arrived swiftly on the scene, but that Mia was pronounced dead on their arrival. She explained that her body was being held at the Sanglah morgue in Bali. She confirmed that there would be further investigations, but that so far the Balinese police believed it was a tragic accident.
All the while Katie stood completely still.
‘Is there someone you would like us to contact on your behalf?’
She thought instantly of their mother. She allowed herself a moment to imagine the comfort of being held in her arms, the soft cashmere of her mother’s jumper against her cheek. ‘No,’ she told the officer eventually. ‘I’d like you to leave now. Please.’
‘Of course. Someone from the Foreign Office will be in touch tomorrow with an update from the Balinese police. I’d also like to visit you again. I’ve been assigned as your Family Liaison Officer and will be here to answer any questions you have.’ The woman took a card from her pocket and placed it beside the phone.
Both officers told Katie how sorry they were, and then left.
As the door clicked shut, the strength in Katie’s legs dissipated and she sank onto the cold wooden floor. She didn’t cry. She hugged her knees to her chest to contain the trembling that had seized her. Why had Mia been in Bali? Katie didn’t know anything about the place. There was a bombing outside a nightclub some years ago, but what else? Clearly there were cliffs, but the only ones she could picture were the grass-covered cliffs of Cornwall that Mia had bounded along as a child, dark hair flying behind her.
She tried to imagine how Mia could have fallen. Was she standing on an overhang and the earth crumbled? Did a sudden gust of wind unbalance her? Was she sitting on the edge and became distracted? It seemed absurdly careless to fall from a cliff. The facts Katie had been given were so few that she couldn’t arrange them into any sort of sense. She knew she should call someone. Ed. She would speak to Ed.
It was her third attempt before she managed to dial correctly. She heard the rustle of a duvet, a mumbled, ‘Hello?’ and then silence as he listened. When he spoke again, his voice was level, telling her only, ‘I’m on my way.’
It must have taken no less than ten minutes for him to drive from his apartment in Fulham to hers in Putney, but looking back she wouldn’t remember any of that time. She was still sitting on the hallway floor, her skin like goose flesh, when the intercom buzzed. She stood groggily. The floorboards had marked the backs of her thighs with red slash-like indentations. She pressed the button to let him in.
Katie heard the thundering of his feet as he took the steps two at a time, and then Ed was at her door. She opened it and he stepped forward, folding her into his arms. ‘My darling!’ he said. ‘My poor darling!’
She pressed her face into the stiff wool of his jacket, which scratched against her cold cheek. She smelt deodorant. Had he sprayed himself with deodorant before coming over?
‘You’re freezing. We can’t stand here.’ He led her into the lounge and she perched on the edge of the cream leather sofa. It’s like sitting on vanilla ice cream, Mia had said the morning it was delivered.
Ed removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, rubbing her back with smooth circular strokes. Then he went into the kitchen and she heard him open the boiler cupboard and flick on the central heating, which rumbled and strained into life. There was the gush of a tap as he filled the kettle, followed by the opening and closing of drawers, cupboards and the fridge.
He returned with a cup of tea, but her hands didn’t move to take it. ‘Katie,’ he said, crouching down so they were eye level. ‘You are in shock. Try and drink a little. It will help.’
He lifted the tea to her lips and she sipped it obediently. She could taste the sweet milky flavour on her tongue and the urge to retch was immediate. She lurched past him to the bathroom with a hand clamped to her mouth. The jacket slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor with a soft thump.
Bending over the sink, she gagged. Saliva hit the white ceramic basin.
Ed was behind her. ‘Sorry…’
Katie rinsed her hands and splashed water over her face.
‘Darling,’ he said, passing her a blue hand towel. ‘What happened?’
She buried her face in it and shook her head. He gently peeled the towel away, then unhooked her dressing gown from the back of the bathroom door and guided her arms into the soft cotton. He took her hands in his and rubbed them. ‘Talk to me.’
She repeated the details learnt from the police. Her voice sounded jagged and she imagined that if she were to glance up at the bathroom mirror, her skin would be leached of colour, her eyes glassy.
As they moved back to the lounge, Ed asked the same question to which she wanted the answer: ‘Why was your sister in Bali?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Have you spoken to Finn?’
‘Not yet. I should call him.’
Her hands shook as she dialled Finn’s mobile. She pressed the phone to her ear and listened as it rang and rang. ‘He’s not answering.’
‘What about his family? Do you know their number?’
Katie searched in her address book and found it, the Cornish dialling code stirring a faint memory that she wasn’t ready to grasp.
Finn was the youngest of four brothers. His mother, Sue, a curt woman who was often harassed, answered, sounding half asleep. ‘Who is this?’
‘Katie Greene.’
‘Who?’
‘Katie Greene.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Mia’s sister.’
‘Mia?’ Sue repeated. Then immediately: ‘Finn?’
‘There’s been an accident—’
‘Finn—’
‘No. It’s Mia.’ Katie paused and looked at Ed. He nodded for her to go on. ‘The police have been here. They told me that Mia was in Bali … on a cliff somewhere. She fell. They’re saying she’s dead.’
‘No…’
In the background she could hear Finn’s father, a placid man in his sixties who worked for the Forestry Commission. There was a brief volley of exclamations muffled by a hand over the receiver, and then Sue returned to the line. ‘Does Finn know?’
‘I’d imagine so. But he’s not answering his mobile.’
‘He lost it a few weeks ago. Hasn’t replaced it yet. We’ve been using email. I’ve got his address if you want—’
‘Why were they in Bali?’ Katie interrupted.
‘Bali? Finn wasn’t.’
‘But that’s where they said Mia was found. Her passport was stamped—’
‘Mia went to Bali. Not Finn.’
