He walks back towards the door with me and speaks in a hushed tone until we’re standing in the hallway with the door firmly closed. ‘But you sent those letters, years ago.’
‘That has nothing to do with what’s going on here and you know it.’ I’m angry at him for even bringing that up.
‘We nearly crashed into that man’s car. I know you were angry that he shouted at us and it was his fault. Or are you trying to sabotage this project because you didn’t want to come here?’
I know why Ethan suspects me. We had bad neighbours move in once. It was years ago and I went through a real stress period because of them. Yes, I’m guilty of writing them two anonymous letters, telling them how much I hated them and that I wished they’d drop dead. Morgan was a baby and they’d woken her up at two in the morning, set fire to our bin and stank of weed all the time. Needless to say, they moved out after a while. I’m stressed. He knows I don’t want to be here. ‘And I am so ashamed of that. But I didn’t send those letters. I wouldn’t say anything that nasty.’ I can’t believe my husband suspects me.
He stares me out as if he’s waiting for me to confess. ‘I know you never wanted to come here. Just tell me if you’re trying to sabotage this project. I need the truth, Gemma.’ His Adam’s apple bobs under his stubble.
‘I didn’t do it.’ My tone is firm and unwavering. He has to know that I’m not lying. It’s not like I was a liar back then. I told him about the notes last time.
‘When I went out to pick dinner up last night…’
‘I didn’t leave the kids alone in the apartment to post those letters to the neighbours. I suggest we go out there and face them because I haven’t done anything. Besides, how do I know it wasn’t you? You left the building last night and it was dark. You didn’t seem enamoured with his terrible parking either.’ It’s immature I know but I can’t help turning this onto him to see how he feels about being accused.
He shakes his head and places his arms around me. ‘Sorry, okay. You’re right, we haven’t done anything. Besides, someone gave us a wormy hamper. Maybe it’s the same person who’s going around sending nasty letters.’
I check Cora and she’s still asleep. The sooner we face everyone on the lane the better. Everyone here will soon see that we only want to fit in and be good neighbours. ‘What do we do?’ I hug my husband and sink into his chest.
‘I’m angry with myself for losing my temper. First, I need to apologise and then maybe we should kill them with kindness, but I’m not letting the man who upset Morgan off the hook. If these people have anything to say, they need to come to us, not upset our child.’
I agree. The thought of Morgan being upset hurts. This needs to be dealt with now. We open the door and get blasted by a blanket of sleet. Maybe it’s not a good idea to go out, but Ethan is on a mission to put things right so I follow him towards the end of our long drive, onto the lane. There is no one out there now apart from the woman in the long white coat.
‘Gemma, I thought it was you when I looked up at your window last night.’
Did she leave me the hamper, leaving that article for me to find? Jasmine Slater. The name won’t leave my head now. ‘Quinn.’
Ethan looks at both of us in turn. ‘Have you already met?’
Quinn takes a step closer, bends down to peek at Cora, then she smiles. ‘We knew each other as kids. When Gemma came to stay with her aunt, we’d hang out together.’
Quinn holds a note in her hand. My eyes widen. She’s obviously here to confront us. ‘I received this.’
I sigh and fold my arms. ‘And let me guess, you think I sent it because we’re new around here? Someone sent us a veg hamper with a note and the hamper was full of worms. We’re victims too.’ I’m actually shaking. ‘What does your note say?’
She passes it to me, and Ethan glances at it over my shoulder. We both read it.
YOU REALLY THINK YOU LOOK GOOD IN THAT COAT AND THOSE RIDICULOUS BOOTS. YOUR BOTOX IS SO OBVIOUS AND YOU WEAR YOUR MAKE-UP LIKE A CLOWN. I HOPE YOU TRIP OVER AND BREAK AN ANKLE IN THOSE BOOTS. GO ON, I DARE YOU, KEEP WEARING THEM IN THE SNOW AND ICE, QUINNY.
She frowns. ‘No one calls me Quinny. The only person who’s ever called me Quinny is you, Gemma.’
I’m struggling to catch my breath. ‘It’s a coincidence. It has to be. It’s not as if that nickname was hard to come up with for me or the sender of this letter. I didn’t write it. I would never do this.’ I can’t suck in enough air and light-headedness is making me sway.
Ethan places an arm around me. ‘When do you think we’d have time to go around upsetting everyone like this? My wife hasn’t done anything, and I suggest you walk right back over to your house and leave us alone.’
His muscles tense in the arm he has around me. Across the road, a couple of neighbours have come back out and are milling around watching the confrontation, and I get this urge to turn around and run back up those stairs to the safety of the apartment, but Ethan keeps me firmly in place. He’s going to make me face this angry mob who, thankfully, haven’t got their actual pitchforks out yet.
Quinn nods and looks at me. ‘I know, I wasn’t making accusations. In fact, I was thinking that there was no way your family could do this. We were friends, good friends.’ She now stares at me. ‘I knew there was a bit of commotion going on which is why I brought my son in, but I had no idea what it was all about. When I came over, I wanted to see you, to say hi and then I saw the letter sticking out of my post box. I only read it as I was walking over.’
My heart starts to calm down. I have an ally in all this. Thank goodness because I could really do with a friend right now.
‘Do any of the neighbours have camera doorbells?’ Ethan asks.
He has his sensible head on, unlike me. I feel like pregnancy hormones are already ravaging me despite Beanie barely being a bean.
‘Ray does.’
‘Who’s Ray?’ Ethan asks.
