Chapter 42
SCARLETT
I cautiously return downstairs. She sounded like she was trying to warn me, as if she knows I’m in some sort of danger from her husband. I wonder how much she knows about what is going on in this house. She’s such a lovely woman. It’s hard to imagine her being involved in her husband’s darkness.
At the bottom of the stairs, I collect my shorts from the banister, remembering why I came out of my room in a towel. That photo. It was in the pocket of these shorts. It must’ve dropped out. I need to find it.
I hurry to my room. With trembling hands, I grab my phone that I left charging on the dressing table. Wasting no time, I try DS Porter, but the call fails. There’s still no signal.
Desperate, I flip open my laptop, praying for a different result, but the Wi-Fi is down. I sink into the chair, my breath shaky. My arms are covered in goosebumps, despite the heat in the room. Everything is a blur, yet the goal is clear: I need to get out of here. And fast.
I check my emails. There are none. I gasp in horror. All the emails I’ve sent are still hanging in my outbox. The taste of fear rises in my throat. I’m dead to the outside world.
Damn Beth for having a funny turn at the hospital. I’d be away from here by now if she hadn’t. But I can’t leave yet. I need to go when they aren’t around.
Tonight.
Once they go to bed, I’m out of here.
Justin has put on some music. A blast of Chopin reaches me from the hallway. My mum was a music teacher before she retired to care for Granny, so I know my composers. She always has music playing.
After dressing, I go to the kitchen, where Justin is laying a platter of cheese and cold meats on the table. Connor is packing a file into his rucksack. ‘Are you sure you won’t have something to eat before you go?’ Justin says.
‘No, my Uber is due any moment,’ Connor replies.
It seems strange that Justin had previously been so keen to give his son a lift and is now leaving him to get a taxi. ‘I can take care of things if you want to take Connor, Justin.’
‘No, you’re fine,’ he replies sternly. Connor gives him a sideways glance.
Something’s up. Justin’s on to me. Of course he is. If he gives Connor a lift to the station, I’ll be out of here. No. Justin wants me exactly where he can see me. A car hoots from outside.
‘It was nice meeting you again,’ Connor says with what feels like an air of finality.
How I wish I were going with him. But I can’t work out a way to engineer that happening, and even if I could, I don’t know if I even trust him. Can I trust any of them? And that includes Hattie.
Justin busies himself around the table. ‘Nothing too fancy. I haven’t had the time, especially with Beth still not feeling great. I’ll just grab the salad. It’s too hot for anything warm. We can have the leftovers another night. Tuck in.’
A slight breeze filters through the open back door. It’s still hot, but not as intense as earlier. I’m struggling to hold myself together. Justin didn’t see his son off. He’s watching me. Keeping me close.
‘Where’s the other one?’ Hattie asks.
‘The other one?’ I ask.
‘You mean Beth?’ Justin interrupts. He looks at me and grins. ‘She’s not feeling well, Mum. She’s having a lie-down.’
‘I don’t like cheese,’ Hattie says.
‘Yes, you do.’ Justin cuts a piece of cheddar and places it on her plate with some crackers.
‘It’s good for your bones,’ I encourage her, to make conversation, trying to keep things normal. Not that you can call this situation the least bit normal.
‘I’ll have some meat,’ she says.
Justin helps her to two pieces of Parma ham.
‘Is there any chutney?’ Hattie asks.
‘I’m afraid we’re out of it, Mum. We can get some when we next go shopping,’ Justin says, his face composed. He moves effortlessly, filling the plate with a graceful serenity.
‘Not too much,’ she says. ‘I haven’t much of an appetite. Too hot, isn’t it?’
‘You must eat, love. Keep up your strength.’
‘Stop fussing.’
Justin goes to the fridge and brings a tray of glasses filled with a cloudy drink to the table.
‘My homemade lemonade. Hope you like it.’ He holds my gaze a little too long as he hands me a glass.
My unease grows. I honestly can’t work out if he’s on to me or not.
But if he were, I doubt I’d be sitting here.
I take a sip of the lemonade. It’s crisp and refreshing. ‘Very tasty,’ I say. But I fill an empty glass from the jug in the centre of the table. I need water to quench my thirst.
‘Glad you like it.’ There it is again. The look that he holds a little too long. I can’t wait for them all to go to bed.
Hattie entertains with her random stories and anecdotes. I play along, planning my escape once it gets dark. Just me and my phone – out of here.
Hattie eats a few scraps of food, mainly pushing it around her plate. Eventually she excuses herself. ‘I’m going to turn in. I’m tired.’
I don’t want her to go. It feels safer with her here.
‘Why don’t you take Mum up, Immy? It’d do her good to get an early night.’
‘It’s a bit early, don’t you think?’ I say.
‘She’ll be fine, won’t you, Mum?’ he says in a quieter voice I haven’t heard him use before. ‘Be up and at it in the morning. I’ll clear up here.’
I don’t want to be left alone with him. ‘Sure.’ Standing up, I take Hattie’s arm. ‘Come with me. I’ll find you a film to watch.’
We leave Justin clearing up, and Hattie obediently follows me upstairs like a puppy. My stomach is in knots, tugging tighter and tighter. I close the curtains, pull back the duvet and help her get ready for bed. After she has put on her nightie, I say, ‘Let’s go and brush your teeth.’
She doesn’t move. ‘It’s strange,’ she says.
I straighten the collar of her nightie. ‘What’s strange?’
A deep frown creases her forehead. Her eyes meet mine and she says, ‘You remind me so much of Daisy.’