Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Gemma
‘Why aren’t you calling the police?’
Ethan doesn’t look worried which unnerves me more.
‘It’s okay. I helped a trapped bird out earlier, and I’ve seen at least two rats.
I’ll check it out.’ He grabs his torch off the side.
‘Don’t touch the upstairs electrics by the way.
There was a bit of a leak in the bathroom next to your aunt’s old office, so I’ve turned everything off at the fuse board.
’ The apartment is controlled on a separate fuse board. For that I’m grateful.
‘It wasn’t a bird,’ I say. ‘The light fitting moved downstairs when someone was standing above it. Call the police. We can’t go out there without backup. Someone is in our house.’
‘Gemma.’ His tone is firm. He’s put his coat on but he isn’t putting his torch down. ‘I’m just going to check it out. If there is someone there, I can handle them, okay?’
He’s strong and he knows he is which makes him feel invincible. He hasn’t thought this through. ‘What if they have a knife?’ His muscles won’t protect him from a huge blade or the element of surprise.
‘I’m not letting someone scare us in our own home.’ The veins in his neck and forehead are bulging. He’s angry but at least he seems to believe me when I say there is someone in the house, because if he mentions the words rat or bird again, I might start planning our divorce.
Morgan has come out of her cupboard. She’s standing against the doorframe biting her bottom lip. Without being asked, she protectively runs over to Cora, picks her up and hugs her.
‘I heard someone the other day, too, and I thought it might be a bird but it wasn’t, was it?’
‘I don’t know but can you please stay here with Cora?’ I’m not letting Ethan go alone. I snatch my phone off the worktop.
‘Mum, don’t. Let Dad go.’
Ethan opens the door. ‘Gemma, please just stay with the kids and lock the door.’
However much I hate to admit it, the kids and I have to stay in the apartment.
I lock the door behind him. Please hurry back , I keep repeating in my head.
My finger hovers over the number nine of my phone, ready to press it three times.
Two minutes pass, three minutes, then we’re up to five minutes. I’m biting my nails again now.
‘Mum, I’m scared.’ Morgan wipes her wet eyes.
I can’t wait any longer. I call the police and they’re sending someone straight away. I can’t hear Ethan. What if he’s been attacked and is unable to reach his phone because he’s lying in a pool of his own blood?
‘Morgan, I have to go out there to see if Dad’s okay.’
She starts sobbing and I hate to leave her, but the police are on their way. I love Ethan and I couldn’t bear for anything to have happened to him. She nods, knowing that this is something I have to do.
‘As soon as I leave, lock the door behind me, okay?’ I grab a knife and Morgan gasps. ‘I won’t need it. It’s a precaution, that’s all.’ I try to look calm about things as I leave her in the apartment.
She locks the door behind me. All I have is the torch on my phone.
I listen to see if I can hear Ethan but all I hear is the breeze whistling through the broken window.
It’s pitch black now and the milky moonlight carries murky versions of the colours in the stained glass across the stairs and landing. I grip the knife by my side.
Every part of me trembles as I step across the long landing all the way to the other side.
With every step I take, the floorboards creak which makes things worse because I can’t hear Ethan or the intruder.
I keep going, past the mirror, then past all the doors along the hallway until I reach the open door to the balcony room.
Panic hits me like a bolt of lightning. I picture Ethan on the tiles below, suffering a similar fate to Aunt Dorette, so I run in.
‘Ethan.’ I flash the light across the walls, on the floor and then into the room.
The balcony doors are wide open and the long white voiles flap in the breeze.
My hand holding the knife quivers uncontrollably.
‘Gemma, stay where you are.’
‘Ethan.’
‘Move slowly and quietly and speak in a calm voice.’
My legs tremble. I don’t know if I want to venture any further but I have to know what’s behind those voiles.
I turn my torch off and place my phone into the big front pocket of my dungarees.
I still have the knife and feel sick at the thought of having to use it.
After my eyes have adjusted to the dark, I part the voiles to see a dog standing close to the ledge.
Ethan is kneeling on the floor holding a hand out towards it, trying to encourage it to come to him.
The golden retriever steps back, shaking.
‘Come here, boy,’ Ethan says in a gentle voice. The dog’s nails scrape on the floor as it moves right onto the edge of the broken balcony. Its lead seems to be tangled around one of the almost fallen rails. ‘I won’t hurt you.’ He holds his hand out again.
My heart feels like it’s in my mouth. One slip and the dog will be hanging by its lead over the edge. If Ethan goes to untie the lead, I’m scared he’ll go over too. A small bit of loose concrete from the balcony crashes to the ground.
‘Here, boy. Please come here.’ Ethan withdraws slightly, and the dog steps towards him. With a swift movement, Ethan pulls the dog close into his arms, where he pats and hugs it. ‘It’s all okay.’ While spreading his weight across the floor, he leans across and untangles the lead.
‘Did you come across anyone else? I ask, wondering if the person who brought the dog ran away.
‘No, only the dog.’ He glances at my hand as he stands. ‘Is that a knife?’
‘I didn’t know what was happening.’ I place the knife on a rickety wooden chair. I won’t need that now.
He leads the dog back into the house and reads the tag. ‘It’s your friend Quinn’s dog. Her address is on the tag.’
‘What’s it doing in our house?’
‘That’s what I intend to find out.’
‘Ethan, whatever was walking above me when I was downstairs was on two legs, not four. It wasn’t the dog. There was someone in the house.’