Chapter 24

Tess

I hated rowing with Jem, and I was a little ashamed that she’d seen me so rattled, but as I sat and ate pizza with Rory, I felt the stress easing. Jem didn’t seem to be upset – not now I’d seen how silly it was to run away. Though she didn’t eat any pizza. Mind you, we’d been to McDonald’s so perhaps she genuinely was full up. It was also quite nice to spend time with Rory. I was glad he’d popped round on the off-chance.

It was still early when Jem said she was knackered and was off to bed. I gave her a suspicious glance, because she’s always been a night owl. Was she making herself scarce so I could spend some time with Rory? But she gazed back at me with innocent eyes so perhaps she was just tired. She trotted off upstairs with little Hermione following behind.

‘She loves that cat,’ Rory said, watching them go.

‘She does.’ I waved the bottle of wine at him. ‘Top-up?’

‘Thank you.’

I poured us both more wine. ‘I’m glad you came over,’ I said. ‘It’s been quite a week and it’s nice to chill out and not have to cook.’

‘I just thought it was ages until we were having dinner and it might be nice to catch up.’ He raised his glass to me and grinned as he held my gaze for a long moment. Again I felt that fluttering sensation in my stomach and I pulled my eyes away from his, hiding my embarrassment by swigging my own glass.

‘Jem’s a great girl,’ Rory said.

‘We have our moments,’ I said. ‘It’s not all plain sailing.’

‘I wish …’ he began then stopped talking.

‘You wish?’

He looked thoughtful and more than a little sad. ‘It’s funny how things work out, isn’t it?’

I wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. He’d never actually told me if he had children, but I had assumed he didn’t. Now I wondered. Perhaps he’d not seen his children since his divorce. Or he’d had a child who’d died? Or experienced some other heartbreak. I didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t comfortable with, so instead I just smiled.

‘Life’s what happens when you’re making other plans,’ I said.

Was it my imagination, or had Rory moved a little closer to me along the sofa? I was very aware of him, suddenly. I could feel the warmth of him.

‘I’ve had a lovely evening,’ he said.

‘Me too.’ I swallowed. With surprise, I realized I wanted him to kiss me, but I was also scared that he might try. I felt the tension crackle between us like static electricity, and then Rory shifted along a tiny bit and stood up.

‘I should go,’ he said.

I felt relieved and disappointed at the same time.

‘Busy weekend?’

‘I’ve got a job tomorrow morning, and I’m meeting some friends in Edinburgh to watch the football later on.’ He put on his coat. ‘What about you?’

‘Jem’s got rehearsal tomorrow morning and then her friend Cassie is having a family party in the evening. I’ve been invited too, actually.’

‘Sounds wild,’ he said, drily.

I chuckled. ‘I’ve not been very sociable since we’ve lived here and I wasn’t sure at first if I would go. But Eva says I should live a little.’ I didn’t want to say that I was also nervous about being alone in the house.

Rory nodded. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

I shuddered inwardly, thinking of the skeleton wearing my scarf. But outwardly I just smiled. ‘Shall we catch up after the weekend?’

‘I’d like that.’ He leaned towards me and kissed me on the lips. A chaste kiss, but it still had an immediate effect on me, sending blood rushing to my cheeks and making my stomach flip with desire.

I watched him saunter off down the road, then I went over to where Jem had dropped her tie and my scarf when she took them off the skeletons. I picked them up and threw them both in the washing machine. I felt vaguely foolish but I didn’t know where they’d been.

I was still wide awake so I got my laptop from my work bag and opened it up, scrolling through my emails to find the correspondence I’d had with the previous owners of our cottage. Then I wrote a quick note, telling them how well we’d settled in, mentioning the storm and what had happened to Jem’s window and the conservatory next door. Finally I added: We discovered our house is known locally as the witch’s cottage – much to Jem’s delight. And we wondered if that’s the reason we keep coming home to find Halloween decorations outside. I described the witch and the skeletons and then finished by saying: Jem thought that perhaps this is a thing that happens every year, so we wondered if you’d had the same when you lived here?

Satisfied that my daughter was right and that this was a regular happening, I shut my computer and went to bed.

*

I was going to Cassie’s family party mostly because Jem was full of chatter about Callum, and a boy called Max that Cassie liked – though Jem didn’t think much of him – and her friends from the play, and lots of them, including Callum, were going to be at the party.

‘Muuum,’ Jem warned, as we got ready to leave. ‘Please don’t embarrass me.’

She was wearing skinny jeans and a drapey black T-shirt and Converse. I wasn’t sure she was dressed up enough for a party, but I didn’t say anything because I was just glad she wasn’t wearing an outfit like the ones I’d seen some of the girls from her school wearing.

I didn’t really have any party clothes either. I’d sold most of my fancy outfits when Al and I had divorced. They’d paid for quite a lot of the furniture for the cottage, in fact. So I just put on black trousers and a thin black jumper, blow-dried my hair properly for once and pulled it into a low bun, and accidentally put on quite a lot of make-up.

‘Have a I been a bit heavy-handed with the eyeliner?’ I asked Jem.

‘You look like you’re doing a tango on Strictly,’ she said, looking at me with a critical eye.

I shrugged. ‘That wasn’t what I intended, but I’ll go with it.’

Jem giggled. ‘Are you ready?’

‘I’ll just get my bag, and the bottle of wine.’

I felt stupidly nervous on the way to the party, like I was the teenager and Jem was the grown-up. Cassie’s mum – Andrea – opened the door and I gave her the little gift bag I’d brought, containing some fancy soap and hand cream and a birthday card and she beamed at me.

‘Thank you so much,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely to meet you, finally. Cassie’s told me lots about you. Come on in.’

Jem had said that Cassie’s house was welcoming and I saw what she meant. Within seconds, I was in the warm lounge, glass of wine in my hand, being introduced to Andrea’s friends.

‘I know you,’ one woman said, smiling broadly. ‘You work at the Haven.’

‘Just a couple of days a week.’

‘You helped my sister get her deposit back from her landlord.’

I frowned, thinking. ‘Claire?’ I said. ‘Lived in a flat over a shop?’

‘That’s the one. She was in a bad way,’ the woman explained to the other people nearby. ‘She’d been suffering from depression and she wanted to move, but she couldn’t until she got her money back. I’m not sure what would have happened if she hadn’t.’

Ah, now I remembered the details. ‘Is she on the mend now, Claire?’

‘Getting there,’ the woman said. She stuck her hand out for me to shake. ‘I’m Sally, by the way. My daughter’s at school with Cassie and your Jem.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ I said.

An older man touched my arm gently and I turned.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said politely. ‘I wanted to say hello. I’m Sidney. I believe we are mutual friends of Eva Greenbaum.’

I was delighted. ‘She lives next door to me,’ I said. ‘She’s wonderful.’

‘She thinks the same of you. She’s told me how helpful you are and that she values your company.’

‘She’s a good friend,’ I said. ‘How do you know Eva?’

‘We play bridge,’ he said. Then he leaned towards me and added: ‘That’s what we tell people we’re doing, but actually we drink whisky and put the world to rights.’

‘That sounds like a lot of fun,’ I said. ‘And very Eva.’

I was just thinking how nice everyone was and how silly I’d been to worry, when in walked Mandy from the Haven. She gave me a small, thin smile, and I saw her huddled in the corner with Andrea, both of them talking intently and not looking up.

What were they saying? I wondered. Were they talking about me? And then I caught myself being so very self-involved that even Alistair – who was the king of narcissism – would have been impressed. I was being ridiculous. Of course they weren’t talking about me. Why on earth would they be?

I got myself another glass of wine, and found Callum’s parents, who were both teachers and so nice that I stopped worrying that Callum could be the wrong boy for Jem and started hoping they’d get married one day.

We played some silly games, and ate the delicious party food Andrea had prepared. I drank more than I’d intended – not too much but just enough that my worries about the skeletons seemed to disappear. Cassie’s brother Drew put on an excellent playlist that he’d prepared and everyone danced – Sidney even tried to teach me how to tango, though he didn’t have much luck because I was definitely not Strictly material, despite my eyeliner. It was just a lovely evening, even if Andrea didn’t have much to say to me after Mandy had arrived – Mandy barely acknowledged me at all.

Jem and I walked home, much later than I’d expected, arm in arm.

‘So you think Callum’s nice?’ she said. ‘Really?’

‘He seems lovely.’ Callum had struck me as being very sweet, quite geeky and clearly smitten with Jem, which endeared him to me. ‘Is he your boyfriend now?’

‘No,’ she said, burying her face in my shoulder as we walked. ‘But I’d quite like him to be.’

I tousled her hair. ‘Just spend some time together and see what happens.’

‘Is that what you’re doing with Rory?’

‘Jem!’

‘I meant it when I said I don’t mind, you know,’ she said. She stopped walking and looked at me, her pretty face serious. ‘I do understand that Dad isn’t a good person, but you are, Mum.’

‘Oh, Jem.’ She was so young to know about the awful things grown-ups did to each other. ‘He let us both down.’

She bit her lip. ‘I’m just saying, you should be happy, Mum.’

I gave her a hug. ‘How did you end up so mature and thoughtful?’ I said.

‘Absolutely no idea,’ Jem said cheerfully. ‘My parents are both total screw-ups.’

We started walking again, both laughing. And then, as we approached the cottage, the glow from the streetlights shining on the white walls, my heart lurched with fear.

‘What the …’

‘Mum? What is that?’ Jem sounded very young as we both stared at the outside of our home. Its white frontage was splattered in dark red blood – across the windows, all over the brickwork and window frames. It looked like a crime scene.

I felt dizzy and put a hand on the front gate to steady myself. ‘I don’t know.’ I looked at Jem. ‘Stay here.’

She stood on the pavement, while I went up the path to the house. As the breeze blew I got a whiff of paint and, flooded with relief, I put my hand out to touch one of the splatters. ‘It’s paint,’ I said over my shoulder. ‘Red paint.’ Just like the graffiti, I thought to myself.

‘Shit, I thought it was blood,’ Jem said, coming to stand next to me. We both stared up at the cottage wall. ‘What a mess, though, Mum.’

‘It’s a disaster.’ I felt close to tears as I looked at the devastation, the paint starkly contrasting with the bright white walls. ‘Why would anyone do this to us?’