“Hi there, lovie.” She gives me a tight, worried smile and a tight,worried hug, and God, I want to press my face into her camel coat and weep into her beautiful blond plait.
I hug her longer than I should. I stare over her shoulder at my vacant, desolate land, my arms wrapped around her like a child. It’s comforting. But I don’t want to be comforted. I want to be thecomforter.I want to say, “Hi there, lovie,” while smelling of lavender and toast and driving home to my noisy children in my functional, cheerful van.
She pulls back, studies me. “How are you feeling?”
I shake uncontrollably, tremors shooting up and down my arms and legs like someone’s holding a cattle prod to them. It’s the cold wind and the fever I can’t get rid of.
“Oh dear,” she says, guiding me back through the doorway like I’ma little chicken and she’s the mother hen. “Come on, lovie. Let’s get you inside.”
Reaper’s sleeping when Emily half carries me to the couch and gently pushes aside half-eaten containers of microwaved risotto. I collapse heavily, careful not to disturb my cat, who sleeps on peacefully. I’m breathing hard, sweat breaking out on my forehead and under my arms. The walk to the front door and back was exhausting.
Emily stands over me, clicking her tongue. Her blond plait dangles in my face, and I want to reach out and playfully bat it away like a kitten with a feather toy. My head spins, and I shut my eyes tight.
“Would you like a lavender tea?” I ask Emily, eyes still closed.
She places a hand on my forehead. “Bloody hell, you’re burning up,” she frets. “Have you seen a doctor yet?”
“Yep,” I lie. “Got the flu again.”
She sighs heavily, and when I open my eyes, it’s like I’m looking at her underwater. She’s a blurry mess of camel-brown shoes, paisley skirt, and blueberry hair tie.
I swipe at the sweat above my lip, try to stand. “I’ll get you that tea,” I slur, pulling the robe tight as my knees go wobbly. Emily catches me just as my legs give way. She cries out, holds me in her arms. “My mum used to say, ‘When all else fails, put the kettle on,’ ” I mumble under her chin.
“That’s uncanny,” she says, sitting me down on the couch and propping a cushion behind my head. “That’s whatmymum used to say.”
—
Later, she brings me Vegemite toast and a steaming mug of coffee. By the time I’ve finished it, I’m no longer shaking. Even Reaper seems a bit better. He meowed softly, and Emily brought him a bowl of water. He drank a little, and I felt myself relax. He’ll make it, I tell myself. He’ll make it. We both will.
Emily nods approvingly when I sit up. “You’ve got your color back,” she says brightly. “Good thing too.” She settles back into the recliner,crossing her ankles. “I was about to drag your butt down to the doctor’s.”
Her eyes flick discreetly to my feet, and I don’t even blush when I realize I’m wearing avocado socks. How the mighty have fallen.
She glances around the room. Hesitates. “Is your husband home?”
I narrow my eyes, staring at the coffee table, thinking hard. Joe. Where is Joe? And why does the thought of him fill me with dread? My hands start to shake, and I tuck them between my knees.
“You okay, lovie?” Emily asks.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I tell her, but my voice wobbles. I’m not fine. The headaches are constant. They make me want to rip my own brain from my head. And Joe. I swallow hard. I don’t want to talk about Joe. I don’t think I want to talk about himeveragain.
“Remember how I told you about the girl who lived in this house before me?” I find Emily’s eyes. “Her name was Amanda, and she disappeared.”
Emily nods sadly and waits for me to continue. I look out the lounge window, eyes on the setting sun. “Ifeelher in this house sometimes.”
She cocks her head, and her long plait swishes to her shoulder. “And what’s she saying?”
“She’s telling me to keep searching. That she has something to show me.”
“Like what, do you think?” Emily speaks again very, very softly. Her voice is almost dreamlike. Lovely Emily.
I’ve barely spoken in days, and I’m nervous and jumpy, and my words come out in a long, crazy babble. “She wants to tell me what happened to her. Why she disappeared.”
She scrunches her face up, like she’s thinking hard. But I get the feeling she’s doing it only for my benefit. Uneasily, I wonder if she believes me at all. God, what if she was sent here by Jeff? My heart feels like a rock. I couldn’t handle Emily betraying me. Not Emily.
I place the mug firmly on the coffee table, and Reaper stirs in his sleep. “Did anybody send you here?”
She doesn’t react. “Why would someone send me here?” That soft voice again.
