‘Is she OK?’ I ask, rising. ‘Is Neil with her?’
‘No, he’s not with us. He’s working in Wales.’ She races towards the door, her coat flapping open. Stops. Glances back. ‘Elise said she saw someone looking in the window.’ She takes a breath. ‘Someone wearing a mask.’
‘Oh God,’ I say, my heartbeat picking up speed.
‘I’m sure it’s nothing; you know what she can be like.’
I nod, recalling Elise – the way she told stories.
But then I’d seen the masks last time we were here – we all had.
‘She hasn’t said anything like this in a long time,’ Rosamund adds. And with that, she flutters her fingers, and heads out into the snowy night.
Chapter 9
Present Day
Ruth
I rarely show my annoyance. Normally I keep it bottled up, out of reach, not for human consumption. In fact, the last time I got angry was when Finn’s wife came looking for him. That woman soon scurried away with her tail between her legs. But all evening Amelia’s been pushing my buttons; talking loud, inhibitions lowered by alcohol. She should take note of her brother Thomas. He remained sober – a decent man.
I remember watching my husband drink too much each night – drowning his sadness, he said. I never needed alcohol to drown mine. The thing is, people spiral out of control when they drink too much. There are no exceptions.
And now, as I enter the conservatory once more, expecting everyone to have gone back to their cottages, Amelia is still here, alone, rocking her chair backwards and forwards, sipping yet more wine as she twiddles her red hair round her fingers.
‘You should leave now,’ I say, folding my arms. ‘The dining room closes at nine, and it’s almost ten-thirty.’
Amelia looks up at me. Shows no sign of moving.
‘Finn!’ I call out, and he appears through the door behind me looking flushed. He’s probably been out for a brisk walk; he often goes out in the evening as part of his fitness regime.
Amelia turns and smiles at him. ‘Finn,’ she says, swinging her arm in the air in an exaggerated wave. ‘How lovely to see you again.’
‘Hey, shall I get you back to your cottage?’ he says, walking towards her and, taking hold of her arms, he pulls her to her feet.
‘I’m sure the lass can find her own way,’ I say. ‘Just point her towards the door, son.’
Amelia threads an arm through Finn’s and leans against him. ‘You smell nice,’ she says.
I grind my teeth, turn, and head back into the main house, slamming the door behind me, disgusted by the young woman’s behaviour.
Chapter 10
Present Day
Amelia
Snow swirls and twirls from the night sky, and I stick out my tongue. Try to catch flakes.
‘Are you a bit of a mummy’s boy, Finn?’ I’m clinging to his arm as he guides me through the snow, brandishing a torch to light our way. I’m regretting the amount of wine I’ve drunk, as I’m at that stage where crap falls from my mouth. I shouldn’t use alcohol to drown out real life, but sometimes it’s just too easy. ‘She’s ever so, ever so, much possessive of you.’
‘You think?’ He sounds amused by me.
‘Mmm.’ I screw up my nose, and stare up at him. ‘It’s kind of obvious.’
‘I guess she’s relied on me over the years. She means well.’ He shrugs and avoids my gaze. ‘Just cares a bit too much, I guess. She’s had a hard time of it over the years. What with …’
‘With?’
‘Oh nothing,’ he says, and despite my intoxicated state, something tells me not to pry.
‘Should we check Elise is OK, do you think?’ I say, as we pass Primrose Cottage where Rosamund and Elise are staying.
He shakes his head. ‘It’s in darkness. They’re probably asleep by now.’
‘But Elise saw a masked face peering in her window, Finn. That’s what she told Rosamund. And remember last time?’
‘It’s unlikely anyone peered in at her, Amelia. We’re miles from anywhere, and the weather is awful. Elise probably imagined it.’
‘She’s pretty imaginative,’ I agree, recalling her from the last time I was here.
‘And it’s quite creepy around here; can play tricks with your mind.’
I stop and look about me, my eyes falling on a set of footprints heading from Primrose Cottage towards the forest. ‘Oh God, who made those?’ I clench tighter onto Finn’s arm, my heartbeat picking up speed. ‘Someone else is here, Finn. Oh God, Elise was right.’ I sound a bit manic.
Finn is silent for a while, his eyes on the footprints. It appears that whoever made them walked to Primrose Cottage, and returned the way they came.
‘Do you think Rosamund has seen the footprints? Should we tell her?’ I say.
‘Tomorrow. Whoever it was has gone now.’
I shudder, unsure whether it’s from fear or the freezing conditions. ‘But—’
‘Amelia!’ It’s Dad, hurrying through the snow towards us in his long winter coat, his arms folded around his body.
‘You can head back now,’ I say to Finn, releasing him. ‘My dad will walk me the rest of the way.’
‘Oh. Right. OK.’
‘Thanks for bringing me this far – you’re very kind.’ I rise onto my toes, and kiss his cold cheek.
‘No problem.’ He raises his gloved hand in a wave, before turning and trudging back, his head down.
Dad and I carry on towards our cottage.
‘I was getting worried about you,’ he says. ‘Though I shouldn’t have been. Finn seems a nice guy.’
‘Get that look off your face, Dad. He’s not my type.’ It’s a lie. I like him. But a relationship, or even a brief fling, is the furthest thing from my thoughts right now, especially when a possessive mother looms large. I open my mouth to tell him about the footprints, but he speaks first.
‘Odd that Rosamund is here, don’t you think?’
I nod. ‘She says she needs closure, Dad. Wants us all to forgive her for not being there for Mum.’
‘Oh, I see. Well she won’t be getting any forgiveness from me, that’s for sure.’
I glance over my shoulder
