Chapter 2
I ran across the gravel, Holly a couple of steps behind me. The front door stood ajar and I went directly into a grand hallway, Holly following me in.
I hesitated, not knowing the layout, taking in the wood-panelled walls, the grandfather clock, the musty smell of a place that hadn’t been occupied for six months. Holly marched past me and disappeared through a door towards the far end of the hallway.
I followed her into what turned out to be the kitchen, which had windows showing a view of the back garden, along with a back door which stood open, letting in a blast of icy air.
A woman stood in the middle of the room.
She was, I found out later, thirty-six, the same age as me and Holly.
She was wearing a green fleece and jeans, dirty trainers on her feet, and her hair was dark and curly and tied back with a scrunchie.
There were spots of ruddy colour on her cheeks and circles of tiredness beneath a pair of brown eyes.
Beside Holly, with her carefully applied make-up and long, straightened red hair, she appeared earthy, rustic, and it struck me that a picture of them side by side could be used to illustrate the city girl versus her country cousin.
‘Morag,’ Holly said. ‘What happened? We heard a scream.’
Morag Hamilton was the Grants’ housekeeper. She kept an eye on the place when it was empty, which was forty-eight weeks a year. I’d asked Holly why they didn’t rent it out as an AirBnB, and she’d replied, ‘Dad would never have strangers staying in his house.’
The way the back door stood open, I was sure Morag was going to say she had interrupted an intruder. Instead, she pointed at the floor beneath the breakfast table and, hardly able to get the words out, said, ‘A snake.’
I took a step back, away from where she was pointing.
‘It must have been Hamish,’ Morag went on, with a glance towards the garden.
‘Who’s Hamish?’ I asked. I was confused. Was that the name of the snake?
‘Hamish is a cat,’ Holly said. ‘A tomcat who roams the peninsula. He’s a cutie.’
‘Yeah, and that cutie brought a fucking snake into the kitchen.’ Morag was out of breath, eyes darting around the room.
‘What kind of snake?’ I asked. ‘A slowworm?’
‘An adder.’
Britain’s only venomous snake. I’d never seen one in real life, only in books. I didn’t ever want to.
Holly stayed calm. ‘Where is it now? Is it still in here?’
‘I don’t think so. I think it went out through the back door.’
‘You think?’
Morag was clearly shaken. ‘I’m not sure, okay? I thought I was going to have a panic attack.’
‘Oh, come here.’ Holly approached Morag and drew her into a hug, though Morag remained rigid with tension as Holly attempted to soothe her by patting her back. ‘Patrick will take a look.’
‘Me?’
‘Oh, I forgot. You’re scared of them, too, aren’t you? My big, brave boyfriend.’
‘Listen, if it’s good enough for Indiana Jones.’
Holly laughed. ‘Where was it, Morag? Under the table?’ She peered beneath it. ‘It’s not there now. Come on, Patrick, help me look. You’ll be fine.’
My fear was irrational. I knew that. Adders can bite you, but they can’t kill you.
It was like being terrified of a wasp. I got down on all fours and peered beneath the kitchen cabinets, opening the cupboard beneath the sink, checking under the big oak dining table that dominated one end of this kitchen, which was almost as big as the flat I’d been living in before I moved in with Holly.
I had to hand it to Morag: the place was immaculately clean.
Everything was old, though, the floor tiles scuffed, the furniture tired and beginning to fall apart.
It was very different to Holly’s brand-new kitchen in Brighton.
‘I think it must have gone out. Don’t adders hibernate in winter?’ I said, getting back to my feet, relieved not to have found anything.
‘Aye. God knows where that little bastard found it. He’s a six-dinner Sid,’ Morag explained.
She shook her arms out, attempting to disperse the tension from her muscles.
‘He strolls around the whole peninsula, getting everyone to feed him. No one seems to know who he belongs to, but my mum claims he’s hers because he spends most of the time at the pub. ’
Holly explained. ‘Morag’s mum, Brenda, is the landlady of the Bay Inn, the pub I was telling you about. Do you still work there, Morag?’
‘Aye, when it’s busy, like this week. Hogmanay is our busiest night of the year. The whole of Christmas week is hectic. Lots of men hiding from their wives.’
The back door was still open, and Morag went over to close it. It was so cold in the house that when Morag spoke her breath was visible.
‘I’m really sorry, Holly. I need to put the heating on. Light the fire. You’re earlier than I expected.’
Morag was looking at me, and Holly said, ‘Oh, sorry. I haven’t introduced you. Morag, this is Patrick. My boyfriend.’
She nodded at me. ‘When are the others getting here?’
‘Miranda and Zack should be here any moment.’ Miranda was Holly’s older sister and Zack was her husband. ‘Lewis is arriving tonight. Swanning in and making a grand entrance, as usual.’
‘And what about your dad?’
‘He’s getting here tomorrow.’
‘And will he have … his fiancée with him?’
Holly kept the smile on her lips. ‘Jasmine. Yes.’
Morag went over to the sink, filling the kettle. She gave Holly a sidelong glance. ‘How are you feeling about it all?
‘It’s great. I can’t wait to meet her.’
‘I bet. She’s American, right?’
‘From Florida.’
‘And isn’t she the same age as us?’
‘Hmm.’
‘Younger, actually,’ I said. ‘Thirty-four.’
Morag didn’t seem at all surprised. Older, rich men and younger women. It was such a cliché it was hardly worth remarking on. ‘And he’s how old now?’ The kettle had boiled and Morag poured the water into a cafetière that she had already spooned coffee into.
‘Sixty-one.’
Morag finished making the coffee and handed a mug each to me and Holly. ‘And you’re all right about it?’
‘Of course. Why do people keep asking me that?’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to …’
Holly waved a hand. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine.’
For the first time since I’d met her, Morag smiled.
A tiny one. ‘I’d be freaking out if it was my mum.
Not that I can ever imagine her meeting anyone.
She lost all interest in men when my dad ran off, says they’re only good for one thing.
’ A comedic pause. ‘Spending money at the pub. I definitely can’t imagine her finding a toy boy. ’
‘Huh. No. That is hard to picture.’ To me, Holly said, ‘You’ll meet Brenda. She’s a force of nature.’
‘Despite everything,’ Morag said, and a look passed between her and Holly, just for a fleeting moment, before Morag said, ‘I’d better go and get that fire lit. We don’t want the house to be freezing when the others turn up.’
She left the room, head down, almost shuffling.
She might be thirty-six, the same age as Holly, but she seemed much older, and not just because she didn’t have the benefit of expensive haircuts and skincare products.
Maybe it was living out here, exposed to the elements.
Perhaps I’d just caught her on a day when she was tired.
But there was something about her that reminded me of my own mum, who always acted as if she was waiting for life to give her another slap.
It was undoubtedly that resemblance to my mother that made me like her – but as I opened my mouth to say something like ‘She seems nice’, I saw how Holly was watching her go, eyes narrowed in a way I hadn’t seen before. There was history between these two women.
‘Do you not like her?’ I whispered.
‘What? Don’t be silly.’ She looked towards the door Morag had vanished through. ‘Of course I like her. She’s one of my oldest friends. Actually, I’d better go and give her a hand.’
I watched her leave her room, a little shaken. If I wasn’t mistaken, this might be the first time she had ever lied to me.