Slowly opening the drawer, I pick out a pair of joggers, a t-shirt, and hoodie, then creep into the bathroom to change. Dan’s here, still wearing last night’s clothes after pulling an all nighter.
“Everything good?”
He nods. “I’ll deal with this.” He flashes the necklace he took from Malcolm. “Thieving bastard thought he got away with it.”
“His biggest mistake wasn’t taking the necklace. It was going after my girl.”
“He had a buyer already lined up, you know.” He slips it through his fingers as if holding a live snake in front of his face. The morning sun bounces off the rubies and diamonds, creating a prism on the wall. “I wonder how much we could get for it. Billy knows Malcolm stole it. Nobody knows we have it.”
Once I might’ve been tempted. Billy only paid me to find Poppy. He went through her flat with a fine-tooth comb like the cat burglar he is, but came up empty. That’s when he paid me to stalk her, watch her every move, to find out what happened to the piece.
“We can’t sell it, Dan. It’s not ours to sell, and you know it.”
He wraps the snake in a tea towel, handling it with care. “I was afraid you’d say that. It really is love.”
The corner of my lips curl. I don’t deny it. I’m so into her that love doesn’t even come close to how I feel about her. It’s consuming. My fierce fox is everything I crave. I need her like I need my next breath.
“Hang on to the necklace. Keep it safe for now, then I’ll ask her what she wants to do with it.”
Dan stuffs it into a bag. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I snatch the keys from the hook and lock the door behind us, leaving Poppy asleep inside.
22
POPPY
When I wake, Dom is gone again. I shiver under the duvet and check the time on the phone on the bedside table. To my surprise, it’s almost twelve. Working nights, I usually sleep in, but never till lunch time. My stomach rumbles thinking of lunch.
The holdall with my things sits to the side of the room. I can’t be arsed to unpack it again. Not knowing how long I’m going to be here, I just can’t see the point.
I stay under the duvet a little longer. The patchwork floral bedspread covering the black sheets looks handmade. Not what I expected Dom to have on his bed at all, along with the tapestry on the wall. It’s rustic but also homely, and I love it.
Eventually I make a move. After visiting the bathroom, I pad into the hall, looking for Dom. The lodge is quiet, but in a peaceful way. I’m surprised by the modern kitchen, dark blue units and cream appliances. The kitchen and bathroom have clearly been renovated recently, but the charm and character of the rest of the rooms has been left untouched.
I glide my fingers over the cream granite worktop, then lift a handwritten note.
Running a few errands. If you need anything, text me. There’s some cereal in the cupboard and long-life milk in the fridge.
I make myself scrambled eggs. Then when he’s still not back, out of curiosity, I try the door. Surprise, surprise, he’s locked me in. Although I am on the ground floor so if I needed to escape I could smash a window.
For now, I’m content to stay if it means being with Dom and being safe. After seeing Malcolm in the club, his repugnant presence polluting the atmosphere, I never want to go back there. Bile rises in my throat at the thought of seeing him again and having his malicious eyes on me.
Staring out the kitchen window as I wash my pots, something catches my eye in the woods that surround his home. A black shadow moving between the trees. Icy fingers claw up my spine, my ears pound with the screech of claws along a chalkboard.
The plate in my hand slips from my fingers and splashes in the sink. I take deep breaths. Dom’s voice in my head soothes me as I repeat his words, ‘breathe, baby. Just breathe.’ When I’m able to think clearly again, I look back out through the kitchen window and see a squirrel climbing a tree.
I’m safe here. The doors are locked. I can’t get out, so nobody can get in. It’s just in my head. I pour a glass of milk, dousing out the acid in my throat, and try to think about something else. My mind drifts to Dom and a smile pushes my cheeks up. I’ve sort of become addicted to the dopamine rush he gives me from a single peck on the nose.
After tidying the kitchen, I explore the rest of the lodge. The living room houses a log burner despite having modern underfloor central heating warming my bare feet as I pad through the rooms. Old wooden furniture stands on either side of the fireplace, one like an old TV cupboard and the other a tall bookcase.
My fingers trail over the books, wondering which are Dom’s and which he’s inherited like the Catherine Cookson collection filling up an entire shelf. I pull out The Mallen Streak, then fluff a cushion on the large window seat before curling up in the bay window with a tartan blanket draped over the side.
Rain patters against the glass, reminding me of being in the tin van with Mum when I was a child. Rainy days were always my favourite. She would make hot chocolate, and we would play a board game at the small dinette while the thundering din of rain clattered against the metal. She loved that tin can and so did I until I grew up and it just wasn’t big enough for the both of us.
As a teenager, living in such a small confinement with your mother was a recipe for disaster, but I regret arguing with her now. The police said it was carbon monoxide poisoning. I found it hard to believe at first. She was always so meticulous when it came to safety, and keeping me safe was her number one priority. A little too overprotective and overbearing at times, which led me to run away at sixteen. Had I been there, maybe she would still be alive today.
I sigh, thinking of Dominic and how he’s just like my mother in that respect; wanting to keep me safe. It’s comforting even if it is a little much.
