Chapter 7
Seven
Gemma
I wonder if Ethan is right and I’m reading far too much into that note. After settling Cora, we agreed that I’d forget the note and give this place a chance.
I turn my attention to the hamper. Cora has left the settee and keeps tugging at my jumper so I call Ethan. ‘Can you take her for a minute?’
He picks her up and wipes her runny nose. ‘Maybe we can all dress in our warm clothes and go out for a walk before I start work. We should explore the area a little,’ he says.
‘There’s nothing around here.’
‘I’d like to go for a walk in the woods.’
I stiffen. ‘No, I told you it’s dangerous and it’s not pushchair friendly. I don’t want to go in the woods.’
‘But that’s half the fun.’ He smiles and kisses me. ‘Come on, I know we’re here to work but we can have a bit of fun along the way.’
Ethan heads to the living room area and turns the TV on, and the sound of animals singing in a cartoon distracts Cora. I open the biscuits and sink my teeth into one. Whoever made these has used real butter and it’s like velvet on my tastebuds. I’m anxious and feel sick but my cravings win.
Ethan thinks the note seems neighbourly and when I voiced that it seems threatening, he had the nerve to call me paranoid.
Maybe I am. I mean, who would want me to fall off a balcony like Aunt Dorette did?
I think of the woman in the long white coat and I wonder if she left the hamper, because we both know what happened in those woods.
I let out a long, slow breath and place the mucky potatoes straight into the sink, ready to wash.
There is a huge cabbage that’s yellowing at the edges.
It’s covering most of what’s underneath it.
With my fingers pincered, I scrunch my nose and pop it in the washing-up bowl too.
That’s when I see the pile of parsnips. I start throwing them in the sink as I look out the window.
Morgan is kicking snow on the pavement and staring up the road.
I can’t see what she’s looking at but I can tell she’s upset.
Her shoulders are hunched but rigid, like she’s tense.
I shriek as I squish something cold and slimy between my fingers. On looking down, I drop the squashed worm and instantly start running the tap to get rid of the revolting mess on my hands.
‘What’s up?’ Ethan shouts over the singing on the TV.
‘Just a worm in the veg.’ My gaze darts from my hands to the hamper, and underneath, where the parsnip was, is a folded-up bit of newspaper.
I dry my hands and open it up. As soon as I see what it’s about, I feel like the breath is being sucked out of me.
I can’t let Ethan see this so I shove it in my pocket.
That note was threatening. I’m sure of that now, but I can’t talk to Ethan or anyone.
As Ethan goes to put Cora down, she starts crying over the top of the singing animals. I take the newspaper article back out of my pocket and feel a pricking at my neck as I read a few lines.
Has anyone seen Jasmine Slater? If anyone has any information as to her whereabouts, please call us on this number.
It’s dated two weeks after I left Clover House all those years ago.
I flinch as Cora cries. Her shrieks, the article and the note – they’re all too much for me. The room is swaying as I get a little giddy. Ethan stands up so I screw the article up and throw it in the bin.
‘What the hell?’ Ethan goes over to the box, lifts up another parsnip and there are a couple more worms.
‘Just get rid of the lot,’ I say.
My little girl cries for me so I scoop her up. I can’t watch as Ethan deals with the problem. ‘Can you please bin the veg that I’ve put in the sink?’ I ask with a quiver in my voice.
‘But it’s okay. There’s nothing on it. I’m checking now.’
Tears slither down my cheeks. ‘I don’t want any of it in our home.
Throw out the rest of the biscuits too and the hamper and card.
’ The biscuits. What if a worm touched them?
I begin to lick the back of my hand to remove any residue of those biscuits off my tongue.
I feel really sick now because whoever is behind the hamper really wanted to upset me.
I think of Tessa bringing the flowers over.
Did she used to live around here all those years ago, and was the hamper her doing?
Ethan heads out of the door and downstairs. A few moments later, he’s back. ‘It’s all gone. Shame about the biscuits. They looked good.’
He swills his hands. ‘I know you’re worried but think about it.
We haven’t been here long enough for anyone to even bear a grudge.
When I worked on the apartment, everyone seemed really nice and one of the neighbours gave us flowers, didn’t she?
Give this place a chance and forget the hamper.
It’s gone.’ He places a hand on my shoulder and kisses my head.
I reach up and hug him because I want to feel safe and warm in his arms.
If only it was that easy to forget. I’ve been here before and I know the people around here. Returning has obviously brought memories back for someone.
I need to get out of here to clear my head. ‘Can we go for that walk?’
Ethan looks delighted at that prospect. He’s on his feet, taking Cora from my arms before prising her octopus limbs into her snowsuit. Maybe I can take him to the lake, the complete opposite direction to the woods, and far enough away from this house to digest what’s happened.
Minutes later, I’m ready to go out. Ethan is opening up the pushchair by the main door as I pull my bobble hat over my head.
Hopefully, Morgan is still outside. A walk might help her too if she’s tense.
I picture her pacing up and down the path kicking snow.
As Ethan opens the main door and pushes Cora out, we almost bump into Morgan.
Her eyes are wide.
‘Squidge, has something happened?’
She doesn’t even tell me off for calling her that. When she’s upset, she takes comfort in her nickname. ‘It’s the neighbours, Mum. A man shouted at me.’ She hiccups a sob.
‘What?’ Ethan furrows his brows.
‘He said…’ She swallows and pauses. ‘How dare we send him a letter saying that his wife wanted to die to get away from him and he can’t park to save his life. And then one of the others piped up, the woman who gave us the flowers, and said she had a note and it said that her husband would rather?—’
‘What?’ The skin on my knuckles is stretched taut by now and I can see that Ethan’s is too. How dare these people upset our daughter.
Morgan looks like she’d rather be anywhere else right now. ‘She said that you said her husband would rather…it begins with f. He would rather f you.’