Chapter 17 #2
‘The producer you met never wanted to be a part of Harry’s life?’ I hug Cora close. I can’t imagine not being a part of my children’s lives. They mean the world to me.
‘His loss because Harry is lovely.’ She shakes her head.
‘He lived in London back then. He was married with two children then he got a contract in America and left. I decided I didn’t want him in our lives, so it’s always only been me and Harry.
Mum helped me create my studio and I’ve been here since. ’
‘And from what Morgan tells me, Harry is an absolute credit to you.’
‘It’s me and my boy against the world.’ Quinn pops her bag on the floor and takes her coat off. ‘I can’t help but be slightly envious about what you have.’ She bites her frosty pink bottom lip and smiles.
Her, envious of my very average family life?
She’s made the big time. I’m the green-eyed-monster here.
‘Seriously?’ I raise my brows and look around.
She has everything. Ethan and I are sinking every penny we have into the house across the lane, in the hope that we have enough to finish the project, and I’m scared what we have isn’t enough.
I’m scared our borrowing potential might be affected by his recent bad track record should we need more money, but I keep that to myself.
I doubt she’d be envious if she knew the details.
‘It’s obvious for all to see. Ethan loves you and he adores Morgan and this little one.’ Quinn smiles at Cora, and she shyly buries her head in my shoulder. ‘I’m really happy for you but I also wish I had that for Harry because he’s an amazing kid. You have a beautiful family.’
She reaches over and hugs me and Cora again. It’s like we’ve never been apart. She pauses for a moment before continuing. ‘Do you ever think about back then, at the den?’
I can’t speak. The very thought of the den and those woods sends me into a tizz and I don’t know how to respond.
This should be my moment to bring up the hamper and the article in it.
I can’t. It’s as if my tongue is too big for my mouth.
I glance out of her window and see the oppressive woodland trees bowing over her fence, and my heart starts racing.
Quinn sniffs.
‘Quinn, are you okay?’ I wonder if she too is thinking about that last summer we had together.
‘Sorry, I’m a blubbery mess. I have so much whirling through my head and talking of the past has made me think about my mum. I miss her. Excuse me a moment.’
She heads out of the door to clean her face and I am left alone looking at her pictures again, then my gaze stops on her handbag.
I can’t help but think that she took something from my aunt’s desk.
I could easily clear my niggle up by having a quick look in her bag.
I place Cora on the blue rug where she sits and claps.
Again, my back twinges. It’s getting worse.
My hands shake. I’m not a person who is able to sneak around without worrying but here goes.
I grab the clasp on her bag. I can’t open it.
Do I twist or pull? There seems to be a knack but my hands shake like a dried-up tree in a storm.
I try to feel what might be inside. The bag’s structure is rigid and I can’t tell what’s nestled within.
I try the clasp again, and it clicks open at the same time the door handle goes down.
I throw the bag to the floor. Though the clasp looks unlocked, the bag is back where I took it from.
To distract Quinn’s attention from what I’ve done, I run over to Cora, who has now toddled towards the desk, and I scoop her up.
My mouth is suddenly dry so I cough to clear my throat.
Quinn walks over to me, clutching a tissue and wiping mascara around her eyes. ‘I feel so silly.’
‘Don’t, you’ve suffered so much loss.’
I frown. Quinn can sense that the atmosphere has changed, not because I found something, but because I couldn’t resist the urge to snoop.
I might be able to keep my mouth shut but my face is telling another story.
I wonder if she’ll even notice the clasp.
My heart races. The last thing I want is to lose Quinn as a friend.
The other neighbours already hate me, and maybe I’m wrong about her taking something of Aunt Dorette’s.
Quinn was only getting a lipstick from her bag.
That’s what I saw and I’m wrong for being suspicious of her.
She’s been nothing but kind to me the past few days.
I think of how she looked after me while Ethan was at the police station.
‘Are you okay, Gemma?’ She dabs at her eyes one more time and throws the tissue in a little bin next to her seat.
‘Erm, I need to get back. So much work to do.’
‘But you haven’t eaten your cake. Here.’ She stares at me for a few seconds. I want to look away but I can’t, then she stands up and wraps it in a few sheets of kitchen roll. ‘Take it with you. You’ll need to keep your strength up.’
I frown. Does she know I’m pregnant? Now and again, I feel my hands brush over my stomach. She might have seen me do that. ‘Strength?’
‘For filling skips.’
‘Oh, yes.’ I stand, letting her know that I should leave now. Cora wriggles in my arms. I can sense she’s getting restless. ‘Oh, thank you for taking Morgan to school with Harry.’
‘It’s no problem. They seem to have become good friends which is lovely.
Besides, I have to go there anyway.’ She walks with me towards the door, then stops and runs back to her bag.
‘Damn, I need my phone in case Harry rings. I hate being without it. The kids can sometimes be a little nasty so he calls me during breaks if he’s feeling down.
’ She reaches towards her bag and frowns.
For a split second, she looks confused and that makes me want to get out of here more, so I head along the hallway with my wriggly toddler in my arms.
She’s catching up with me. Is she going to confront me before I get to the front door? Boom, boom, boom. Can she hear my heart banging away over Cora’s grizzly moans? I need to get out of here.
‘Gemma, wait.’
I stop dead, scared to turn around. I’m such a bad liar.
If she asks me if I undid the catch on her bag, I will blurt it out and I don’t know what to say in response.
I thought you stole something of Aunt Dorette’s so I tried to mooch through your bag while you were wiping your tears away in the bathroom.
Once upon a time, Quinn and I shared everything, our dreams, trust…
secrets – that’s until we turned on each other.
That’s why I didn’t write to her. I was too confused.
It’s been easy to forget that over the years.
I have to turn around. She stands there, her bag in one hand and something else in her other.
We stand for several seconds, her gaze on mine then she passes me a tissue-wrapped parcel.
‘You forgot your cake.’
I can’t break our eye contact. I knew I should have fought Ethan harder on not coming back here. It’s only been a few days and already I’m questioning who I really am – and I can’t answer that question. I don’t know but I can see that Quinn is pleading with me to rediscover the past.
I take it from her. ‘Thank you. I best go.’
I open the door and I don’t stop until I reach the end of her drive where she can no longer see me. Cora has now settled for pulling my hair but at least she’s not having a tantrum.
I lean up against Quinn’s post box and gasp for air, then I bend over as far as Cora will allow as my stomach lurches.
The cake slips out of the kitchen paper onto the ground, so I kick it under a bush and scrunch the tissues into my pocket.
Please don’t throw up on the street. A few deep breaths later, I’m in control again.
It’s as if the universe heard my plea. Using Quinn’s post box, I haul myself up until I’m standing upright again.
That’s when I see a letter sticking out.
I glance up and down, then I pull it out slightly.
Black ink, all capitals. Our note was in black ink and the word fall was capitalised.
I didn’t even look at Quinn’s post box when I came here.
I swipe the letter and run down the street, clocking all the other post boxes, and only Quinn’s had a letter sticking out of it. I thought those letters were a one-off but it seems they weren’t. The letters haven’t gone away and I’m terrified of what that means for my family.