Holly leaned over the bannister rail and looked up the stairway towards the third floor of the townhouse. It had been a couple of hours since Victoria had left, and there was no sign that she intended to return.
Holly had never been upstairs. It seemed like a private space for the family. Somewhere she might not be welcome, especially if the look on Victoria’s face was anything to go by.
She’d tried calling up the stairs and even sent text messages, but she was met with stony silence.
Since Victoria had stormed off, Holly had finished preparing the meal and placed it in containers in the fridge. She’d then cleaned the kitchen and returned everything to the exact way she had found it.
Now she wondered what course of action to take. Going up the stairs seemed like a very bad idea. She’d just have to wait for Victoria to come down. Surely, she must be hungry? Or maybe she had a kitchen up there on one of the hundred floors? Or maybe her children had chocolate stashed away in their rooms? Holly grinned at the thought of Victoria raiding a child’s chocolate supply rather than coming downstairs.
Holly couldn’t imagine Victoria giving up easily. Deciding that she’d wasted enough time, she turned the lights off and started to head down to her basement guest area.
As she was halfway down the stairs, she heard a key in the front door. She stood still and listened to the noises in the darkness. She wondered if Victoria had somehow managed to evade her and left the house.
She crept up the stairs so she could hear if it was Victoria returning to the house or a murderer who happened to have a key.
She heard the door creak open and then close again with a small click.
Heels clacked across the hardwood floor towards Victoria’s study at the back of the house. Holly pressed herself against the bannister and held her breath as the person passed. She crept a little higher up the stairs and peeked through the spindles.
The streetlight filtered through the glass of the front door and cast a light on a young woman, dressed in a long coat. The woman placed something on the telephone table just outside of Victoria’s office. She straightened the flowers in the vase on the table and took a step back to evaluate the scene. She stepped forward again and moved a single bloom half a centimetre and then straightened whatever she had placed on the table top.
She nodded to herself and quickly turned around, glancing up the stairwell with much the same terror that Holly felt.
A few moments later, she was gone.
Holly climbed the stairs and walked over to the table. A large ring-bound book with ARRIVAL written in large letters across the front sat on the table.
She immediately recognised it as the famous Book, a mock-up of the next issue of Arrival. Apparently one of her jobs had been to wait late in the office for the final copy of the Book and then deliver it to Victoria at home. Victoria would then work on it overnight and return it the next morning with changes.
Holly picked up the Book, looked towards the stairs, and smiled a large, evil smile.
Holly felt herself being pulled back into consciousness. Despite her sleep-riddled mind, she clutched her precious cargo tighter to her chest.
She opened her eyes and saw Victoria standing over her, trying to pull the Book out from under her folded arms. Distractedly she wondered how much time had gone by since she sat in the comfortable armchair in Victoria’s office, holding the Book. Clearly a while if she had managed to fall into a deep sleep.
“Give me the Book,” Victoria mumbled. “You’re impossible.”
“Yep, I don’t remember much, but I do remember that much about me,” Holly agreed.
Victoria was leaning over her, using her height over the seated Holly as an advantage as she pulled on the Book. Holly held the Book in a full-body bear hug to prevent it from being taken.
“I need to work,” Victoria grunted in frustration.
“We need to talk,” Holly countered.
“There’s nothing to say.” Victoria released her grip on the Book and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring down at Holly.
“Yes, there is,” Holly argued. “I’ve upset you, and I want to apologise.”
“The best apology would be to give me the Book.” Victoria dived forward to grab it.
“I’m sorry that I remembered Izzy and not you,” Holly said. She gripped the Book with all her might. “It just came out. I don’t remember anything specific. Just in the heat of the moment, I knew her name.”
Victoria let go of the Book. She took a step back and sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Yes, I know,” she whispered.
Holly let out a small sigh of relief.
Finally, the editor was caving in. Willing to talk. Kind of.
“Although my memories aren’t flooding back, I am getting… sensations, feelings about things,” Holly explained. “I can’t explain, but I have this very strong feeling about you. I know you. I know you were important in my life.”
Victoria gave a derisive laugh but looked somewhat pleased to hear the admission.
“Remembering Izzy’s name means those memories must be in there somewhere, right? A part of the memory centre must still be functioning.” Holly smiled. “I’ll remember you, I promise.”
“No, no…” Victoria shook her head sadly. “You shouldn’t make such promises. You may not be able to do so. Yes, remembering Izzy’s name is positive news, but you have to take it one step at a time.”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Holly said softly.
“It’s been a trying day,” Victoria confessed.
Holly assumed that was as much of an apology as she’d ever get from the woman. Victoria looked tired and emotionally worn out.
“Would you like something to eat?” Holly asked, hoping to snag a few more minutes with her.
Victoria shook her head. She was clearly not ready to commit to full forgiveness just yet.
“No, thank you. I think I will have a look at the Book and then have an early night.”
Holly smiled sadly. She held the Book up, and Victoria accepted it with a grateful nod. She turned around and headed for the stairs.
“Good night, Victoria,” Holly whispered after her.