‘Is everything all right?’
He shrugs, his frown deepening. ‘Just needed some air.’
‘Listen, Nathe, if you ever want to talk …’
He shakes his head. ‘It’s all fine,’ he says, the words thrown carelessly over his shoulder as he walks away.
Not talking. It’s what we do best in our family.
After purchasing the bleach and toilet cleaner, I pop into the coffee shop and order a cappuccino and a pastry, thinking of my brother and his wife. I wish Nathan would open up to me a bit more. I wish they both would. But I understand why Julia can’t – after all, Nathan is my little brother. I know she’d feel awkward admitting there might be problems.
I settle myself in the corner, enjoying the solitude. I feels a bit woozy, a dull ache at the back of my neck – I hope I’m not coming down with a virus.
Apart from an old couple at the table next to me, and the middle-aged woman at the counter, the place is empty.
I get a text message from Sian asking how it’s going and if Amelia would like to go over for a playdate with Orla on Friday. I text back eagerly. I’m excited to have contact with someone who isn’t linked to the guesthouse and I like Sian. I can see us becoming friends. And I really need a friend right now. I miss Bex and the others more than I’d thought I would.
As I trudge back along the high street, I hear shouting. I turn in the direction it’s coming from and see Dean and Selena up ahead, by the bridge. She pushes him away from her and stalks off towards the guesthouse. He follows, calling her name, his cries getting more urgent and aggressive.
‘Don’t you fucking walk away from me!’ he calls after her. ‘You’ll be sorry! Do you hear me? YOU’LL BE SORRY!’
I need to intervene. I can’t let him speak to her like that. But after a few steps he stops following her and turns away. I keep walking towards him, my heart thudding, but he strides past me. I hope he didn’t notice me.
20
The night
Selena’s quiet for the rest of the afternoon. I want to ask her about Dean and their row but I don’t have much chance as I’m run off my feet, sorting rooms, answering the phone (much to my delight – I was worried that the TripAdvisor review would put people off), fielding questions from Janice about day trips, and requests from Mr Greyson for recommendations of family-friendly restaurants.
But as I go about my chores I have a prickly feeling at the top of my spine – like you feel when there’s someone behind you – and a few times I spin round to find no one there. I had the same sensation yesterday when Lydia Ford was staring at me. Sometimes, when I’m up in the attic, I can hear Evie’s wardrobe making the sucking sound it produces when it’s opened or closed, but when I go into her room it’s empty. I think of Janice – our resident Mystic Meg – her talk of energies and past deaths, and shiver.
I knock on Dean’s door. Nancy gave his room the once-over this morning, but I’m armed with teabags as an excuse to see whether he’s there.
When there is no answer I let myself in. It looks as though he hasn’t been back since I saw him with Selena earlier. As usual his room is pristine – a contrast to Selena and Ruby’s. Again, I wonder what he wants. Why he’s here. Is he really hoping Selena will run away with him? Or is there something I’m not seeing?
As I lock Dean’s door behind me I hear crying. I stand and listen intently. Yes, someone is definitely crying. Proper, dry, gut-wrenching sobs. It’s coming from Julia and Nathan’s room. I hover outside their door, debating whether or not to go in. But it’s private, and as much as I adore Julia, I don’t want to intrude. So I walk away.
Later, when I go into the living room, Nathan is sitting there alone reading a newspaper. He says Julia’s not feeling well, leaving me wondering if they’ve had a row.
‘Is she okay?’ I blurt out. ‘I thought I heard her crying earlier.’
He looks up and irritation flickers across his face. ‘No. She’s fine. Everything’s fine.’
‘Nathe …’ I go to him but he folds the newspaper.
‘Not now.’ He stands up and runs a hand through his hair.
‘If you want to talk …’
‘You’ve already said that.’
‘I’m worried about the two of you.’
He meets my eye and, for a moment, I think he’s going to be honest with me and open up. But instead he says, ‘We’ll be fine. We always are.’
Adrian has taken the girls out to the next town to get more supplies.
‘Make sure you hold Evie’s hand,’ I call from the front door, as they clamber into the car. She has a tendency to wander off if something takes her fancy. It could be anything: a cute puppy, a newborn baby in a pram, a toy. ‘And drive carefully.’ That awful day from eighteen months ago pops into my mind and I remember the gut-wrenching fear I’d experienced, thinking I’d never see the girls again. No, I can’t think of that. That wasbefore. Adrian’s better now. He’d never do anything like that again.
