2010
Natalie was exhausted. It had been a long, but productive, day. Her parents, Molly and Peter, had arrived after lunch to help with the unpacking and between them all they’d unpacked every box. Looking around the sitting room, Natalie was amazed at what had been achieved. Books were stacked on shelves, along with photos and ornaments she had collected over the years. A Buddha from Thailand, a figure of a Maasai woman from Kenya, and small pieces of sculpture from London galleries. All that remained was to hang up her pictures, now stacked against one wall. The same was true of the downstairs study, furnished with new bookshelves and a sleek, glass topped desk. Her top of the range iMac gleamed, ready for business.
‘I think we deserve a drink, don’t you?’ her father said, coming up and putting his arm around her shoulder.
She turned and smiled. ‘You bet! You and Mum have been amazing; I couldn’t have got anything like as much done on my own. Sit down and I’ll get a bottle from the fridge.’ She collected three glasses and the bottle of champagne, chilling since early morning.
With a practised movement, she eased the cork out and laughed as the wine bubbled over the top. She filled up the glasses and joined them on the enormous sofa. Peter cried, ‘Welcome back and good luck in your new home,’ as they clinked glasses.
Natalie took a sip and grinned. ‘Thanks, it’s good to be back. And in such an amazing house.’
Molly gave her a kiss. ‘You don’t know how happy we are you’re back for good. I don’t think either of us realised quite how much we missed you until you came home.’ Natalie noticed the tear in her mother’s eye and felt a pang of remorse. She had only done what so many of her generation had: made their lives on the mainland after graduating. Her brother Phil was settled in London, married and with a toddler. Another high-flyer as she had once been.
Her father coughed. ‘Well, the girl’s home now,’ he said, patting Molly’s arm. He smiled at Natalie. ‘And although it was lovely to have you staying with us the past few months, I’m glad you’re now in your own house. I was feeling a bit out-numbered with two women around all the time.’
Natalie laughed. ‘Liar! You loved every minute of it. I don’t think you made yourself a cup of tea or coffee the whole time I was there!’
Peter chuckled. ‘Okay, there were some advantages. But seriously, I think you’ve found yourself one hell of a house and I hope we get invited round fairly regularly so we can admire the view.’
‘Sure. Although it’s going to be a bit chaotic and noisy while the garden’s being sorted. Can’t say I’m looking forward to that,’ she said, sighing.
‘Nonsense. I think you’ll find it exciting seeing a proper garden emerge from the mess it is now. You’ll be at work during the day so you’ll come home to peace and quiet. And the design looks wonderful, doesn’t it, Peter?’
Her mother was right, as usual. She just didn’t like the idea of anything disturbing the tranquillity of this beautiful cottage. It was one of the attractions of the place. She stifled a yawn.
‘You’re tired. We’d better leave and let you get an early night. Don’t forget to eat that casserole I brought round. It won’t take long to heat up in the microwave.’ Molly rose and Peter joined her.
‘Thanks, Mum. Don’t worry, I’ll eat it. I’m famished.’
They kissed goodbye and left, her father saying he’d be round the next day to help hang the pictures. Natalie collected the glasses and the bottle of champagne and walked into the kitchen. Pouring another glass of the golden liquid, she took a sip before putting the casserole in the microwave. She took a plate and cutlery and set them on the breakfast bar, too tired to contemplate taking a tray outside. She would eat then go straight to bed. Glancing at her watch she saw it was almost nine o’clock. The light evenings were deceptive; she had thought it much earlier. The ping of the microwave announced the bringing to life of her meal and she scooped the coq au vin onto the plate, the wonderful aroma sending her gastric juices into overdrive.
The first mouthful told her it was one of her mother’s best offerings and she chewed slowly, savouring the taste of wine and herbs in the sauce. After Natalie finished the last of the casserole, she stayed to drink the rest of the champagne and it was as she raised her glass for a final sip that she heard it. A voice hissing in her ear, ‘Go away! Go.’ Terrified, she clutched the glass so hard the stem broke, cutting her hand. Slowly, her heart pounding, she turned round. There was no-one there.