I sit by the pool, sipping red wine, nibbling olives from a jar for dinner, my puffy coat zipped right up to the neck. It’s not the warmest of evenings, the winter oaks startled-looking, the threat of frost in the mist, yet I’m aware that my days doing this are numbered, so I’ve taken to sitting out here whenever I can.
It only occurred to me recently that all those years I thought this was my favorite spot because it was near the palm trees, or the perfect position to watch Will and Alice. Whereas in fact I was like a dog grieving its master, resting loyally near the handprints he left behind.
In the driveway, the for-sale sign gleams. Jam is handling it—assured me that although this time of year is typically slow, a property like this will sell in a flash. I’m hoping that’s the case, that it slips away, a well-oiled transaction. I’ve already started sorting out the attic; ordering removal boxes; house hunting.
Shifting position, I pull the blanket higher up my legs, thinking of how I was sitting like this the first time I met Ellis. It’s been one month since I heard from her. I’m praying she’s gone for good. Yet, the silence feels eerie, too good to be true.
I gaze over at the side gate instinctively, looking for her, taking a long drink of wine. Above me, a couple of bats circle against the inky sky. In the distance, the sea shifts, whispers.
I don’t know how I know it’s going to happen, but I do. Somehow, I was waiting for it all along, like I always knew this moment was going to come.
Beside me, the metal table buzzes, vibrates, as a message appears. Slowly reaching for my phone, putting on my reading glasses, a nasty feeling shrouds me—the same dread that I felt the last time I saw her.
It’s from a withheld number.
There’s no message, no words. Just an audio clip.
My heart’s going so fast it hurts. I consider throwing my phone across the lawn, into the darkness. I don’t have to engage with her. I can block it; delete. But I’m not going to do that.
I press Play.
There’s a rumbling, rustling sound: background noise of Rumors, and the sea. And then her voice.
So you’re sure about this? Because once we press go, there’ll be no going back.
My response is muffled, distant.
Yes. I want him to pay for what he’s done.
Her voice is a lot closer than mine.
Because this guy won’t mess around, you understand?
I picture her, recording this conversation, her phone concealed. Keeping it as collateral if things went wrong. Which they did.
He’ll kill him, Gabby. With no trace. And that’s definitely what you want?
I hold my breath, waiting for myself to reply.
And it’s then that I remember what I said, what happened that night. The memory is so vivid I hear the words before my recorded voice says them.
One hundred percent… Do it… I want him dead.
Hanging my head, I stop the recording.
My mind whirls back through that night, every detail, no dark corners, no blank spots. Just the ugly horrendous truth.
I wished him dead and then we planned it.
Gripping my phone, my knuckles whiten. I don’t know if I really meant it—was confused, frightened, devastated the day Alice left—but Ellis did. She meant it, recorded this, held me to account, took me at my word.
I don’t know how I’m ever going to forgive myself, how I’ll ever get over witnessing her stabbing that man—the sight of Fred on the verge of death. But I know that when it came to it, I saved him. I didn’t hesitate, not for one second.
There has to be some good in that, in me. Doesn’t there?
I’m wondering what to do with the recording, about to delete it, when a message appears.
Let me know how Mom is when you see her x
She’s going to hold this over me for the rest of my life. I’ll never be free of her. I’ll forever regret the night I went to Rumors, tried to drink away my empty nest and marriage, and made a pact with the devil.
The palm trees rustle, the baby oaks shivering as a breeze sweeps across the garden from the sea. I draw my blanket closer, the awnings rattling and shaking behind me, and I gaze up at the night sky, a canopy of darkness that seems closer now, bearing down on me. And then there’s a noise and I jump, staring in horror at the side gate.
But there’s no one there.
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