There was no sign of life at the Devines’ house. Plantation shutters firmly closed. No car in the drive.
Alex rapped on the door and stood aside.
‘Maybe no one’s home?’ said Beth hopefully.
The door opened. Charlie looked pale. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. She wore no make-up. Usually, her all-white wardrobe was like a highlighter for her tanned skin, but today, the simple oversized white linen shift dress gave her an ethereal, slightly vulnerable presence. The tan – obviously fake, Beth now realised – had faded.
‘Hello Alex, hello Cara … Beth.’ Charlie had to lean to see her, hiding behind Cara. Beth gave a little wave.
‘Could we come in? There’s something we need to discuss with you,’ said Cara.
Charlie frowned and gripped the door handle. ‘It’s not a good time.’
‘It’s quite important, please,’ said Cara.
‘Can we discuss it here?’
‘Not really,’ said Cara, holding her ground.
‘All right.’ Charlie stood aside to let the women through.
It was years since Beth had been in the house. Was it Christmas drinks one year that the Pezzullos had hosted? Anyway, she remembered it as a gleaming white modern box inside, with blond-wood furniture and fresh white lilies at every turn.
It wasn’t like that any more. There was a sense of weariness about the place, maybe because it had been empty for all those months? Or was it the mess now scattered about the place, towers of still-taped packing boxes, and piles of paper and magazines strewn about everywhere? It was not what she had expected of Charlie Devine. Not at all. Three weeks should have been enough time for anyone to unpack their belongings and get a house in order. Her eye was drawn to a notepad, sitting on top of a particularly large pile of papers. Her brain pinged with recognition. There was something familiar about it …
‘I wasn’t expecting visitors,’ said Charlie, as if reading her mind. ‘We’re still getting sorted. All I can offer you is a green tea or an acai juice.’
‘No, thank you,’ said Cara. ‘I wanted to talk to you about what you said this morning, about Nourish, and the unforeseen threats we might face.’
A look of surprise scudded across Charlie’s face. ‘I didn’t mean anything, really, just that being in business is difficult and you need to keep your wits about you.’
‘But why would you say that?’ Cara insisted. ‘Why this morning?’
‘No particular reason,’ said Charlie. ‘I was just making conversation. Being friendly. That’s what people do in this street, don’t they?’
Her voice was even and unreadable. That Cuthbert Close was a friendly place was surely a positive? But Charlie’s tone gave it an air of criticism. Seemingly it wasn’t just Beth she needed distance from, it was everyone in the street.
‘You see, Charlie,’ said Alex, ‘Cara and Beth here had a visit from the food safety inspector today, and he’s shut down their business because of a complaint from a neighbour.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Charlie’s fingers went to her chest.
Cara, Beth and Alex waited. Charlie’s eyes moved from face to face.
Alex cleared her throat. ‘We think maybe the complaint came from you.’
Charlie’s eyes widened and she blinked quickly. ‘It wasn’t me. I have no interest in seeing your business close down.’
‘C’mon, Charlie, it’s obvious. You see Cara and Beth as a threat. You basically said as much. Now, all we’re asking is that you ring the council and withdraw the complaint,’ cajoled Alex.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I think it might be time for you to leave,’ said Charlie, sounding defensive.
Beth went to stand. She wanted nothing more than to leave. Something was … off. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry to disturb.’ As she rose the front door to the Devines’ house swung open, bringing in a blast of cooler air from outside.
‘Mum! Mum!’ The voice was quavering, panicked.
All four women stood, with Charlie leading the rush towards the doorway. It was Talia, and she was holding something in her hand. Something that looked like … like hair. Human hair. Curly human hair.
Beth gasped.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Talia whimpered.
Cara stepped closer.
‘It’s Poppy’s,’ she said, her voice high and strangled.