The Lies We Told by Camilla Way (best book recommendations txt) 📕

and happy, Clara thought, such a stark contrast to how battered by grief and worry they were now. “How are they?” Emily asked. “How are Mum and Dad?”

There was such anguish in her face that Clara felt her throat thicken with sympathy. She paused, searching for the right words. “They’re not good, Emily,” she finally admitted. “Luke’s disappearance . . .”

Emily looked so sad that Clara couldn’t help herself any longer. “Emily, what happened to you? Where have you been all this time? What happened when you were eighteen?”

But it was as if the shutters slammed down in her eyes and she looked away.

Into the tense silence Clara said miserably, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you. It’s just . . . your mum and dad, it would make them so happy to know that you’re okay. Can I just tell them that I’ve seen you, that you’re alive and well? It would—”

“No!” A group of people sitting at the next table glanced over at them in surprise, and Emily stared down at her hands for a while. When finally she spoke again, her voice was very quiet. “I hope, very soon, that I’ll be able to go home. When all this is over, when we’ve found Luke, I will go back to my parents. But you must let me do that myself. I don’t want someone else to break the news to them, to fill them with hope when I don’t know how long it will be before I can go back to them.”

“But—”

Emily leaned forward, gazing at her urgently. “It wouldn’t be safe, for my parents, or for me, if I return home now. You just have to trust me, Clara. But I will go to them. When they’ve found Luke, I will go home. I need a little more time, that’s all.”

Clara searched Emily’s face. “What do you mean,” she said, “that it wouldn’t be safe? What are you frightened of? If you’re in danger, you must—”

“Clara,” Emily cut her off. “I can’t talk about it. If you can’t promise me that you won’t tell them, then I’ll have to leave.” She half rose from her seat and Clara put her hand out to stop her.

“No, please stay, please. I promise. I . . .” She trailed off uncertainly. It didn’t make any sense, and she didn’t know if she could bear to keep something so huge from the two people she loved so dearly. But it was clear that Emily wasn’t going to explain herself now. Finally, she said, “Do you promise you will go to them, when Luke’s found?”

Emily nodded. “I promise, Clara. All the attention should be on him now, on finding him. There’s nothing I want more than to see them again. I’m just asking you to keep this secret for a little while longer.”

And what if we don’t find Luke? The unwelcome thought snaked its way through Clara’s mind and with effort she pushed it away. Reluctantly she nodded. “Okay.”

A man by the bar went over to the jukebox, and within moments the soulful strains of a Joan Armatrading song filled the room.

“What are they like now,” Emily asked then, “my mum and dad? I’ve tried so hard to imagine them over the years, to picture them as time passed, but it’s so difficult after so long.”

Clara stared down at her drink for a moment as she thought how to answer. “Before Luke went missing, they were . . . happy, in a way, I guess. But you must know that they never got over you leaving. How could they? They don’t talk about you because it’s too painful, but I know that they think of you every day.”

“I had to go,” Emily said, her voice so low now that Clara had to strain to hear her. “I had no choice.”

Clara nodded, desperate for an explanation but knowing better than to push for it again, and, her gaze falling to the photos in her hand, asked, “Don’t you have one of Tom?”

“No,” she replied. “No, I don’t have a picture of Tom.” And there was something in her tone that made Clara stare at her in surprise, but before she could speak, Emily asked quietly, “Do you see him ever?”

“No—that is, only now and then. He lives in Norwich, so . . . but, um, he’s well, I think. I mean he seems quite well. Desperately worried for Luke too, of course, but . . .”

The barman came over at that moment and wiped down their table, and they waited until he’d finished. “Tell me about Luke,” Emily asked when he’d gone. “Have the police any idea what happened to him? Is there any news at all?”

Slowly, while the bar filled up around them, Clara told her everything that had happened since Luke’s disappearance: the threatening e-mails she’d found, the break-ins, the police inquiry, which had so far come to nothing. “Mac—that’s Luke’s friend—and I have decided to try to find out who it might be who hates Luke enough to do all these things,” Clara told her, describing their visit to Amy and the list of women they had yet to see.

Emily listened to her with rapt attention and, when she’d finished, gave Clara a sad smile. “I could tell, when I saw you on the news, how much you love my brother. And I bet he loves you too. I bet he loves you so much.”

An unwelcome picture of Sadie’s face flashed before Clara’s eyes, but she pushed it away. “I just wish I knew what had happened to him,” she said. “To just vanish into thin air . . . it’s . . .” She shook her head.

“It must be so hard for you.”

They were silent for a moment; then Emily asked, “You were talking about my parents. Be honest with me. Are they coping, do you think?”

Clara considered this. “They’re strong people, and they’re trying to stay positive, but yes, they’re deeply upset. I don’t think they’re sleeping or eating properly, and I have to admit I’m worried for them.”

Emily nodded, and after a moment Clara said cautiously, “I’m sorry, but