Sinking down onto the plush carpet, I pull out a pair with silver straps and a dragonfly buckle on the side. Hardly daring to breathe I slip my feet into them, the straps pinching as they are ever so slightly too small. I stand, wobbly on the spindly heels, and steady myself as I am assaulted by a flashback – myself, at around ten years old, trying on my mother’s high heels as she prepared to go out for the night with the man who would eventually become my stepfather, and her second husband.
‘Look at me, Mum! I look just like you!’ I wobble towards her, as she slicks red lipstick around her mouth, pouting and smacking her lips together in the mirror.
‘Hey, be careful!’ Finally, my mother turns to look at me as I stagger my way across the threadbare carpet towards her, arms outstretched. ‘Don’t you snap those heels. I want to wear those tonight.’
I slip the shoes off and hand them to my mother, unsure as how to she could possibly manage to spend the whole night upright while wearing them. I blink back tears at her harsh tone, and when she hears me sniffing, she turns to me, her face softening.
‘Silly thing, don’t cry.’ She pulls me towards her, and I snuggle into her shoulder, the silky fabric of her dress cool against my skin. I breathe in her heavy perfume, something thick and cloying but it doesn’t matter, she smells like my mum. ‘I just need to wear those killer heels tonight. John won’t know what’s hit him, and before you know it, we’ll be a proper family.’ She spins around with me in her arms and kisses my face until I shriek and giggle. ‘Honestly, little one,’ she sobers now, sitting me down on the bed as she puts the finishing touches to her make-up, ‘you don’t want to live here forever, do you? If John and I get married we can get out of here, go and live in his big house, all of us together. You want Mummy to be happy, don’t you?’ She shoos me into bed, and then I hear the click of the lock on the front door and the clacking of her heels down the path towards the man she thinks will turn our lives around.
Now, I slide the shoes off and place them back exactly where they were, not wanting Rupert to know that I’ve been in here. My mother did snare John, but that was years ago, and now she’s living in Florida with her fifth or sixth husband – I forget which number she’s on now – but she lives in a huge house and doesn’t have to think about money. Just like Caro. From the little that Sadie said about Caro earlier, she lived a charmed life right from when she was young. I stroke the arm of a fur coat, the pelt thick and glossy. It feels remarkably real – if it’s a fake, then it’s a good one. How would it feel, I wonder, to have all of this? To live the life that Caro lived?
The thunk of a car door closing outside brings me back to myself, and I slam the wardrobe door closed, half of me regretting that I didn’t take the time while I could to quickly try on the silky fur, the seductive feel of it luring me in, even though I am against real fur, while the other half of me feels grubby at the very thought of trying on a dead woman’s clothes. Peering out of the landing window, I see Rupert getting out of his car, his face ruddy and his hair sweaty as he pulls his gym bag from the boot.
‘Hi.’ I stop at the bottom of the stairs, as he bursts through the front door.
‘Oh, sorry. I thought you would have been gone by now.’ His face flushes and my heart skips a beat.
‘I just had a few things to finish off. I’ll get off now, get out of your hair. If you leave that bag by the washing machine, I’ll get it sorted on Monday.’
Rupert pauses for a moment, as if he wants to say something, before he gives me a small smile. ‘Thank you. For today, I mean, not the gym bag. I really appreciate you coming in on a Saturday.’
‘It’s no bother.’ I slide my feet into my trainers. ‘A woman called Sadie came over earlier – she said she’ll catch up with you later.’ I smile, even though the thought of Sadie and her chilly manner is like grit under an eyelid. ‘I’ll see you on Monday.’
‘Emily…’ Rupert says, and I wait, my heart thudding hard in my chest. ‘Oh, never mind. Have a good weekend.’
I nod and make my way down the path towards the gate, sure I can feel his eyes on me every step of the way.
Chapter Five
Rupert finds himself sliding out of the office on time a week later, something he hasn’t done for months since Caro died. He tells himself that it’s Friday night, of course he should be leaving on time, that it’s the weekend and no one else is doing any overtime – in fact, Michael – Caro’s father and Rupert’s boss – left at lunchtime, as he often does on a Friday.
An hour later, Rupert drives through the gates of Fox House, and is relieved to see that there are still lights on
