But then who in their right mind would want to live for fucking ever?
I know what I need to do.
19EDEN
October 30
I have no idea what to do.
“She. Is. Not. My. Mother.”
Gabriella whispers the words again, her eyes wide and wild, sitting up in the bed looking like a ghost. Then she opens her mouth to scream and a strangled sound comes out. She hasn’t spoken a word forten years, nowthisafter just six months of living at The Manor. The woman in white stares at her in horror, then turns to stare at me, before trying to comfort the girl.
I don’t understand what is happening.
Have I gone mad?
Maybe I’m not who I think I am.
But if I’m not me, who am I?
My daughter hasn’t spoken, or laughed, or cried, or frowned for a decade. But when the other woman in the room isn’t looking, Gabriella turns her face toward me and slowly smiles. It’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.
I can’t breathe, my heart is beating too fast and it feels as though someone is pressing on my chest. The room seems to tilt and I lose my balance, stumbling backward toward the door. Looking for a way out. This is all too much,sheis too much—she always was—and Ican’t take any more. I used to love her but now Ihateher. I wish she had never been born. They are thoughts no mother should have, and as always, the thoughts soon translate into guilt. Being a good parent and being a good person are not the same thing and I’m so tired of trying to be both.
I run out of Gabriella’s room. I run past all her perfect paintings of Spyglass, along the corridor, and toward the spiral staircase. The woman in white calls after me but I don’t stop, won’t turn back, can’t answer. I just need to get out of here. It feels like I can’t trust anyone, including myself. The grandfather clock in the hallway of The Manor starts to chime midnight as I hurry down the stairs, and I feel a curious sense of relief that this awful day is finally over. But my problems are not behind me, I’m surrounded by them now. I lock myself inside my car. My hands tremble as I switch on the engine and grip the steering wheel. I drive as fast and as far away as I am able, along narrow country lanes, weaving through Blackmoor in the dark. My tears blur my vision, making it almost impossible to see, but I don’t pull over. I don’t even know where I am going. I have nowhere left to go and nobody to turn to.
The network of lanes that twist through the vast, untamed moorland are silent and empty at this time of night. I’m scared and exhausted and when the car makes an unfamiliar noise I panic. I stare at the dashboard and see the red warning light I ignored earlier. The Range Rover seems to take control of itself and starts to slow down. Damn Harrison for persuading me to get an electric vehicle. It is out of charge and I am out of time. The speedometer slowly decreases until I come to a halt. The car turns itself off and I sit in the dark. There are no streetlights out here. I can’t see anything at all.
I am somewhere in Blackmoor National Park but I have no idea where. It is the middle of the night. It is cold. Pitch-black. And I don’t have a phone so I can’t call for help. I don’t dare to get out of the car—there is nothing and no one for miles, I wouldn’t even know what direction to walk in, and I don’t even have a coat to keepme warm. I find the bag I took from the house earlier, but there is nothing useful inside except for the cashmere sweater covered in stars. I pull it on to combat the cold but it offers little comfort. I’m stuck and I’m trapped and I’m scared. I cry.Reallycry. And when I close my eyes and rest my head on the steering wheel, I somehow fall asleep.
The sound of a phone ringing wakes me.
At first, I don’t know where I am. I’m so cold it hurts, and when I open my eyes I see clouds of my own breath inside the car. It’s freezing. I sit perfectly still for a second, trying to isolate the ringing sound. It’s coming from the glove compartment. I couldn’t find my phone anywhere when I searched the house last night; if I had it I’m sure there must besomeonein my list of contacts I could call. Someone who could confirm who I am, because even I’m starting to doubt myself. But when I open the glove compartment it is not my mobile that I find. The phone I see is inside a clear plastic bag. It looks cheap and basic, and I do not recognize it. The phone rings again and the display saysNO CALLER ID. When I answer it, whoever is calling hangs up. I stare at the screen and almost drop the phone when it vibrates with a text message.
Eden, everything is going to be okay. Go to our special place at sunrise. I’ll be there. Love you to the moon and back. x
I take out the key chain Harri gave me when we bought the house. It has my name on the front and the same words,love you to the moon and back, engraved on the other side. He gave it to me during a champagne picnic at the top of the cliffs overlooking Hope Falls. Next to the waterfall that gave the village its name. Idon’t know where I am now—other than somewhere in the national park—but I know where Harri wants me to meet him. I try to switch on the car but of course it doesn’t start, so I begin to panic.
I stare out of the windscreen and see that itisdawn. There is just a sliver of light on the dark horizon, but it’s enough for me to finally see where I am. Hope Falls is visible in the distance, a mile away at most. I was so close, but I was so lost I didn’t know it. I grab the phone, clamber out of the car, and start to run. Down the hill and along the deserted country lanes, into Hope Falls and toward the sea. I run past the Saltwater Gallery where I should have had my first exhibition last night. I run past The Smuggler’s Inn and the Driftwood Café. Everything is perfectly still and calm and quiet. Too quiet. The silence swells like the incoming tide and I know it might drown me. I’m so tired I can’t think straight, but I’ll be okay once I see Harrison again. I just need to know that he still loves me. He said to meet at sunrise and I just hope I’m not too late.
I reach the church and run up the coast path toward the cliffs. I pass an old man walking his dog, but there is nobody else out and about at this early hour. The sea gets louder the farther I run away from the village. The thoughts swirling inside my head are loud too, and running is normally the only thing that can silence them, but not today.
Can I really trust Harrison after the last twenty-four hours?
I don’t have a choice.
I don’t have anyone else to turn to or anywhere else to go.
And despite everything, I still love him.
When I reach the top of the cliffs Harrison isn’t there.
I’m too hot after running up the hill, so I pull off the pretty cashmere sweater covered in stars and drop it on the ground. Then I try to catch my breath, but it does not want to be caught.
I take out the phone I found in the car, but there is no signal up here so I slip it back inside the bag I found it in and into my pocket. Then I stand at the edge of the cliff while I wait for my husband,peering down at an angry sea and the giant waves crashing on the rocks below, wondering how and why my life has unraveled the way it has.
As though I don’t already know.
