Chapter 24
Leah had spent the morning wrestling with black satin, cutting, pleating, acting as if she knew exactly what she was doing. She didn’t. She lacked creative flair of any kind, and yet she’d promised Maisie a cape – a beautiful one, with a flash of red that would billow when she spun.
Why had she said she’d do it?
Especially now, when things with Dylan felt … off.
Maybe because it felt like something she could get right.
She remembered the moment clearly now. Maisie, eyes wide with excitement, her little fingers trailing over a picture in a book. A special cape, the kind a real witch would wear. “You’ll make it, won’t you, Mummy?” she had asked, so earnestly, so sure of Leah’s ability to make anything happen.
And Leah had nodded. Smiled. Said, “Of course.”
Because Maisie asked for very little. Because Halloween – or guising, as Leah kept reminding her – was the event of the year in her daughter’s world.
“Not trick-or-treating,” Leah had corrected her more times than she could count. “Guising.”
It wasn’t just knocking on doors and holding out a bag the way they did in American films. Here, you had to earn your sweets – a joke, a poem, a wee song if you were brave enough. Half the village still took it very seriously.
Leah liked that. There was something old-fashioned about it. Something rooted.
And still, even now, something about it warmed her.
Maybe because guising was one of the few bright, vivid memories she had from those two fleeting years her family had lived in Rock Cove when she was a child.
Erica had been too young to remember it, of course, but for Leah, it had lodged somewhere deep, like a quiet landmark. Something stable.
They had moved so often because of their father’s military postings, it all blurred together.
But not Rock Cove. Not the autumn mist rolling in from the sea, or the sound of kids’ voices echoing off the cobbled streets on Halloween night.
Leah had carried the memory with her all these years, tucked into her chest like a pressed leaf.
When Dylan’s job brought them back to Scotland, it was the only place she wanted to be. As though this place might finally let them put down roots.
Maisie had loved guising from the moment she was old enough to join in, but this year was different. This year Auntie Eri would be there.
Ever the little performer, she'd clapped her hands together.
“Oh! Should I sing a song this time? Maybe Auntie Eri will sing with me?”
Leah’s heart clenched. Sometimes, when Maisie didn’t even realise it, Leah loved her so much it hurt. And so, when her darling girl had asked for a special witch’s cape, Leah made up her mind.
Especially since things with Dylan weren’t exactly right lately.
She could feel the distance growing between them, the unspoken words piling up. Conversations were careful, too careful. Like they were both treading lightly over something fragile, something neither of them wanted to break.
She knew Maisie sensed it. Children always did.
So if making this cape meant seeing that bright, open-mouthed smile on Maisie’s face, then Leah would do it. No matter what might come to pass between her and Dylan.
She stabbed her finger for what felt like the hundredth time, drawing a sharp bead of blood from an old raw spot. Leah swore under her breath and flung the half-stitched cape into a bag.
Enough.
She grabbed her coat and marched down the street to the local dressmaker, praying she wasn’t too late.
Luck was on her side – the woman was just about to close up for her lunch break when Leah arrived, slightly breathless, a plea already forming on her lips.
Fifteen minutes later, the cape was back in her hands, expertly stitched, more beautiful than Leah could have managed in a month of Sundays. She felt a rush of relief, already picturing the way Maisie’s face would light up when she saw it.
A small victory. But maybe those were the ones that mattered most.
As she walked home, she pulled her phone from her pocket, checking it instinctively. Still nothing from Erica.
Leah frowned.
She’d called her sister last night. Again this morning. Nothing.
She didn’t want to be the overbearing one. Erica had promised she’d come tonight, and Leah had always tried to be the kind of sister who trusted a promise. But still …
Maisie had been so excited to go guising with her special auntie.
Leah told herself Erica would show up. She would. She always did in the end.
Still, the worry gnawed at her.
Maybe she should pay her a visit? Just to check?
She hesitated, then shook the thought away.
If Erica said she’d come, then she’d come.
Leah picked Maisie up from school just as the last of the daylight faded, darkness swallowing the town in that quiet, creeping way it always did by late October.
The sea air was crisp, carrying salt and chimney smoke from the cottages they passed, where fires were being lit and curtains drawn, ready for the evening’s knock at the door.
Maisie practically buzzed beside her, skipping along with boundless energy, pointing out every Halloween decoration they passed.
Outside one cottage, a grinning inflatable Frankenstein wobbled slightly in the wind, its green face lit up by the glow of a porch lantern.
Another house had gone all out – paper bats dangling from the eaves, skeletons posed in comical stances by the front step.
Jack-o’-lanterns flickered from nearly every window, their carved faces grinning eerily into the gloomy light.
“Oh, Mummy, look at that one!” Maisie gasped, clutching Leah’s hand and pulling her to a stop.
At the end of the lane, one house had outdone all the others.
Fake cobwebs stretched over the stone walls, orange and purple fairy lights twinkling along the gutters, and a ghost – clearly someone’s old bedsheet with eyes cut out – billowing eerily from the washing line.
A wooden sign, scrawled in thick black paint, hung by the door: Trick or Treaters Welcome – If You Dare!
Maisie clasped her hands together in glee. “We must go there, Mummy! I know they’ll have the best sweets.”
Leah squeezed her daughter’s hand. “You be thankful for whatever you get, miss. And remember, it’s Auntie Erica taking you tonight.”
Maisie gave a little squeal of excitement, practically bouncing in her boots. “I can’t wait! We’ve got to make sure she sees my cape straight away. I know she’ll love it!”
Leah chuckled, shaking her head as they carried on home. How had her daughter become so completely obsessed with Halloween?
This year, it was as if the excitement had taken on a life of its own.
For weeks, Maisie had been crossing off the days on the witch-shaped countdown board by her bed, chosen carefully at the autumn market. Each morning another number disappeared beneath bright orange chalk.
Her room told the rest of the story. Ghost cushions, a pumpkin nightlight glowing softly after dark, and her newest treasure from Auntie Erica: a black cat with tiny bat wings she’d named Spooky.
Leah smiled to herself, watching Maisie skip ahead, her laughter ringing out against the quiet streets.
Tonight would be special.
With Dylan back on the rigs, the house felt still when they arrived home.
Too still at times, although the usual thump of their over-excitable dog, Dusty, made up for it.
Dinner was already made, the warm scent of slow-cooked chilli filling the kitchen.
Leah exhaled, feeling a flicker of satisfaction.
Maybe, for once, everything would go smoothly.
“I need to get dressed!” Maisie declared, kicking off her school shoes and making a beeline for the stairs.
“Maisie Moo, no! Dinner first!” Leah called after her, but it was useless. Her daughter’s excitement had reached an unstoppable level. Leah sighed. Maybe that was the streak of stubborn determination she and Erica shared.
Erica.
Leah checked her phone. Still no message.
Frowning, she called her. Maybe Erica would want to grab a quick bite before heading out.
Leah had even tucked away an old mummy costume from a long-forgotten staff Halloween party – just in case Erica had forgotten to dress up and needed to borrow.
But there she was again, trying to plan for her sister, to anticipate every possible scenario.
Will I ever stop worrying about her?
Maisie finally sat down, reluctantly eating only a small portion of chilli before solemnly declaring that it was best to “leave room for sweets”.
Leah rolled her eyes but let it slide.
Her phone buzzed. Dylan.
She answered, tucking it between her ear and shoulder as she cleared the bowls.
“Hey, how’s our little witch?” Dylan’s voice was warm, though there was a weariness underneath it.
“Bouncing off the walls, as expected.” Leah smiled, but the smile faded when Maisie suddenly looked up from the couch.
“Mummy, where’s Auntie Erica?”
Leah hesitated.
“Is she not there?” Dylan asked.
“I haven’t actually heard from her today …” Leah admitted. Or yesterday, she thought, but didn’t say it.
There was a beat of silence.
Dylan’s voice dropped. “Leah … was it wise to get her involved? Maisie’s been looking forward to this for weeks. And your sister … well, she’s not exactly …”
Leah’s stomach clenched. She knew what he was about to say.
“Don’t.” The word came out so abruptly that Maisie looked over.
Dylan hesitated before backtracking. “I just mean … she’s not been the most reliable lately. If she lets Maisie down—”
“She won’t.” The words came out too quickly.
But even as she said it, doubt crept in.
Dylan sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
When he hung up, Leah turned back to Maisie, who was sitting on the couch, still clutching the edge of her cape, eyes flickering to the door every few seconds.
Waiting.
Leah clenched her jaw.
She wouldn’t let Maisie wait all night.
Grabbing her car keys, she forced a smile. “Come on, let’s go get Auntie Erica.”
Maisie blinked. “At her house?”
Leah nodded.
The streets were already starting to fill with small groups of children clutching treat buckets as they darted from door to door. A little ghost and a tiny vampire waved as Leah hurried Maisie into the car.
“Come back to ours in an hour!” she called after them before pulling the car into gear.
Maisie sat quietly, the sudden change in plan unsettling her. “Auntie Erica knows she’s taking me, right?”
Leah gripped the steering wheel. “She knows.”
But as they neared the cliffside cottage, dread tightened in her chest.
The house was in darkness.
Leah stopped the car, engine humming against the silence. The wind had picked up, making the nearby trees rustle and sway.
“Stay in the car,” she told Maisie, pushing the driver’s door open.
The gravel crunched under her boots as she strode to the back door, rapping her knuckles against it.
Nothing.
She tried again, harder this time. “Erica?”
Still nothing.
She moved to the front door. Knocked. Waited.
Darkness.
She stepped back, looking up at the windows. Not a single light on.
Going around the side of the house, she peered through the kitchen window, pressing her face to the glass.
Just darkness.
A cold breeze lifted her hair, sending a shiver down her spine.
Where was she?
And then – anger.
A sharp, hot flicker of fury.
How could she do this? Of all nights, how could she let Maisie down?
Jaw tight, Leah turned back to the car.
Maisie was watching her from the passenger seat, cape pooled around her shoulders, eyes wide with hope.
Leah’s heart clenched.
She took a breath.
Then forced a smile onto her face. She would not let Erica ruin this for Maisie.
“Well,” she said lightly, yanking open the car door. “Looks like it’s me tonight, kiddo.”