Chapter 59 Leila
Leila
“Delilah? Is that you?”
I freeze in the dark hallway. Audrey’s frail little voice carries through the air like a bird tweeting first thing in the morning. It’s not that which scares me, but the name she calls out.
Opening the door to the lounge, I see she’s sitting on the sofa with a pink blanket over her knees.
“I know you weren’t expecting me tonight, Audrey. I’ve just come to collect something. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but you left the door unlocked again. You promised me you were going to start locking it.”
“I thought you were Delilah.”
There it is again.
It’s impossible to determine what’s real and what’s fantasy with Audrey. She flits so quickly from one to the other, often within the same sentence. But this feels real. I don’t believe in coincidences.
“Who’s Delilah, Audrey?”
“She’s the girl you’ve been sending over to help me.”
Time stands still. All the life in my body is sucked out in a split second. I become a shell, a decimated, lifeless, walking corpse.
She was here.
“What?” I whisper, my breath staggered.
“We went to the park together. And she keeps playing Tom Jones!”
“What does she look like?” I ask Audrey urgently.
“Black hair. One of those short bobs. I told her she wears too much lipstick.”
A tsunami of fear washes over my entire body. She’s not just close, she’s fucking here already.
“How long has she been coming?”
“Ooh, maybe a few weeks?”
“What has she been talking to you about, Audrey?”
“All sorts of things. She liked hearing all about you and Julian. I told her you got married in Italy. I showed her all your wedding photos.”
A chill runs down my spine when I think of her invading my life like this, having access to me after so many years. After everything that happened.
“But really, she spent a lot of time helping me tidy up the spare rooms.”
And suddenly it all becomes so obvious why she’s doing this. Why hadn’t I seen it before now? Her plan reveals itself to me with full clarity.
“The spare rooms?” I’m not sure how I manage to speak at all.
“Especially the small one at the front. She was in that one for a while.”
And just like that. Game over.
Keep calm.
Turning around, I leave the room and fumble for the light switch in the hallway. I flick it on and the huge chandelier bursts into illumination as I sprint up the stairs onto the landing.
The front bedroom door is unusually ajar.
My heart races at the possibility of what I will find.
The old mahogany wardrobe door is wide open.
Audrey’s dresses from years gone by are neatly lined up, displaying bright colors of swishy chiffon, peacock blue, hot pink, and canary yellow.
My eyes are drawn to a corner of the wardrobe floor.
Surrounded by old shoes sits a small metal box with a digital display on the front.
A safe.
I bought it on Saturday and had the locksmith attach it to the wardrobe.
I’m too late. She’s been in here.
I walk over, defeated. When I place my finger on the side of the safe door, it swings open without any resistance whatsoever. It’s empty, except for a piece of white paper with writing in black ink.
Rule #1: Don’t Get Caught