Ethan caught her eye and muttered softly, ‘Yep. You can’t smell it yet but, the milk’s about to go bad.’

Maybe it was some kind of prickle in her soul that made her look up, past the windows on the first few floors of the Sleep Centre, higher, to a window at the top of the Staff Bubble, where someone stood, probably watching over the green. To Thea though, it really seemed like she was watching her and her alone.

Delores.

Chapter 14

“Striking” was the perfect word to describe Delores; it had just the right edge of violence lingering in it. Beautiful, but also really fucking intimidating.

She was sitting on a low, deep, half-moon windowsill in an office at the very top of the Staff Bubble. It had high curved walls and a ceiling made completely of glass. Light flooded in: too much, too bright, weaponized. It slanted so as to miss Delores’s desk but fell squarely on the seat opposite, so any guest would have to squint and sweat uncomfortably through their meeting.

‘Thea Mackenzie.’

It wasn’t a question, so Thea didn’t reply. Despite her best efforts, her heart was thumping loudly and she felt as if she had done something wrong. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d asked for shoes, for God’s sake!

Rory had taken her in the lift in the middle of the building, the walkways to each floor radiating from it. He’d given her hand a squeeze before leaving her at the office door.

Delores continued to gaze down at the scene below her, whatever it was. From Thea’s angle all she could see was the dough-coloured sky.

‘How are you finding everything?’ Delores didn’t turn to look at her.

Thea couldn’t stop herself. ‘Is this about the shoes?’

‘Hmm?’

For the first time, Delores wrenched her eyes away from the window and swivelled a little to face Thea. She was wearing a dress the colour of newly sharpened knives.

‘The shoes? I asked for outdoor shoes …’

Delores cocked her head to one side. ‘Did you?’ She smiled a little. ‘You wish to explore?’

And there was the opportunity to tell Delores the truth, that she wanted to hunt for phantom faces in ruined monastery windows but the sunlight on her face was so bright and hot it melted the words in her throat.

‘There’s a lighthouse. Apparently. It’s why people used to come and visit the island. Boat-trippers, you know? I thought it might be … nice … to go and see it.’

‘Nice. Yes.’ Delores sounded as if she couldn’t agree, despite her words. ‘But no, this isn’t about the shoes. Though I’m sure they can be arranged.’