‘I saw a masked figure wandering around Drummondale House last night.’ Elise grinned, staring at Rosamund. ‘Truth or lie?’
‘Liar,’ Rosamund snapped, as everyone else remained silent.
Elise glared at Rosamund. ‘One day you’ll be so sorry you came into our lives,’ she yelled, and ran from the conservatory. Within moments, Neil and a flushed-cheeked Rosamund were on their feet too, and dashing out after her.
Thomas, who’d been watching everything unfold, sighed. ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.’
‘The Bard,’ Jackson said.
‘Indeed.’
‘The girl is a walking time bomb, quite frankly.’ Jackson dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘They really need to get her some kind of help.’
‘She seems quite sweet sometimes,’ Maddie said, looking puzzled by the child’s behaviour.
‘Well, she’s definitely got it in for Rosamund,’ Amelia said, rubbing her eyes, and rising to her feet. ‘Actually, I think I’ll head back too.’ She fumbled her arms into her jacket, desperate to get away. She leaned in and kissed her mum’s cheek. ‘Night, all,’ she said, turning and heading for the door.
‘Night,’ Finn said, smiling at her as she left. ‘Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’
Chapter 29
Present Day
Amelia
‘We can’t leave Ruth outside.’ Thomas’s brown eyes widen, as he drums his fingers on his knees. He’s in shock. We all are.
‘I’ll boil some water on the stove, make some strong tea,’ Maddie says, disappearing to the kitchen carrying a flickering candle.
‘Well, there’s no way I’m carrying a dead body inside,’ I say, my voice shaky. I lower myself down onto the sofa, attempting to recall the one session of mindfulness I attended just after I lost my baby. But trying to focus on it isn’t working; I’m a complete wreck. ‘You should have seen her, Thomas. It was awful.’ I cry.
Thomas moves his wheelchair closer to me, and puts on the brake. ‘We need to call the police,’ he says.
‘Can you get a signal?’ I say, tears burning my eyes. I’d tried as we walked back from finding Ruth. ‘Because I bloody well can’t, and neither can Dad.’
Thomas pulls his phone from his pocket, and shakes his head.
‘And there’s more,’ I say. ‘Elise has disappeared. She was in her room when Rosamund went out earlier, and now she’s gone.’
Thomas runs his hand over his beard. ‘Jeez. Is anyone else getting a sense of déjà vu here?’ There’s a twang of flippancy in his voice, but fear shows on his face. People handle shock differently, I tell myself.
Maddie walks from the kitchen with a tray of mugs. ‘Here you go,’ she says, passing them round. I admit I’m glad of the cuppa, the warmth of the mug in my hands. In fact, Maddie and Thomas’s lounge feels oddly cosy – the wood burner chugging out a healthy heat, a row of candles ablaze on the shelf above the fireplace, such a contrast to the bleak outside. But my body is tense. Ruth has been murdered.
Dad appears through the front door. ‘I’ve put a note on Rosamund’s door,’ he says, taking off his coat and hanging it up. ‘Said for her and Finn to make their way here when they get back. And I’ve picked up our phone chargers from our cottage too,’ he says to me, putting them down on the table. ‘We’ll charge our phones once the power’s back on.’
‘So where exactly are Finn and Rosamund?’ Maddie asks, settling herself in the armchair, as though about to watch her favourite TV drama.
‘Searching for Elise,’ I say. ‘And Ruth too, but obviously …’
‘I think we should stay together from now on,’ Dad says, putting his mug down. ‘Well, for tonight at least. We should all stay here. It’s for the best.’
‘Really?’ Thomas looks about him. ‘We’re all going to kip in here?’
‘It’s the biggest cottage, Thomas,’ I say. ‘If we stick together, we should be fine.’ I sound melodramatic, but in the circumstances I offer no excuse.
We lapse into silence as we drink our tea, before I finally put my empty mug on the table. ‘I could do with something stronger.’ I hate myself for even thinking it. I don’t want to get drunk. But a swift shot to calm my tattered nerves wouldn’t go amiss.
Dad rises. ‘I’ll get a bottle from our cottage, shall I?’ he says, heading for the door.
‘No, don’t be daft. I’m not that bothered,’ I say. It’s a complete lie. ‘Alcohol’s not the answer.’
‘Well, I’ve forgotten the question,’ he says, and I wish for a moment he wouldn’t encourage me.
Thomas makes the drumming sound people make at the end of a joke, which feels inappropriate somehow. But then what is appropriate? There’s hardly a guide on the ways to behave when you find a dead body.
‘The old ones are the best,’ Dad says dully, pulling his winter gear back on.
‘No, Dad, don’t go. I’m totally fine,’ I insist. ‘There’s no reason to go out there on your own. I’m not bothered. Truly.’
‘If I’m honest, I could do with a shot myself,’ he says, and before I can argue further, he’s gone. Slamming the door behind him.
‘You shouldn’t rely on drink so much, sis,’ Thomas says, tugging at my fear that I’m skirting around the edge of alcoholism. ‘If I can give it up, you can.’
‘You had a good reason to,’ I say. Words crowd my head. It’s a chance to talk about his accident – the reason he stopped drinking, and I want to grab it, despite my brain being already overcrowded. ‘And you’re stronger than me, Thomas,’ I say, hoping he’ll respond.
‘Are you one hundred per cent sure Ruth’s dead, Amelia?’ Maddie has broken the spell. She’s moved into the seat Dad vacated, next to me.
I nod and look up at her. ‘Dad said she had no pulse.’
‘But what if he’s wrong? Should we check, do you think?’
‘If you’d seen her injuries, Maddie.’ I gulp down a surge of anxiety. ‘You wouldn’t have doubts.’
She shakes her head, her glossy hair falling about her face. ‘Poor woman –
