It doesn’t take long for the wife, Anna, to find out. She scares Carli a few times, including locking her in the basement, before leading her husband into the forest during a storm and pushing him over the edge of a cliff.
She sets up Carli for the murder. After a lengthy trial, Carli gets off and starts a new life with her new boyfriend. They move to Canada to escape their past, and Carli changes her name.
She thinks she’s safe, but one day, Anna turns up and kills her.
The novel ends with Anna living with a new man, advertising for a new student to help with the farm over the summer holidays.
The ad reads:
Help needed. Rural homestead.
When I get to the ad, I instinctively throw the Kindle onto the ground, as if it were cursed.
It is the exact wording from the ad I responded to on campus.
I grasp frantically for my torch, then swing it around the room like an insane person, as if Grace were waiting in the corner, knife in hand.
It’s just her idea of a joke, I tell myself. She thinks life is art. I’m like a character in one of her novels.
And what happens to those characters?a voice inside asks.
I close my eyes, leaving the torch on, and tell that voice inside to shut the hell up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The next day, I’m woken by someone banging on the door. I grasp for my watch and see that it’s gone ten. Great. Because of that damn book, I’ve overslept again.
Before I can get out of bed, the door swings open. Grace stands in a long black dress, with large sunglasses perched on her forehead.
“You’re not at work yet.”
“I slept late,” I croak. I’ve been awake for sixty seconds and am already on the back foot.
“I can see that. But that’s not why I’m here.”
She stands by the door, scanning the room. The condom is long gone, but I still feel strangely guilty.
“There’s been a change of plans,” she says. She peers at me like a bird of prey surveying a mouse in the field. “We’ve had to fire the cleaners after Bradley’s unfortunate setback at work. That means we need someone to take over.”
I turn away and fill the kettle. “I’m not a cleaner,” I say, surprised at my courage. “I’m supposed to be working in the garden.”
“You’re whatever we say you are, my dear. Free room and board, along with a stipend, in return for helping out. And thisis the help we need.” Before I can argue any further, she drops a piece of paper on the card table. “That’s a list of tasks, in order of priority. You can get ready first, but you’ll need to work into the afternoon to catch up on your hours. And don’t be late tomorrow. Ordinarily, I don’t want you in the house after lunchtime, but today I’ll make an exception.”
As she turns and leaves, I extend the middle finger of my right hand, though I keep it at my side. I’m glad I do, because at the steps, she glances back at me. The ironic smile is gone, and I feel a chill run through me. There’s that magic trick again. I feel like one of her characters, with all my thoughts and emotions dictated by her hand.
Screw that, I think, as I make breakfast. And screw her. Soon, Bradley will announce the divorce, and she’ll be gone for good. I smile at the thought, then wonder if this makes me a bad person.
But no—she’s the one who cheated. She’s ruined their marriage. She's brought it on herself.
I drink my coffee in three gulps, then set off. As I walk to the house in the sunshine, I feel a sense of relief. If Grace knew the truth, she would have confronted Bradley last night, and then kicked me out. I just need to stay out of her way for a few days and give Bradley the space to fulfill his promise.
I use this thought to keep my mood light as I vacuum the lower floor of the house, which takes me the rest of the morning. The old cleaners had been cutting corners, and I find thick layers of dust under every piece of furniture. At lunchtime, I move into the kitchen, where a bucket and mop rest against the wall. This is faster work, but I try not to rush it, because I’m not looking forward to the next chore on the list.
The bathroom.
But time passes, and the inevitable takes place. I’m soon elbow-deep in the toilet bowl, scrubbing away. I’m taken back tothose years I spent looking after Mom, when every day seemed filled with chores like this.
Just when I’m about to finish, I hear Grace behind me.
