Free one-hit wonder by Lisa Jewell

time.” Her face dropped again and she rested a hand on Ana’s arm.
    “I’m so terribly, terribly, un- speak ably sorry about the dreadful thing that happened to your sister. I feel so completely responsible—you see, I live next door and I didn’t notice and . . .”
    But Ana wasn’t listening. She was still reeling from the
    “Bee used to talk about you all the time” comment.
    “Um, I was just about to open another bottle of champagne,” Ana found herself saying, much to her own surprise. “Would you like to have a glass with me?” Mrs. Tilly-Loubelle’s face lit up, and she grinned naughtily.

    “How delightful. I’d love to, dear.”
    Ana was incredibly grateful to the old lady for not mentioning her bizarre appearance, but then, she wasn’t really in a position to say anything, Ana supposed, given the matching pink dressing gown, slippers, and dog-vest ensemble.
    She let Amy in and locked the door behind her.

    “Oh, she was a lovely girl,” said Amy, sipping enthusiastically at her second glass of champagne. “From the minute I set eyes on her I thought—there’s a girl after my own heart. She reminded me so much of myself at the same age, so stylish and well turned out. Always had her nails done, her hair was always just so. And so unconventional.”
    “Did you see her often?”
    “No”—she shook her head—“not as often as I’d have liked.
    We shared a pot of tea from time to time. She always took a very kind interest in my well-being. But young people, they have their own lives to live, don’t they? We’ve had our turn.” She chuckled and then became sad again. “It’s just so, so tragic that her turn was cut short. It never occurs to you, when you get to my age. I’d left her all sorts of things in my will, you know, bits and pieces she’d admired in my apartment—and I was going to ask her to look after dear Freddie, here.” She pointed at the long dog slumbering beside her on the sofa. “Just presumed I’d pop off first. You don’t think of young people going first.”
    “Have you—do you have any idea what happened here on that last night?” Ana asked. “Did she have anyone . . . here?
    With her?”
    Amy shook her head. “I heard her going out at about nine o’clock, just as I was getting ready for bed. I recognize the click of her door, you see. And then I went to bed, put in my earplugs, and that was the last I knew until the next morning.
    I’m a very heavy sleeper, you see. Once I’ve conked out, nothing can wake me.”
    “And what happened the next day? Did anything seem strange?”
    “Goodness,” Mrs. Tilly-Loubelle chuckled, “have you ever thought of joining the police force?”
    “Sorry. It’s just that we—me and my mother—we don’t really know very much. Only what they told us on the phone, and—”
    “Where is your mother, by the way? Is she not here with you?”
    Ana shook her head. “No,” she said, “my mother’s agoraphobic. She can’t leave the house, so she sent me.” Amy clutched her heart with her hand. “Oh, how simply awful,” she gasped. “Imagine—not being able to leave your own home. It would be like being a prisoner. I’m so sorry, Ana—that’s simply dreadful. But to answer your question, no.
    Nothing seemed strange the next day. Bee wasn’t around, but then, she was away most weekends. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about that.”
    “Where did she go? On the weekends?”
    Amy looked surprised and smiled quizzically at her.

    “Why—to see you, of course!”
    “ Me ?”
    “Yes. To stay with you. In Devon.”
    “In Devon?”
    “That’s right, dear.”
    “And Bee told you that? Bee told you she spent weekends with me in Devon?”
    “Absolutely. She told me about your lovely little flat overlooking the sea and the two of you playing your guitars and going for walks together. She needed to escape, that’s what she used to say, get away from all the hustle and bustle.
    She said that the air in