Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Gemma
As we pull up next to Robbie and Jake’s work van, I try to phone Morgan again.
‘The call isn’t connecting. She must have turned her phone off.
It looks like I’ll have to go over to Quinn’s to get her.
’ A part of me hopes that Ethan will pipe up to say he’ll get Morgan and, in the process, say sorry to Quinn.
My teeth almost itch at the thought as I mull over what was in Quinn’s letter.
Did something happen between them when he was fixing the apartment up?
Maybe Quinn is threatening to tell me. I saw my husband lose himself on the street over the hamper the other day, then again with Quinn last night. I’ve never seen him like this before.
‘Rather you than me,’ Ethan replies as he pulls the handbrake on.
‘I don’t know. It might have been a good opportunity to say sorry for going off on one last night.
’ Still allowing doubt to niggle away at me, I take in his reaction but he gives me nothing to work with.
Now I’m thinking he doesn’t want to face her because something did go on between them.
‘What do you say?’ I’m silently judging his body language now.
‘Not going to happen.’
My arms and hands feel electric with nerves.
Suspicions aside, I don’t want to go over there.
Ethan is obviously leaving the unpleasantries to me after he let his mouth run away with him.
I feel like I apologised to Quinn enough last night but I can’t say sorry for Ethan.
We live on the same lane so it’s inevitable that we’re all going to bump into each other, however much I also hate that prospect.
‘You take Cora up and get her fed and settled and I’ll get Morgan.
’ Maybe I have drawn the long straw because Cora is tired and she’s starting to cry as he lifts her out of her car seat.
I know she’s going to be a nightmare to settle after being at the police station for most of the afternoon.
‘Okay and I’ll see how things are going inside. Robbie and Jake are pulling a late one to get on top of everything.’ With Cora in his arms, Ethan walks off, leaving me to do the deed. Cora’s cries quieten the further away he gets from me.
As I crunch through the snow to cross the lane, I see that Quinn has just emptied her post box and now she’s heading back onto her drive.
I call out. ‘Quinn.’ She doesn’t hear me, so I start running but it’s hard in the snow while wearing my useless boots.
I really need to order some wellies. It’s not like back home where the gritter lorries are out at the first sign of frost. Civilisation doesn’t extend to Clover Lane.
I’m almost upon Quinn but she seems to be in a world of her own. ‘Quinn,’ I shout. She enters her house and completely ignores me as she closes the front door.
I thump the door like mad and ring the bell over and over again, but no one answers.
It’s a huge house but surely Harry or Morgan can hear me.
I’m still annoyed at Morgan for making me come over here, but after the day we’ve had, I just want to get her home and give her a big hug.
If only she had waited in the café like I asked her to.
Light floods through the window at the far end of the building – Quinn’s studio.
I carefully step between her glass wall and the elongated fish pond feature until I’m at the end of the building, then I watch her as she picks up a huge drawing of a smiley dragon with a bow on its head.
She places it down and grabs a large glass of red wine and swigs greedily from it.
She kicks off her boots and exposes her grey ribbed socks that just show under her long maroon pleather skirt.
Her tiny waist is nipped in at the middle and a white-as-fresh-snow polo top reaches up the length of her neck.
She looks like the Quinn I know from back then but a little more sophisticated.
Then she takes out a cigarette and lights it.
That takes me back. She used to steal the odd cigarette from her mum.
Quinn encouraged me to try one once and I nearly choked my guts up.
I tap on the window with anticipation, and she still doesn’t look. It’s only then I realise she has earbuds in. She begins to dance, sliding across the floor and holding her hands above her head. Then she turns and her gaze catches mine.
I want to look away. It feels like I’ve intruded on her privacy, but I can’t help wondering what she was listening to, so I smile and awkwardly wave while scrunching my nose up. She points to the patio doors at the opposite end of the room, so I run around the house until I reach her garden.
She opens the door. ‘Gemma.’ She blows a plume of smoke into the snowy air and offers me a drag.
‘No thanks. I haven’t touched one since we last lit up in the woods all those years ago.
’ I can’t help but smile. The look on Quinn’s face tells me that she’s not mad about last night.
She still looks as warm and friendly as the other day, despite me wondering if she knew I’d tried to get into her bag.
‘Well, you need to live a bit, Gem.’
Gem and Quinny. That’s what we called each other back then.
Seeing her now makes me smile. It’s like the worry of the recording device, the note, the necklace, and every other horrible thing that’s going on around here has melted away.
I’m assuming the kids are in the games room that Morgan spoke about.
She grabs an almost empty bottle of wine from the side and pours what’s left into her wine glass.
It’s only then I can tell she’s slightly tipsy.
She instructs her smart speaker to play her favourite song.
‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush comes on.
‘I was just listening to this, Gem. Remember when we used to play it back then in the den on my mum’s little portable CD player.
It was her CD but we loved it so we used to nick it. ’ She laughs.
I check my phone and see that Morgan hasn’t read my message.
I can only imagine that she’s having a lovely time and that she’s forgotten I even exist. ‘Those were fun times but I need to get back. I came over to get Morgan.’ I pause, knowing I sound a little abrupt.
‘About last night again. I feel terrible and Ethan does too?—’
‘Shush, Gem. Don’t ruin the atmosphere. The kids are fine. They’ve gone to walk Diggerty but it’s okay. Harry knows he can’t take him into the woods at night. They’re just walking around the estate or maybe by the pond and up that path. It’s well lit up and it’s still early.’
I’m now angry. It might not be late but it’s pitch black out there.
Morgan isn’t here and I can’t contact her.
With all that’s going on, she could’ve stayed closer to home, but then again, at least she’s with Harry and has the protection of a dog.
If I’m to keep things as normal as possible for her, I need to give her space to hang out with friends while Ethan and I deal with the shitstorm going on around us.
Maybe I can share what’s been happening with Quinn.
She’s half cut; still, it’s worth a try.
‘Sit down, Gem. Let me get some nuts or I don’t know…err…’ She pulls out a bag of sweets from a drawer. ‘I saw these earlier. You used to love them so I bought them for you.’ She places the bag of cherry lip sweets on her coffee table and opens them.
I stand straight, suddenly rigid from seeing them.
‘They remind me of that necklace you always wore, the one with the lips.’ She lets out a laugh and eats a sweet before swilling it down with a huge gulp of red wine. ‘Gosh they taste nicer with wine. Have one.’
She pushes the bag my way then licks a dark smear on her hand before rubbing it on her skirt. I nervously take one and then eat it.
‘Do you still have that necklace?’ She begins to play with the knot pendant on the end of her own necklace as she smiles warmly.
It’s as if she knows I found it. How could she know?
I only found it by chance. Could Quinn have sneaked in and taken the letter when we were all upstairs?
Did Ethan leave the front door on the catch before he came up?
We’ve been through this. I said I didn’t leave it on the catch and he said he didn’t.
I’m so confused right now. Maybe he’d popped out to see Quinn.
There – I did it. I suspected Quinn of trying to seduce my husband or him of sneaking out to see her.
The way she eats those cherry lips is captivating – seductive.
Had Ethan fallen for her charms? Is he now fighting those feelings and taking everything out on Quinn instead?
I shake my head and mutter the word ‘No.’
‘Sit, you look so uncomfortable. Kick your shoes off, relax.’
All I can hear is her voice over Kate Bush’s haunting wails.
My senses are in a state of overwhelm and the blast from my past is making my heart bang.
It’s like we’re back in the past. In my mind, we’re in the den, slightly drunk on cheap cider.
The air is thick and smoky, and we’re eating cherry lips while listening to this very song.
I want to run out of here but my legs have turned to stone.
‘Okay, don’t sit. Let’s dance.’ Holding what’s left of the cigarette, Quinn starts waving her arms around.
I spot her phone on the coffee table and it’s lit up and open in an app.
I used to use it when we lived in Bristol.
Welcome to the Neighbourhood. I’m sure I catch sight of Jasmine’s name before the light on her phone goes off and I can’t read what she was looking at last.
She grabs my hand, drops the cigarette and stamps on it, not caring one bit about her beautiful floor.
Her rebelliousness always gave me a thrill and I feel a shiver that I’m trying to dismiss.
She slowly takes my bag and puts it on the table, now she’s spinning me around, laughing.
I keep seeing the picture of the dragon, then the cherry lips, the patio doors then I focus back on Quinn’s face as she goes faster.
The background is now a blur. Again, I think of the letters, the recording device, her dog in our house, the police, my children and I’m scared I’m going to lose everything, but for a snapshot in time, Quinn’s childlike love of the past is sweeping me up and I want to smile too before the reality of the situation kicks in again.
I forgot what fun Quinn was to be around.
The track ends. She instructs the smart speaker to stop and the room is as silent as snowfall at five a.m. on Christmas morning. It’s just me and her. No music, no chatter of other people, not even the distant sound of a barking dog.
Quinn’s hair has fallen from its grip. It hangs wildly over her shoulders, and it’s as if the room has vanished and all I can see is her.
I’ve fought the past but it’s upon me now.
I can feel it crushing my chest. We both know what happened back then, what started everything off the day Jasmine disappeared, and it’s as if we’re both thinking about it at the same time.
‘Are you happy, Gem, with Ethan? Are you really happy?’
What is she going to tell me? I wait for her to confess to whatever’s going on with Ethan. It has to be that. My heart races and I can’t seem to calm it down. Her perfume – jasmine – it’s intoxicating. Jasmine – that name again. Then I realise I know that exact look she has on her face.
Her hand cups my chin and her lips brush softly against mine. I remember back then how her lip gloss smudged onto my lips and how her sweet perfume tickled my senses.
No, no, no. What’s happening here? I need to get out. It was a mistake back then and what she just did, that was a mistake too. I wrench my hands from Quinn’s, grab my bag and run out of her studio as fast as I can, staggering like I’m drunk.
‘Gem, Gemma,’ she keeps calling.
I’m dizzy from all the spinning but I don’t stop until I’m in the middle of the lane gasping for breath and wondering how the hell that happened, but I’m not alone. Ruby, my neighbour, stands on the path holding a piece of paper.
‘Morgan,’ I shout but I can’t see my daughter or Harry. I look up, the world is still spinning and I’m sure Ray is up there at his window looking down on me. I can’t see him but I feel his presence or it might even be my imagination.
Something blue catches my eye and my heart races as I realise what it is. It’s Morgan’s scarf lying on the path that leads to the woods.