He raises his brows and places his hand on my belly. ‘This will all be a distant memory soon. I don’t think it’s too early to be looking for somewhere to live. At least see what’s on the market.’
I smile and kiss him. Looking for a new house is what I really want to do, but for now, I need to find that letter. ‘I forgot to bring the post up earlier. I’ll be back in five.’
I leave Ethan with Cora and hurry downstairs to what will soon be the huge kitchen-cum-family room. I rummage under the bills and behind the makeshift pallet table. Nothing. The letter has gone. There is a gap in the floorboard and I wonder if the letter slipped through it. There’s a crowbar on the other side of the room. I run over and grab it before coming back to wrench the floorboard up. After three attempts, it finally gives up and lifts under the strain. I rummage around. The letter has vanished and neither Morgan nor my husband has it. My fingers happen on something flexible and long. It’s a necklace.
A bang comes from upstairs and not the side we live in. I pop the necklace in my pocket. As my legs begin to tremble, I remain silent and listen. Whoever’s lurking up there is directly above me. The single light bulb that hangs is swinging under their weight, casting creepy shadows across the floor. My heart starts thrumming. My phone – I left it upstairs. I could run outside for help but whoever is up there might get to my family before I get to the end of the drive. I have to get to my family before the intruder does. I creep into the hallway and up the stairs one at a time as I continue to listen. All I can hear is the pounding of blood coursing through my body. I need to get to the apartment. We can call the police from there.
As I dart past the broken window, an icy gust catches me. A huge bang comes from Aunt Dorette’s old office. The intruder is in there and there’s no way out of that room. It’s too high to jump. I imagine they’re desperate and their desperation scares me. Instinctively, I place my hand on my stomach. I know Beanie is tiny and has a long way to go but I don’t want him or her hurt or shocked in any way, so I hurry to the apartment and fumble with my key. I can’t get it in the lock. My hands are shaking too much so I hammer on the door over and over again. The door to Aunt Dorette’s office slams. They’re coming. ‘Open the door,’ I shout. Twilight has fallen but I can still see my terrified reflection in the mirror on the other side of the landing.
As Ethan opens the door, I almost fall through it. I slam it and fall into his arms. ‘Call the police, there’s someone in the house.’
Twenty-One
Gemma
‘Why aren’t you calling the police?’
Ethan doesn’t look worried which unnerves me more. ‘It’s okay. I helped a trapped bird out earlier, and I’ve seen at least two rats. I’ll check it out.’ He grabs his torch off the side. ‘Don’t touch the upstairs electrics by the way. There was a bit of a leak in the bathroom next to your aunt’s old office, so I’ve turned everything off at the fuse board.’ The apartment is controlled on a separate fuse board. For that I’m grateful.
‘It wasn’t a bird,’ I say. ‘The light fitting moved downstairs when someone was standing above it. Call the police. We can’t go out there without backup. Someone is in our house.’
‘Gemma.’ His tone is firm. He’s put his coat on but he isn’t putting his torch down. ‘I’m just going to check it out. If there is someone there, I can handle them, okay?’
He’s strong and he knows he is which makes him feel invincible. He hasn’t thought this through. ‘What if they have a knife?’ His muscles won’t protect him from a huge blade or the element of surprise.
‘I’m not letting someone scare us in our own home.’ The veins in his neck and forehead are bulging. He’s angry but at least he seems to believe me when I say there is someone in the house, because if he mentions the words rat or bird again, I might start planning our divorce.
Morgan has come out of her cupboard. She’s standing against the doorframe biting her bottom lip. Without being asked, she protectively runs over to Cora, picks her up and hugs her.
‘I heard someone the other day, too, and I thought it might be a bird but it wasn’t, was it?’
‘I don’t know but can you please stay here with Cora?’ I’m not letting Ethan go alone. I snatch my phone off the worktop.
‘Mum, don’t. Let Dad go.’
Ethan opens the door. ‘Gemma, please just stay with the kids and lock the door.’
However much I hate to admit it, the kids and I have to stay in the apartment. I lock the door behind him. Please hurry back, I keep repeating in my head. My finger hovers over the number nine of my phone, ready to press it three times. Two minutes pass, three minutes, then we’re up to five minutes. I’m biting my nails again now.
‘Mum, I’m scared.’ Morgan wipes her wet eyes.
I can’t wait any longer. I call the police and they’re sending someone straight away. I can’t hear Ethan. What if he’s been attacked and is unable to reach his phone because he’s lying in a pool of his own blood?
‘Morgan, I have to go out there to see if Dad’s okay.’
She starts sobbing and I hate to leave her, but the police are on their way. I love Ethan and I couldn’t bear for anything to have happened to him. She nods, knowing that this is something I have to do.
‘As soon as I leave, lock the door behind me, okay?’ I grab a knife and Morgan gasps. ‘I won’t need it. It’s a precaution, that’s all.’ I try to look calm about things as I leave her in the apartment.
She locks the door behind me. All I have is the torch on my phone. I listen to see if I can hear Ethan but all I hear is the breeze whistling through the broken window. It’s pitch black now and the milky moonlight carries murky versions of the colours in the stained glass across the stairs and landing. I grip the knife by my side.
Every part of me trembles as I step across the long landing all the way to the other side. With every step I take, the floorboards creak which makes things worse because I can’t hear Ethan or the intruder. I keep going, past the mirror, then past all the doors along the hallway until I reach the open door to the balcony room.
Panic hits me like a bolt of lightning. I picture Ethan on the tiles below, suffering a similar fate to Aunt Dorette, so I run in. ‘Ethan.’ I flash the light across the walls, on the floor and then into the room. The balcony doors are wide open and the long white voiles flap in the breeze. My hand holding the knife quivers uncontrollably.
‘Gemma, stay where you are.’
‘Ethan.’
