‘I know you will but what kind of friend would I be if I left you like this? Harry wanted to know if Morgan was allowed to go over for a while. He’s ordered a pizza and wondered if she wanted to share it with him over a game of pool. I’m happy to stay here. In fact, I’ll tell him to order another pizza for us. I know you’re probably not in the mood to eat, but like me, you’re a mum and that little one is going to need you to be on top form tomorrow regardless of what’s happening.’
I almost want to cross my fingers.
Cora blows out a tiny spit bubble from the corner of her mouth as she starts to fall back to sleep. Mum nods. ‘Okay.’
It’s not like we don’t care about Dad, we do. There is nothing we can do for him. Actually, there is. I can find out who wrote those letters and prove that he didn’t hurt the red-nosed man, which is why I need to see Harry.
‘I won’t be long. Promise.’
* * *
As I close the apartment door, I press the light switch for the landing but the light doesn’t come on. It’s not too dark. The large window casts a bit of snowy light that glints off the edges of the steps and the heavy wooden banister.
I’m sure we closed the main door but it’s banging as the breeze picks up. Taking each step slowly, I reach the bottom. It’s darker now. I crash into a pile of kitchen bowls that were stacked up. I’m sure they’d been pushed against the wall before.
‘Hello?’
No one answers. My heart pounds like I’m about to die. Can people die of fear at my age? Keeping still, I listen out for a sign that someone is in the main house. Maybe Harry is playing some sort of joke on me and he’s about to jump out with a torch pointing towards his face. ‘Harry?’
I wish I had my phone on me. I know I don’t have any data or minutes but at least I could have used it as a torch, or maybe I could have used Harry’s Wi-Fi. I bend over and pick up the broken item as I dart as fast as I can towards the banging door and step out onto the path. I pull it closed, then I keep running until I reach Harry’s front door. I glance back and all I see is an old house in darkness, except for the apartment. The police tape swishes in the breeze from the balcony. A strong gust billows across my face and one of the balcony bricks falls. It crashes to the path below and I jump. All I can see in my mind’s eye is the old great-aunt I never knew falling to the ground just like that brick, and I gasp. My heart thuds like never before and I almost fall over when the door is opened and Diggerty jumps up at me.
Harry stands in the doorway eating a large slice of pizza. ‘You coming in or what?’
I guess I am. It’s time to start investigating and find out who sent those letters.
Twelve
Gemma
‘Do you want a fresh brew?’ Quinn asks as she points to the cold cup of tea she made for me after Morgan left to go to her house. I regret panicking Morgan earlier when we ran up the stairs to see if Cora was okay, but Morgan understands that my anxiety is at an all-time high. The stench of cold leftover pizza is making me queasy. I check the time. Ethan has been gone for hours. Cora lets out little breaths as she sleeps on the couch, oblivious to what’s going on.
‘Gemma?’
‘Sorry, Quinn. I’m okay. If I drink any more tea, I might as well just sit on the toilet and not move.’
She laughs at my little attempt at humour. ‘Do you remember the time we told my mum and your Aunt Dorette that we were going to the lake for a picnic with some of the other kids and we caught the bus to Whitby instead?’ She sips her tea.
I nod and smile. ‘I think we were about twelve.’
‘And we got the wrong bus to Whitby and had to wait an hour for the next bus and when we got there it started raining.’
‘It was always raining.’ I laugh.
‘But we didn’t let that stop us having fun. We walked all the way up those million steps to reach the Whitby Abbey ruins. We did all that, ate our cheese sandwiches and then came home.’
On that day, the wind had been flapping my coat while I looked down in awe at the view of Whitby town and the River Esk. ‘You tried to scare me by telling me Dracula stories.’
‘And then you panicked, wondering if we’d be able to get back home. But we did. Those were fun times.’
I recall panicking because I hadn’t been sure about going. Quinn wanted to go and she had convinced me to lie to Aunt Dorette. When we returned Jasmine was sitting on the kerb outside Quinn’s, poking a stick into a drain slat, her blue raincoat protecting her from the elements. ‘We should have taken Jasmine with us that day,’ I say, daring to mention her name. I wonder if Quinn could have sent the hamper and left that article hidden under the veggies, but she doesn’t react to me mentioning Jasmine. I go to speak again but she interrupts.
‘You’re right. We should have been better friends. When this whole sorry mess is over, I think we should go out, have a good time and a proper catch-up. I can’t believe you’re a mum of two.’
I’m not sure if she’s just pivoted from the subject of Jasmine but my heartrate is speeding up. I don’t want to delve into what happened back then in the woods. I need to think about Beanie.
‘And I can’t believe you have Harry,’ I reply.
Quinn places an arm around me. She feels like quality wool and her blonde hair smells like fresh cut flowers.
