‘I’ve got an idea,’ I said to Jem at the weekend.
She was sitting at the kitchen table wearing a unicorn onesie and staring blearily into a bowl of cereal.
‘Is it to go back to bed?’
I laughed. ‘No, and if you’re tired you should have gone to bed earlier instead of staying up watching Netflix. You knew you had a rehearsal today.’
She rolled her eyes at me. ‘What’s the idea then?’
‘It’s October now, right?’
‘Riiiight.’
‘And this is the witch’s cottage, right?’
‘Get to the point, Mum.’
‘I think we should decorate the house for Halloween.’
‘Already?’
‘Why not? It’ll be fun.’ And, I couldn’t help thinking, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. I hoped that the writing on our fence had been a silly prank and if so, I wanted to show whoever had done it, that I was in on the joke. That we loved the fact our cottage had once been a home for witches, and we were going to make the most of it. I pushed away the fear that the graffiti had been aimed at me. No one knew who we were. No one cared. That was all in the past, and I wanted to think about the future.
‘When you say decorate …’
‘I mean, let’s go all out,’ I said. I’d not been sleeping very well so I’d had lots of time to think about it. ‘We can go to that big cash and carry place and get loads of stuff. They’ve got fake gravestones and skeletons and all sorts. We can do spiders’ webs on the windows, and prop a broomstick up at the front door.’
‘We could make a cauldron,’ said Jem looking more awake finally. ‘And each evening when it’s getting dark we could put some tea lights inside so it glows.’
‘Nice.’
Jem was grinning. ‘Cassie says everyone makes a real effort at Halloween here. She said some of the houses have themes like Stranger Things or Nightmare on Elm Street. And there’s a big Halloween party at school too.’
‘Sounds fun.’
‘Can we go and get the stuff this afternoon?’ Jem said eagerly. ‘After my rehearsal?’
‘If you like.’
‘Amazing.’ She stood up and put her bowl on the side, next to the dishwasher. I glared at her.
‘Sorry,’ she sang. She opened the dishwasher and shoved the bowl inside before shutting it with her unicorn-clad bum. ‘I promise I’ll remember next time.’
But as she sashayed away, she made sure I saw her fingers, crossed behind her back. I laughed as she disappeared up the stairs, practising her witchy cackle as she went. Jem had been given the part of one of the three witches in Macbeth, as well as various other roles including being a soldier covered in foliage marching from Burnham Wood to Dunsinane. I was pleased she was involved in the play, but I had to admit, hearing her rehearsing her screech in her bedroom didn’t help calm my nerves, which were still frazzled after discovering the graffiti.
Once Jem had headed off to school, where the rehearsal was taking place even though it was Saturday, I was at a bit of a loose end. It was cold outside, but sunny, so I thought I might go for a walk along the beach. ‘Blow away the cobwebs,’ I said out loud, mimicking Jem’s cackle. God, I was losing my marbles. Perhaps Eva was right and I did need more of a social life. I wasn’t sure how you were meant to make friends as a grown-up. I didn’t really see much of other Haven staff during the week, because we were all shut in our own little rooms, seeing our own clients. And we were always so busy that there wasn’t time to chat. In fact, the only person I saw regularly at the Haven was Mandy, who’d made it clear she wasn’t keen on making small talk with me at work, let alone inviting me to join her social circle. I didn’t have a baby group to go to, or school gates to chat at. Maybe I needed a hobby. I should definitely find out if there was a running club. Or yoga classes perhaps. That could be something to do.
I wrapped up, with my scarf round my neck, and wandered off towards the sea. The beach was just a stone’s throw from our house, so I was there in no time. It wasn’t busy today. There were just a few dog walkers standing in a group chatting while their mutts ran in and out of the waves, and a couple of hardy parents with little ones, huddled in their coats and watching their children digging in the sand.
I walked all the way along, as far as I could go to where there was a crop of rocks. I’d heard there had once been cliffs there that had tumbled into the sea. Now there was just a rocky barrier that stopped me going further. It was nice there, with the smell of the salty air in my nostrils. My cheeks were rosy with the wind and I was warm despite the cold weather. The birds overhead swooped and swirled on the thermals and out at sea I could see a huge oil tanker slowly making its way north. I liked it here. I liked living by the beach.
I turned back and walked along the way I’d come, considering taking off my shoes and socks and dipping my toes in the water. But then I thought about how cold it was and changed my mind.
As I reached the stairs back up to the street a shout made me look around. And there, coming along the street from the direction of our house, was Rory.
‘Thought it was you,’ he said as he reached me. ‘Been for a walk?’
‘Making the most of living by the sea,’ I said.
‘Clears the head, doesn’t it?’ He nodded vigorously. ‘I like to get out every day.’
He was wearing jogging bottoms and a fleece with a padded gilet over the top. He looked sporty and full of health.
‘Have you been running?’ I said, wondering if he was in a running club. But he shook his head.
‘I just like to walk. I find I see more when I’m walking. I like watching the birds and the boats and the colours in the sea.’
I was amused and impressed. He didn’t seem the poetic type. ‘It’s easy to miss things when you see them every day, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘I used to work in an office that had the most wonderful view of Edinburgh Castle, but I kept the blind shut most of the time.’ I frowned now, wondering why I’d done that.
‘Well, it was good to see you,’ Rory said.
I thought about going back to my empty house, and on a whim I said: ‘I was going to grab a coffee. Fancy joining me?’
Rory tilted his head and looked at me. ‘I don’t drink coffee.’
My cheeks flamed with humiliation. ‘Not to worry,’ I said awkwardly. ‘I’ll head off then …’
‘But I’ll come for a cup of tea,’ Rory added quickly. ‘That would be nice.’
I was relieved and pleased. ‘I like the café beside the sea-life centre,’ I said. ‘Shall we go there?’
‘“Then lead on, Macduff”,’ he said.
‘Jem’s doing Macbeth at school,’ I said as we walked away from the beach.
‘I was rubbish at Shakespeare.’ Rory gave me a little wonky smile. ‘I was rubbish at most things at school.’
‘Except woodwork, presumably,’ I pointed out and he laughed.
‘Except that.’
I got the drinks and we sat down and chatted about the town mostly. I told him about our plans to decorate the house for Halloween and he told me more about the houses that went all out for the festivities.
‘One year, one of the houses down the far end did a Jaws theme. It honestly had a shark sticking out of its roof,’ he said, with a chuckle. ‘And another one just had a silhouette of a woman in a rocking chair in the window, like Psycho.’
‘How creative,’ I said. ‘We were planning on classic Halloween stuff. Gravestones and witches and ghosts.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘Actually I should go,’ I said, checking the time on my phone. ‘Jem will be home from rehearsal soon. Thanks for this though. It was nice to get out. I don’t know many people here yet.’
‘Maybe we could do it again sometime?’
I stood up and pulled on my coat, wondering if he meant as a date or just as friends. Urgh, this was awkward. ‘I’m, erm …’ I said. Nice one, Tess. ‘I mean, I’ve not really dated anyone since my divorce. I’m not sure I’m ready for anything …’
‘Oh, gosh, me neither,’ Rory said, standing up too. ‘I’m busy with work and happy as I am. I just enjoyed your company and thought we could hang out again sometime.’
He looked straight at me, and I felt a stirring of something deep inside. ‘I had a nice time,’ I said. ‘It would be good to do it again.’
Rory leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. It was strange, I thought, being so physically close to a man again. But I liked it.
‘You’ve got my number,’ he said. ‘Give me a call.’
‘I will.’
*
I wandered home feeling quite pleased with myself. I’d made a friend, I thought. Well done me.
But my thoughts trailed off as I reached our house and saw something outside.
‘What’s that?’ I said out loud. I tutted. Had Jem started the decorating without me?
A little pissed off that she couldn’t have just waited and wondering where she’d got the decorations from, I hurried over to the cottage and stopped with a gasp at the front gate.
Hanging from the front porch was a life-size model of a witch – complete with pointy hat and black and purple striped tights. Around her neck was a noose and she dangled in a grimly realistic fashion, toes scraping the ground as she swayed in the wind.
‘Urgh,’ I said aloud. ‘Too much, Jem.’
Feeling a bit silly, I edged round the horrible creature and opened the front door. ‘Jem!’ I shouted. There was no reply. I put my bag down and went into the living room. ‘Jem?’
Back in the hall, I called up the stairs, but the house was quiet. ‘Weird,’ I muttered. I went back outside and stared at the hanging witch. Somehow she looked even creepier now. I shuddered.
‘You couldn’t wait?’ Jem appeared behind me on the path.
I turned, revealing the witch in all her glory. ‘What’s this?’
Jem made a face. ‘Urgh, Mum. That’s awful.’
‘You didn’t do this?’
‘No.’ She hitched her bag up her shoulder. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘No. Of course not. It’s horrible.’
‘So if you didn’t put it up, and I didn’t put it up, who did?’
I felt sick. Was this another message after the graffiti? Someone had called me a witch in horrible red paint, and now they were showing what happened to witches? My hands were sweaty and I wiped them on my jeans, trying to keep calm. ‘Maybe it’s a prank,’ I said, staring at the macabre model.
Jem grinned. ‘OMG I bet it’s like a thing.’
‘What kind of thing?’ My voice sounded quivery to my own ears and I hoped Jem hadn’t noticed.
‘Like because this is the witch’s cottage, all the goths and weirdos come here round Halloween and do creepy stuff.’
I breathed out in relief. That actually made perfect sense.
‘Remember there’s that tiny witch memorial near Edinburgh Castle?’ Jem said. ‘Heather at the museum told me that people leave wee offerings there for the women who died. Maybe this is similar.’ She looked up at the swinging witch. ‘A slightly gruesome tribute.’
I felt dizzy with relief. Of course! Of course this wasn’t personal. ‘I think you might be on to something there, Jemima,’ I said. ‘Though I’d rather they’d have left some thistles or something. What kind of weirdo would think this was appropriate?’
She shrugged. ‘There’s loads of kids like that at school,’ she said, examining the witch’s legs in her stripy tights. ‘They like hang out in the graveyard and listen to the worst music.’
‘Do you think they would be offended if we took her down?’ I said laughing. I felt a bit hysterical now I could believe that this wasn’t another death threat. ‘I can’t have her swinging in front of our door until Halloween – it’s weeks away.’
‘We can move her,’ Jem said. ‘Make her part of our decorations. We can have a witch theme.’
‘Good idea. Shall we head out to the shop then? Get some more bits?’
Even though Jem’s theory had reassured me, I suddenly wanted to be away from this swaying mannequin.
‘Let’s go,’ Jem said. ‘I’ve got some really good ideas.’