Tom glared up at her as she approached, his harassed look giving her flashbacks of a grumpy old math teacher she’d had back in high school. Feeling she was about to get told off, she tugged down the edge of her dress, threw her shoulders back and stood as confidently as she could muster in front of his desk. “Ah, Laney says you have accommodation booked for me?”
Tom sighed, lifted a large battered folder from the floor as if he resented every second of movement, opened it, and scanned his finger down a list. “Jess Williams?”
“That’s me.”
“Bit last minute.”
“Yes, it—” Jess started to explain, but Tom held up a hand to cut her off. Definitely a reincarnation of her math teacher.
“We have you in a cottage.” He scribbled out an address and passed it to her.
“Sounds perfect. Thank you.”
Through Tom’s droning instructions about finding and unlocking the cottage, she tried to concentrate, and failed. Abruptly, he stopped talking. He returned the accommodationfolder to the floor and his attention to another number-filled book.
She stood awkwardly in front of him for a second, clutching the scrap of paper with the address. Surely there should be a hall pass or a bell signalling the end of class? Realising Tom was done with her, she made her way outside to her car.
With peak traffic, the old Rangiora Hospital site was a two-hour drive from her flat in the suburbs of Christchurch City. She’d considered driving back and forth each day, but Laney had insisted accommodation was sorted for everyone. Now, after such a long day, and with a month of long days to come, it was a relief to have a room nearby. It came as part of the deal, so why not?
Leaving her clients at the last minute still gnawed at her, but perhaps she could treat it like a summer vacation? Away from work, away from the city, away from Dave. A bunch of new workmates, who mostly seemed like good sorts. She could easily avoid the ones who didn’t—Nate Mitchell immediately coming to mind.
Her best friend, Poppy, had promised to collect her mail and feed the cat, and told her to go enjoy herself.Yes,Jess decided as she reached her car;this could be fun after all.
FINDING THE COTTAGE IN THE DARKproved more of a challenge than she’d expected. Jess plugged the address into her phone’s GPS and followed the British-accented instructions as they led her out of the township of Rangiora and into the surrounding rural area. The streetlights faded into the distance, and Jess peered into the dark void. Even flicking her headlights on to full beam hardly made a dent in the pitch-black, moonless night.
“I hope you know where you’re going,” she said out loud to her phone, “because this is getting creepy.” She turned up her music to break the eerie silence. After a long stretch driving straight into the black night, the GPS told her to turn left and then, finally, announced her arrival at the destination.
In the dark, Jess could barely make out the small cottage. From the shadowy shapes around it, the cottage appeared to be surrounded by enormous trees and a neatly hedged rose garden. As far as she could tell, it was in the middle of nowhere, but then she could only see a few metres in front of her, so perhaps there were other houses. Who would know? From the silence, Jess suspected any neighbours were quietly sleeping, or the cottage was actually as isolated as it felt.
She tried to shove thoughts of graphic horror movie scenes from her mind, regretting her movie preferences.
Why couldn’t you be a romcom girl?she scolded herself.
Then, taking a breath, Jess grabbed her suitcase from the back seat, flipped on her phone’s light, and walked down the path to the cottage, her heels unsteady in the loose gravel. She shook them off as she approached the front door, holding them in one hand and dragging her wheeled carry-on behind her with the other.
Tom had said the key would be on a window ledge near the door. Dropping her suitcase handle, Jess shone her phone torch around the windows. The light caught on the key, already in the keyhole. The owners must have left it there, knowing it would be hard to find in the dark. How thoughtful.
The door opened with a slight shove, and the smell of roses, and something a little muskier she couldn’t pinpoint, greeted her. She flicked the switch near the door, flooding the quaintcountry-style room with light, and all her previous fears melted away.
The lounge and kitchen made one snug space with an open red-brick fireplace on one wall and, even though it won’t be needed for months, a tidy stack of wood piled up against the other, all ready for winter. The owners had gone with a rose theme: a wood-framed painting of a pink bloom hung near the kitchen, rose-patterned curtains covered the two windows above the sink, and a bouquet of pink and yellow roses in a vase sat on the small wooden table. That accounted for the scent of roses that met her at the door.
Jess placed her bag and heels near the door, locking it behind her, a cosy reassurance washing over her. It was all so cute and old-fashioned. She wouldn’t be surprised to find a chicken coop in the backyard or an apple orchard.
It was perfect.
In fact, it was the kind of house she’s been secretly dreaming of buying. Still a dream at this stage. She hasn’t even told her best friend Poppy, but living here for a month would be a taster of the future she’d been secretly imagining for herself.
She sighed with relief, and a tension she hadn’t known was there dropped from her shoulders.
Barefoot, Jess found the bathroom, complete with clawfoot bath and a gold-leaf decorative mirror, and pulled her fingers through her long hair. She turned on the hot tap, which ran warm immediately, and splashed water on her face. A small fluffy towel waited for her next to the sink to dry off.
Comforting, that was the word for this place.
It reminded her of days at her grandfather’s house. Everything laid out for her. Someone taking care of the detailsso she could relax. When was the last time she felt cared for like that?
Shimmying out of her black dress, she left it in a crumpled mess on the floor, almost expecting to find it hanging up and ironed in the morning. Although that would be creepy. The summer night air felt warm enough not to bother rummaging through her bag to find pyjamas. All she wanted right now was sleep. As quickly as possible.
In her black lace underwear, Jess switched off the bathroom and lounge lights and turned on the hallway one. She walked the short distance to the only other door in the cottage, endearingly labelled “bedroom” with a gold engraved plaque, and turned the handle.
