63
For the first time in my life, I’m lost for words. I can’t even form a coherent thought, never mind speak.
‘I can tell you didn’t expect to find me here,’ Jess says, not moving. After a couple of seconds I shake my head slowly. ‘What’s wrong, Daniel? Don’t you believe in ghosts?’ She walks towards me, then past me, sitting herself down on a bale of hay. ‘Come. Sit with me.’
I’m struck dumb. I can’t say or do anything. I can only presume I’m hallucinating. I saw her lying dead on the floor of that caravan. She was as dead as Lisa had been that day at the hotel. Or had I imagined the whole thing?
‘Sit down, Daniel,’ she says, as if she’s speaking to a small child. Her tone of voice and the way she uses my full name takes me back to a time long before I met her, long before I met Lisa.
