last I’d known of him anyway. Before everything changed.

Of course, he hadn’t always been like that. Mr Whippy hadn’t been like that.

Drew and Rae. Rae and Drew.

3 minutes.

God, I was nearly there. Time to come face to face with this possible psychopath that I’d been conversing with so freely and had agreed, on a whim, to spend the summer with.

What. On. Earth. Was. I. Thinking?

Welcome to Rathcliffe, the sign read.

The green fields turned into rows of shops– the barber’s, the newsagent, the baker’s, the coffee shop. People stood outside, exchanging pleasantries like a sunny scene out of a Dickens novel. Children played out in the street and queued at the sweet counter.

What was it Riley said? When the satnav says to turn right at the bridge, ignore it and turn left. I spotted the blue gate she’d mentioned and turned right, as instructed, up the bumpy lane.

I approached the end of the lane and caught sight of a single-storey L-shaped white cottage boasting an extraordinary number of brightly coloured plant pots. The garden looked like it stretched for miles, surrounded by green grass with the mountains cushioned proudly in the distance. I couldn’t think of anywhere more idyllic to write for the summer. No wonder Riley was knocking it out of the park when it came to writing romantic settings. She was surrounded by the most beautiful scenery I’d ever seen. All my senses tingled as I rolled down the window to breathe it all in, as I spotted the oak sign with the words ‘Bellinder Cottage’ beside the front door.

My heart was beating wildly in my chest. I’d made it.

The white panelled front door of Bellinder Cottage flew open and Ivy came bursting out into the driveway.

‘She’s here, she’s here!’ she squealed.

I grinned at the small child, who already felt so familiar to me from her adorable pictures. I couldn’t recall seeing any pictures of Riley herself, but I felt that I knew what she would look like. In my mind, her long, flowing blond hair and baggy skirt were about to emerge from the low white cottage.

So when a man followed out of the front door, walked over to put his arm around Ivy and waved at me, I felt slightly confused. Even though I reciprocated with a smile and wave, my mind was reeling.

Riley hadn’t mentioned a partner to me. Not once. She’d talked about her fictional characters’ relationships, she’d talked about Ivy, but she’d never, ever mentioned a boyfriend or husband. Especially notthisman. I mean, I’d have mentioned him if I’d just walked past him in the street. All six foot something of him towered above Ivy, his broad shoulders and bulky arms snug under a blue and white Gaelic football jersey, with his dark shorts showing off his muscular legs. He looked like some sort of mythical Irish God. His deep black wavy hair was longer on top and shaved closely at the sides, leading to his tanned skin and dark facial hair dusted across his chin. He had the widest, most welcoming grin and his bright eyes sparkled like he was sharing some sort of joke with me. His Irish eyes were smiling, indeed, and I seemed to have lost my ability to function.

I turned the engine off, fidgeting with my handbag strap. It seemed odd to tell this drop-dead gorgeous man, whoever he was, that I was coming to stay here. I kept looking at the door behind him, hoping Riley would follow him out.