Mum’s enthusiasm is lukewarm. ‘Thank you. Another candle. It smells divine.’ Then she opens the scarf from the girls and exclaims over it, hugging them both to her and proclaiming she loves it.
‘Oh,’ she calls, as I’m about to walk off, ‘Toby Wilson and his girlfriend have checked out. They said they’ll put a review on TripAdvisor. I hope it’s a good one.’
Later, Nancy turns up and I help her with the bedrooms. She’s dealing with the tea tray in Hyacinth and straightening the beds while I hover outside Dean’s. I rap on the door and wait a few seconds. When there’s no answer I use my spare key.
I don’t know what I’m expecting to find in Dean’s room, but I’m pleasantly surprised to see it so tidy. The bed is made and his heavy rucksack sits neatly beside the chest of drawers. A jumper is folded on the duvet and a weathered copy of Stephen King’sPet Cemeterysits on the bedside table, but otherwise the room is devoid of any personal belongings. I pop my head around the door of the en-suite. His toothbrush and toothpaste are on the side of the basin, as though standing to command. I wipe around the basin and the toilet, even though there isn’t much need.What are you doing here, Dean?
I’m about to leave the room when I see something in the pocket of his rucksack. The tip of it catches the light and I edge closer for a better look. It’s one of those hunting knives, pointed and sharp-edged with a wooden handle. My mind races as I wonder what he’s planning to do with it.
A piercing scream sends chills down my spine. It’s blood-curdling and right away I know it’s Evie.
I drop my bucket of cleaning products and throw the door open with such force it bangs against the wall. Janice has come out of the room opposite. I’d assumed she’d gone out for the day, to see her sister or to take Horace on one of the many walks or waterfall trails. I dart past her and up the stairs to the attic. Evie is standing in the middle of the landing, sobbing on to Adrian’s shoulder, the china doll at her feet.
‘What is it?’ I say, my heart thumping so hard I can feel it in my throat.Is it that bloody doll again?
Adrian glances above our heads. I follow his line of vision and gasp. A noose made from rope has been attached to one of the wooden beams.
‘How … how did that get there?’ I mutter, trying not to show my shock in front of Evie.
He widens his eyes at me, trying to communicate without words. Then he turns to Evie and says, in a soothing voice, ‘Someone’s having a little joke, that’s all.’
‘Why?’ She wipes her eyes.
I kneel beside her. ‘It’s like hangman. A silly game. Nothing to be worried about.’
She frowns, tears on her cheeks. ‘I came upstairs and it was just hanging there. It’s really scary. I thought it was a snake.’ Of course. The significance of the rope would be lost on her. She’s too young to understand.
‘I know, sweetheart. Daddy’s going to take it down now, aren’t you, Daddy?’ I look pointedly at Adrian.
He stands up hurriedly and reaches for the rope that dangles down the other side of the beam. The thought that someone has been up here, in our private space, creeping around, tying nooses, makes me feel sick. But I try not to show it.
Adrian hides the noose behind his back. ‘It was just someone messing around,’ he says, smiling at Evie.
She looks calmer. Her eyes are still wild, but the tears have stopped. She bends over and picks up her doll.
‘Where’s Amelia?’ I ask.
‘She’s gone into the village,’ says Evie. She hugs the doll closer to her chest.
I feel a burst of anger. ‘On her own?’ I haven’t allowed her to do that yet, even though she’s been begging me to let her walk to school by herself now she’s in year six.
‘No. With Uncle Nathan and Aunty Jools.’
‘Ah, okay.’
‘You’re going to have to let her do it soon,’ says Adrian. ‘She’s eleven. You’re a bit over-protective.’
I shake my head, trying to convey that I don’t want to talk about this now. Not in front of Evie. ‘I’m just not ready for her to be doing ityet.’
Evie scuttles into her bedroom.
‘I don’t know whose idea of a sick joke this is but I’m not laughing,’ hisses Adrian, when Evie is out of earshot. ‘Who have you told?’
‘Nobody,’ I reply, hurt that he’d think I’d talk about it as though it’s a piece of idle gossip. ‘Mum knows, obviously, Nathan and Julia …’
‘Have you told Selena?’
‘Of course I haven’t. I wouldn’t. I’ve hardly told anyone so that it has less chance of ever getting back to the girls.’ I’d done everything I could to shield them from it.
