Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
“You know,” Bradley says, after following Neil to his car. “I think that guy might have a crush on you.”
I stare at him for a second, then burst out laughing.
“This is so embarrassing,” I say, wiping my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been scared this might happen.”
“Scared is an interesting word.” He watches me open my mouth, then close it again. “You don’t need to tell me anything, by the way. Just know that I’m here for you.”
“It’s not like that. Neil never hurt me. He just wouldn’t give up. Not about anything. I don’t know how to explain. I felt like I was stuck in some kind of mental finger trap, and the more I struggled, the more impossible it seemed to ever leave.”
I look down at my palms. I first met Neil just after Mom’s funeral, at her church in the city, which I’d taken to attending as a way of remembering her.
He immediately started courting me. As I learned later on, I was precisely what he was looking for.
Quiet, pretty, naive. Someone he could shape like wet clay.
It worked, too. He did change me, though not quite into the polished lawyer’s wife he wanted. I was stubbornly attached to my own freedoms, my own opinions, my own inner life.
“What if he comes back?”
“There are cameras at the entrance to the property. How do you think I knew he was here?”
“What if that doesn’t stop him?”
“Seriously, I’m not worried. We’re safe here. Besides, what can he do to me that my own employer hasn’t done?”
He smiles at me, and I start laughing so hard that a bubble of snot forms under my nose. “Oh shit.” I wipe it and then shake my head, laughing even more. “This is so embarrassing.”
“You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.” There it is, the disarming sincerity. “Well, he’s not going to scare me away. Besides, it’s good to have competition.” He walks closer to me, holds out his hand, then pulls me into a hug. “As friends, of course.”
“This is how you hug your friends?”
“Of course. I’m a very affectionate person, you know.”
He pulls me closer, and I feel it again, what I felt last night, what I’d blamed on the alcohol.
“Bradley,” I say in protest, and he pulls away.
“Speaking of friendly gestures, I’ve made us some dinner.”
“Dinner?” I check my watch. “Whoa. It’s already after six.”
“Time flies when you’re rekindling a romance.”
“That was not rekindling!” I slap him on the shoulder, but it’s like a butterfly swatting a concrete wall, and he doesn’t budge. “That was harassment.”
“Sorry, bad joke.”
I look up at him, this improbably handsome and educated man. He’s like a transplant from another era, when men read books and dressed for dinner.
“That’s very sweet of you.” I give him a push. “Wait outside while I get changed.”
“Are you sure? I could give you some friendly advice on what to wear. Or what not to wear. So to speak.”
“Out!”
I quickly wash my face and put on the minimal amount of makeup I have.
Within a few minutes, I’ve successfully managed to transform into someone who didn’t just have a nervous breakdown.
I search through my clothes, but all I have is my one blue dress.
It’s not dirty, and it’s better than the trackpants or shorts I’d be wearing otherwise.
I quickly change, then brush my hair. It’s hardly the most radical transformation, but when I’m finished, Bradley lets out a low wolf whistle.
“You look astonishing. I’m astonished.”
“My English teacher at school would call that hyperbole.”
“Not when you look like this. I’m just speaking the truth.”
He leads me outside, and as we walk through the covered trail, I feel like we’re the guard of honor at the end of our wedding. I picture rice falling behind us, a bridesmaid clutching a bouquet, the cheers of friends and family.
I shake my head. Where did that come from?
“What is it?” Bradley asks as we exit the trail onto the driveway. The night is still and calm, and I feel, suddenly, like a wild horse facing an open gate. All of life is ahead of me, and it’s entirely unknown. I can go anywhere and do anything.
It’s a new feeling, and I like it.
“I’m just—” I trail off, unsure how to say it.
I can sense him looking down at me as we approach the house. “I know. I know exactly how you feel. Sometimes there aren’t words. You can’t eff the ineffable. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“Eff the ineffable? Is that a curse word?”
The floorboards creak as I climb the steps to his front door, as if registering a complaint. The house knows I don’t belong here. I’m a foreigner, a virus, a volatile compound.
“Just bastardizing an old quote. Come, come.” He leads me through to the dining room. A lit candelabra sits on the table.
“Sorry, it might be a bit cold by now. I wasn’t expecting our friend Neil to pop over.”
“Don’t call him that.”
“Yes, my little bird.”
“Ew. And definitely don’t call me that.”
“Darling?”
“No, no,” I say, sitting at a plate of fish and salad. “Don’t call me any of that.”
“Why not? Too cringe?”
He sits next to me—and suddenly the voice I thought I’d suppressed gets loud again. My conscience.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just never done this before,” I say quietly, and immediately feel embarrassed. I look down at the fish. “I don’t know how to act. I’d like to be the cool girl who bangs everyone’s boyfriend without a care in the world. But it’s just not me.”
“Stop apologizing! It’s me who should be sorry. I dragged you into this mess.”
“You didn’t drag anyone.” I take my knife and fork and begin to attack my fish. I’m suddenly starving. “I don’t know what that was. I think my brain is playing tricks on me. You’re being too nice.”
“Brie, I’m not just being nice. I’ll respect your wishes, of course, but you should know, I genuinely feel something for you. I like you. A lot.”
I make a face. “You’re just a horny old man. You’ll forget about me by the end of the summer.”
“Don’t say that!” He waits until I look up at him. “I know I said we can be friends, but you should know that I honestly want to see where this goes. Seriously. I know it’s messy right now, but it won’t be for much longer.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m going to get a divorce as soon as possible.”
I know I shouldn’t believe him—and not necessarily because he’s lying, but because marriages are deep and complex, and it’s never as simple as just ‘getting a divorce’.
He’s intoxicated with me because I’m young and pretty and here, and he’s making promises that he’ll inevitably regret.
Even if he does what he says, Grace will be in his life for a long time.
He shifts back to his seat, and we eat the rest of the meal in silence. As soon as I’m finished, he takes my hand.
“Stay here. You can stay the night in a real bed,” he says. “I’ll keep my hands to myself. You can sleep in the spare room.”
I laugh, but then pull my hand away. It feels dangerous, but also precisely what I need. After seeing the notebook in Grace’s attic and Neil turning up, I have no desire to spend the night alone in the cottage.
“Definitely the spare room,” I say, hoping it sounds definitive. “But I need to get some stuff first.”
“Like what?”
“Like a toothbrush, you maniac.” I get up and move through to the living room, where I pause at the shelves. The baseball cap, the feather, the pen. They don’t fit with the rest of the room. “What is all this stuff, by the way?”
“That’s Grace’s psychopath collection.”
“Come again?”
“These are items once owned by serial killers. She’s fascinated by them. Always has been.”
“Sounds healthy.”
“Oh, believe me, it’s far from healthy. But it’s her job.”
“Uh huh.” I stand transfixed in front of the baseball cap. It’s blue, and there’s an eagle stitched just above the brim. How many women died staring at that eagle?
“Bradley, I’ve been meaning to ask you a question. What happened to Caroline Churchwell?”
“Caroline? She worked for us. Years ago. Why?”
“She came up in Grace’s search results. It said she disappeared.”
“Oh, that! She left without telling anyone, I think. There was a bit of stress from her parents, but it was all a mix-up.”
“Oh, OK.” I wish I had read the article, but my phone died before I had a chance. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Don’t be long. I’ll be waiting for you.” He squeezes my hand and mouths naked, and against my will, I laugh.
“Bradley!”
“Kidding! Mostly.”
I walk back along the driveway alone. It’s finally getting dark, but despite everything that happened today, I’m not scared.
With Bradley’s explanation of Caroline, it’s as if he’s cast a spell and made all the stress and worry of the day disappear.
I can hear the final calls of the thrush and robin.
Through the canopy, I can make out the glow of a new moon.
The world is bigger than I ever imagined it could be.
Why didn’t I know that life could be like this?
That it could all be this intense? I feel like I’ve wasted so much time grinding away, because I thought that’s all life was—an unceasing series of hardships, until you die.
But it isn’t. It can be more, so much more.
The cottage emerges from the dark wood like an abandoned spacecraft, its aluminum roof glowing silver in the moonlight. Christ, even this dilapidated shack looks strangely beautiful tonight. Bradley, what have you done to me? What have you done to the world?
I open the front door and walk across the room to my torch.
I switch it on, then swing it around the room to find my toothbrush—and immediately let out a scream. The torch drops to the floor and rolls under the bed, casting the room in a dim, eerie glow.
“Brie-like-the-cheese. You’re home at last.”