I remember she said she was visiting her sister. ‘Your sister lives in this village?’
‘Yes. Clara Gummage. She runs the little pharmacist in the high street. I’ve just spent the morning with her. When I leave on Saturday I probably won’t see her for another year. She can’t really afford to travel over to me.’
Mrs Gummage is Janice’s sister? They couldn’t be more different. Mrs Gummage looks like she’s biting down on something nasty half the time and Janice is so chatty.
Janice plonks Horace at her feet. ‘Goodness, he’s so heavy. He’s getting fat.’
That’s an understatement. I force back a chuckle.
She heads towards the stairs, Horace at her heels. ‘You know …’ she says, turning to survey me, one hand on the banister. She has that unnerving look in her eye again, the one she gets before she starts spouting off about energies and murders. Sure enough, ‘… there’s still a bad energy about this place. You must be careful, dear,’ she says. ‘Those mountains and hills …’
I try to hide my annoyance.
She closes her eyes. ‘Bad things have happened here. And there is more to come.’
‘Stop it!’ I blurt out.
She opens her eyes in surprise. ‘Pardon?’
‘I said stop it. I can’t hear this kind of talk, Janice. I’m sorry. I have two children to think about. And Ruby, who’s just lost her mother. I don’t want to hear it.’
She steps back down from the stairs and comes closer. I can smell the rain on her. ‘I’m sorry, dear, but it’s got to be said. This place isn’t good. It has a history. A bad history. Everybody who’s lived here has had a terrible life. Over the last thirty years it’s been empty more than it’s been occupied. And there’s a reason for that.’
‘So what do you think I should do?’ I’m humouring her, but now I want to know what she’s trying to say.
She lifts her shoulders. She has on a brown coat over her favoured caftan and thick tights. ‘If you want my honest opinion, I don’t think you’ll find happiness here, in this house. It’s cursed. I know you don’t believe me, and that’s fine. But I’m telling you.’
I fold my arms across my chest. I spot a tea stain on my jumper. ‘Well, thanks for that.’
She steps even closer so that I can see the fine hairs above her top lip. She touches my hand softly. ‘I like you. And your family. You’re good people. But I know the history of this house. Not just going back to Violet Brown but after that. I grew up here, remember? As kids we were terrified of this place. Right creepy it was. By the church and all. Derelict for years. Nobody would touch it with a barge pole. But I doubt the estate agents told you all that when you looked around it, did they?’
She moves away from me and scoops up Horace. ‘Going to have a nap now. I’m sorry to scare you, my dear. Your face – you look petrified. I’d feel dreadful, though, if something else happened here. You might think I’m just a bit batty, or that the whole psychic thing is mumbo-jumbo, but you need to know the truth. This place is cursed.’
I watch her walking up the stairs. Janice is obviously trying to unsettle me. But I can’t figure out why.
Adrian isn’t at his desk. His laptop is closed and a stack of A4 paper is in a pile by the side, face down so that I can’t see the words. I wonder if he’s gone for a run. There is a photograph of me and the girls on his desk, taken when we first moved here, near one of the waterfalls. I have my arms around both of them and we’re all smiling, our faces lightly tanned, me and Evie blonde and wild beside Amelia’s chic dark looks. I wonder how Amelia is getting on at her playdate. I miss them both when they’re not with me – I’m used to seeing more of them now we’ve moved here.
The bed is unmade and the curtains are still shut, even though it’s nearly lunchtime, so I draw the curtains and tug down the sides of the duvet, smoothing the middle. Tidying, always tidying. If I’m busy I don’t have to think.
I hear someone clear their throat and jump. Julia is standing in the doorway. She doesn’t step into the room and seems almost embarrassed, as if she’s walked in on Adrian and me naked in bed.
‘I checked on Ruby,’ she says. ‘I think she might have asthma.’
‘I wonder why it wasn’t picked up before. She’s been in and out of hospitals so …’ I trail off. ‘What?’ I ask, when I see Julia’s about to speak.
‘It could be caused by stress. After everything.’
I’m not sure if she’s referring to Selena’s death or the suspected Munchausen syndrome by proxy. I don’t reply.
‘I’m going to write a prescription for an inhaler. But you need to speak to your own GP as soon as possible.’ She sounds stern and I get a flash of what she must be like at work. I feel a wave of love towards her when I think about what I know. And what she doesn’t.
We fall silent when we hear Nathan’s voice on the stairs and I feel a punch of anxiety to my gut, as if I’m about to go into an exam. She smiles. Trusting, lovely Julia, about to walk into the lion’s den. I give her a quick but firm hug.
‘What’s that for?’ She laughs when we pull apart.
‘Just thank you.’
‘Oh, you,’ she says, blushing as she moves away. She gives me another dazzling smile and disappears down the stairs. I stare at the spot where she was standing, as if the energy of her is still there, and I’m overcome with sadness. I’m feeling emotional not just about Julia but about Selena. And Ruby. And all of it.
