Chapter 20
BETH
Justin’s eyes won’t meet mine. He swans across the room and drops his keys in the porcelain dish on the centre island. ‘Won’t it be great to have the extra help? We don’t need to take Mum to your hospital appointment now. It’s a win-win for us all.’
The radio plays in the background. I’m lost for something to say.
The audacity of the man. I want to scream at him.
Scream at this girl. Tell her to get the hell out of my house.
I squeeze my mother-in-law’s bony shoulder and take a seat.
Blue sits beside me, his intense ice-blue eyes staring up at me.
He knows. My beloved dog isn’t stupid. He knows that I’m right.
That girl shouldn’t be here. ‘How come you missed your flight?’ I try to sound as casual as I can, but it’s a challenge.
Immy smiles sweetly. I can’t make out if it’s fake or not.
‘I got the wrong time.’ She pulls up the spaghetti strap of her lacy white top.
The hem sits just shy of her navel, which sparkles with a small diamanté belly button piercing.
Her abs are as flat as my chest, even when she’s sitting.
‘Anyway, Justin invited me to stay.’ She nods sideways at Hattie.
‘To give you a hand around the place. You know – while you’re having your treatment. ’
He’s told her about my cancer. How dare he. That’s not his news to share.
Justin is sweating. My pulse quickens. I know the signs. He can’t control himself.
‘Only if I’m not intruding,’ she adds. ‘You have such a wonderful house. You must be so happy here.’
‘Is there any more toast?’ Hattie pipes up. ‘And gravy.’
‘Gravy?’ Immy asks, raising her eyebrows.
‘I fancy some toast and gravy.’ Hattie raps her knuckle on the table. ‘Harold loved gravy.’
‘How about some jam?’ Immy says. ‘Jam is much better on toast. Or how about some marmalade?’
‘No. Gravy. I want gravy.’
Immy jumps up from her chair. She looks at me, her sickly smile still beaming. ‘Where do you keep the gravy?’
Justin interjects. ‘In here.’ He disappears through the door at the end of the kitchen, reappearing seconds later from his well-stocked pantry with a jar of chicken gravy granules.
The radio changes song. I grab the side of the table. ‘Born to Make You Happy’ by Britney Spears. The memories come pouring back. Mandy Malone. I glance at Justin. He’s ignoring me. I clench my fists. Don’t go there, Beth. I get up and switch stations.
Immy reboils the kettle and pops a slice of bread into the toaster. She looks out the window. ‘Such wonderful grounds. And look at that lake. It’s huge. Magnificent. Do you own all this?’
‘We do. I’ll give you a proper tour later.
’ Justin grabs a spoon from the cutlery drawer and returns her smile as if they’re playing a joke on me.
I blink several times. It’s as if my eyes are deceiving me.
He sprinkles two spoonfuls of granules into my gravy boat.
The one my nephew bought me from a car boot sale when he was seven years old because it has flowers on it, and he knew how much I love flowers.
Immy and Justin giggle like loved-up teenagers as he makes the gravy, and she butters the toast.
I look on aghast, speechless. It’s as if I’m watching the beginning of a horror movie that I’ve seen before.
Hattie sees it too. Her eyes narrow as she watches them.
Immy presents the toast on a plate and the half-full gravy boat in front of Hattie. ‘As you wished.’
Hattie stares at the offering. The lines on her forehead deepen.
‘I need to make a few calls. I’ll be back in a while,’ Justin says.
‘I need to talk to you,’ I say.
‘Not now. As I said, I need to make a few calls.’ He leaves the room.
Hattie picks up the gravy boat. ‘What the bloody hell is this?’
‘You asked for some toast and gravy, Hattie,’ I say.
‘No, I didn’t. I hate gravy. Take it away.’ She pushes the gravy boat, sloshing the brown liquid over the table.
‘I must’ve misheard you, Hattie,’ Immy says. ‘My apologies. Let me take that away and get you something else.’
It’s as if I’m still asleep, trapped in a batshit dream.
But one I don’t want to wake up from.
Because I know where this nightmare is going to end.