Chapter 75
‘Aren’t you a little young for Florida, Kathy?’
She laughed. ‘We’re going to sell knitting pattens, yarn, needles and hooks, and craft kits. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a little girl.’
Her girlish enthusiasm was infectious, and I knew she loved crafting.
In fact, when Dad and Kathy got married, she had turned the spare room into a craft room.
After he died, she would host knitting workshops in the house on weekends.
She made a whole new group of close friends out of a hobby. You had to admire her.
‘I’m clearing out the house, so please come over and take any furniture you want. I can’t take the contents of a four-bedroom house to a one-bed apartment in St Augustine.’
I couldn’t think of anything I wanted, but it was unlikely that I would see Kathy again, and she was a sweet person who had loved and cared for my dad. Also, although my life shattered in that house, I had some great memories of it. I arranged a time to go over.
I roamed the rooms of the house, thinking of the last time I’d been there to reassure myself that Ruby had not spied on us through a keyhole.
I was still mad that Milo expected me to believe such bullshit.
The room that had been Mom and Dad’s was swathed in baby-pink and blue lace, lampshades, curtains and quilt.
It was like a child’s dream of a Cabbage Patch doll bedroom.
How had Dad reacted to this? I think he must have let her have free rein over this room as long as she left the rest of the house alone.
Kathy hadn’t touched the other bedrooms. Which was a pity as my old room was an eyesore.
The wallpaper was peeling and the busy floral pattern that had seemed cool nearly thirty years ago brought on an instant headache.
No wonder Mom had said it made her dizzy.
The room was used for storage now. There were three old baseball mitts, framed awards that Dad had won for humanitarian work, a broken keyboard on a stand that used to be downstairs, several old sewing machines, a box of shoes of all sorts on top of a bookcase.
I reckoned most of this could go to Goodwill or to a garbage dump.
I went into Ruby’s old room, still with its candy-pink wallpaper, and it was neat as a pin, most of Kathy’s equipment packed and stacked and carefully labelled.
I caught my reflection in the mirror on the wall.
That mirror had been there forever. I remembered Mom saying that it was a wedding present from her cousin.
I wondered if she would like to have it back, but then she hadn’t taken it in the divorce.
It looked like an antique, though. Maybe I could take it home and put it in our hallway.
Kathy would be disappointed if I didn’t take something.
The mirror sat on the floor. I pulled it towards me, examining the old mahogany frame for woodworm.
As I turned, something on the wall caught my eye.
A piece of what looked like a large Band-Aid curled up at the edges was stuck there.
Had it been attached to the mirror? I pulled it away to reveal a deep hole about one inch in diameter.
The mirror used to hang off a nail there, I recalled.
I felt a creeping sensation at the back of my neck.
I went back into my old room and removed the box of shoes from the top of a bookcase.
It had not been there in my time. When I got real close, I could see a hole.
I peered through it and into Ruby’s room.
I stood away from the wall and the hole just disappeared back into the pattern. My stomach churned.
I went back into Ruby’s room, up to the hole on her side, and looked through. The view of my room was perfect. I could see exactly where my bed would have been and where the desk would have been. I could see where the trash can had been.
I ran downstairs and made an excuse to Kathy about being late for an appointment, telling her I would be back for the mirror. I went out, got into my car and drove to the nearest secluded spot. I pulled over. My hands were shaking, and I had a headache like I’d never had before.