“Also in her room.”
Elaine must’ve heard the bell after all because she suddenly appeared in the hall. Her hair was combed, and she’d swapped her tracksuit for a white blouse and dolphin-gray slacks.
“There you are,” Natalie said softly. She opened her arms to her friend, and Elaine stepped into the embrace with a sigh.
Una returned to the living room and resumed her work. She tried not to listen to the two women, but certain phrases drifted out of the kitchen. She heard “nightmare” and “no one knows” and “can’t explain” and “Jimmy took off work” and “what can we do?”
After a flurry of whispers, the women seemed to forget about Una’s presence and spoke at a normal volume.
Natalie said, “Sailing class is canceled next week.”
“I don’t think Charles will be going back.”
“Has he said anything?”
“No.”
“Jill won’t talk about it, either. When I got home after the open house, which was a total disaster, I found her on the sofa with her head on Jimmy’s lap. He was stroking her hair and drinking whiskey. As soon as I saw them, I knew something was wrong.”
Cupboards were opened and closed. The refrigerator sighed. A spoon clinked against porcelain. Then the women carried their coffee into the dining room.
“He had a glass waiting for me on the table,” Natalie continued. “We never drink whiskey neat. It scared me. Seeing Jill in his lap like that scared me, too.”
“I wonder if Jill saw what Charles saw.” Elaine paused for a heartbeat before adding, “Do you think they feel guilty? Like they know something that could get someone in trouble? An older kid maybe? Or an instructor?”
After a short silence, Natalie said, “I don’t know. Jill gets this look on her face when she feels guilty, and I didn’t see that. She just retreated inside herself. The only thing she said was that she was worried about Charles.”
“Really?” Elaine’s voice lifted.
“Jimmy got her into bed and was getting ready to turn out her light when she said, ‘I hope Charles is okay.’”
Elaine made a strangled sound, and Una pushed the vacuum into the master bedroom and closed the door behind her.
She didn’t want to hear any more.
But as she sprayed the bathroom mirrors with Windex, scrubbed the toilet, and picked up Elaine’s damp towel, she pictured Charles and Jill in their beds, their bodies curled like nautilus shells, and wished she could wipe away their memories of the regatta.
Two boys.
Lost.
She dusted and vacuumed the bedroom, straightened the wrinkled comforter, and kept her face averted from the window.
All she had to do was raise the shade to see Mrs. Smith’s house.
Eel’s Nest.
She’d be there, Una knew. Behind those gray walls, watching.
Una had to keep J.J. and Jill away from that house, but how could she explain the danger to Natalie when she didn’t understand it herself? She couldn’t tell Natalie how the woman in the library book, the one with Mrs. Smith’s face, had moved. She couldn’t tell her how Mrs. Stapleton had buttoned her lip when Una asked about her father’s research.
But Mrs. Smith was changing. After years of avoiding people, she’d bought a car from Don. She’d replied to Elaine’s letter. She’d hired the Scott children to do yard work.
Is she going to come out?
The thought turned Una’s mouth dry. The dust she’d dislodged from the nightstands stuck in her throat, so she went to the kitchen for a glass of water.
Passing by the dining room, she heard Natalie say, “I’m not going into the office today. I’m working on my mailbox bed and trimming the bushes out front. What’s Benjamin doing?”
