I stand straight, suddenly rigid from seeing them.
‘They remind me of that necklace you always wore, the one with the lips.’ She lets out a laugh and eats a sweet before swilling it down with a huge gulp of red wine. ‘Gosh they taste nicer with wine. Have one.’
She pushes the bag my way then licks a dark smear on her hand before rubbing it on her skirt. I nervously take one and then eat it.
‘Do you still have that necklace?’ She begins to play with the knot pendant on the end of her own necklace as she smiles warmly.
It’s as if she knows I found it. How could she know? I only found it by chance. Could Quinn have sneaked in and taken the letter when we were all upstairs? Did Ethan leave the front door on the catch before he came up? We’ve been through this. I said I didn’t leave it on the catch and he said he didn’t. I’m so confused right now. Maybe he’d popped out to see Quinn. There – I did it. I suspected Quinn of trying to seduce my husband or him of sneaking out to see her. The way she eats those cherry lips is captivating – seductive. Had Ethan fallen for her charms? Is he now fighting those feelings and taking everything out on Quinn instead? I shake my head and mutter the word ‘No.’
‘Sit, you look so uncomfortable. Kick your shoes off, relax.’
All I can hear is her voice over Kate Bush’s haunting wails. My senses are in a state of overwhelm and the blast from my past is making my heart bang. It’s like we’re back in the past. In my mind, we’re in the den, slightly drunk on cheap cider. The air is thick and smoky, and we’re eating cherry lips while listening to this very song. I want to run out of here but my legs have turned to stone.
‘Okay, don’t sit. Let’s dance.’ Holding what’s left of the cigarette, Quinn starts waving her arms around. I spot her phone on the coffee table and it’s lit up and open in an app. I used to use it when we lived in Bristol. Welcome to the Neighbourhood. I’m sure I catch sight of Jasmine’s name before the light on her phone goes off and I can’t read what she was looking at last.
She grabs my hand, drops the cigarette and stamps on it, not caring one bit about her beautiful floor. Her rebelliousness always gave me a thrill and I feel a shiver that I’m trying to dismiss. She slowly takes my bag and puts it on the table, now she’s spinning me around, laughing. I keep seeing the picture of the dragon, then the cherry lips, the patio doors then I focus back on Quinn’s face as she goes faster. The background is now a blur. Again, I think of the letters, the recording device, her dog in our house, the police, my children and I’m scared I’m going to lose everything, but for a snapshot in time, Quinn’s childlike love of the past is sweeping me up and I want to smile too before the reality of the situation kicks in again. I forgot what fun Quinn was to be around.
The track ends. She instructs the smart speaker to stop and the room is as silent as snowfall at five a.m. on Christmas morning. It’s just me and her. No music, no chatter of other people, not even the distant sound of a barking dog.
Quinn’s hair has fallen from its grip. It hangs wildly over her shoulders, and it’s as if the room has vanished and all I can see is her. I’ve fought the past but it’s upon me now. I can feel it crushing my chest. We both know what happened back then, what started everything off the day Jasmine disappeared, and it’s as if we’re both thinking about it at the same time.
‘Are you happy, Gem, with Ethan? Are you really happy?’
What is she going to tell me? I wait for her to confess to whatever’s going on with Ethan. It has to be that. My heart races and I can’t seem to calm it down. Her perfume – jasmine – it’s intoxicating. Jasmine – that name again. Then I realise I know that exact look she has on her face.
Her hand cups my chin and her lips brush softly against mine. I remember back then how her lip gloss smudged onto my lips and how her sweet perfume tickled my senses.
No, no, no. What’s happening here? I need to get out. It was a mistake back then and what she just did, that was a mistake too. I wrench my hands from Quinn’s, grab my bag and run out of her studio as fast as I can, staggering like I’m drunk.
‘Gem, Gemma,’ she keeps calling.
I’m dizzy from all the spinning but I don’t stop until I’m in the middle of the lane gasping for breath and wondering how the hell that happened, but I’m not alone. Ruby, my neighbour, stands on the path holding a piece of paper.
‘Morgan,’ I shout but I can’t see my daughter or Harry. I look up, the world is still spinning and I’m sure Ray is up there at his window looking down on me. I can’t see him but I feel his presence or it might even be my imagination.
Something blue catches my eye and my heart races as I realise what it is. It’s Morgan’s scarf lying on the path that leads to the woods.
Thirty-Two
Morgan
We ran out of streetlights ages ago. The silence is eerie but the crunch of our boots in the snow grounds me, reminding me that we’re not in some sort of shared fever dream where monsters are about to jump out from behind the trees. The sound of a car close by is soon gone. There must be a road behind all these trees.
Harry had led the way with his heavy-duty torch and we finally made it to the den. We’ve managed to set up our investigation room in this three-roomed wooden shack. He’s inside, still working on the board, while I stand outside, once again checking that James or his friends aren’t around. I flinch as I hear a cracking twig at feet level. I crunch towards the shrubs in darkness. ‘Hello.’ Nothing. ‘James, go home or I might just have to push you again.’ I swallow nervously. I don’t think I could hurt James if he saw me coming. My heart is chugging as I take a few more steps towards the shrubs and part a few branches. A little moonlight dapples through the trees. There’s no one there. It must have been an animal. I run back into the den to Harry and Diggerty, through the first two rooms and crouch to get through the hole to the third wooden room. ‘When did anyone last come here?’ I wonder if other kids use the shack. If they do, they might be put out that we were here. I reach for my scarf and realise it’s gone. Maybe I left it at Harry’s. I can’t even remember if I put it on when we left his house. Actually, I did. I was playing with it when Quinn came in. I was so nervous that she knew I’d been through her bag, I’d walked halfway here in a daze.
He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. It’s too far away from town for people to randomly turn up and there aren’t many people around here with kids. James prefers hanging out at the arcade in Whitby. I know that much because I avoid it now.’
Maybe it was just an animal. I hate that Harry has to avoid places he loves because of James. ‘We should go there soon. You can show me the pier and the arcade or we could do the Dracula experience.’
He raises his brows. ‘Are you asking me out on a date, Detective Morgan?’ It’s like he read my mind. Not with the date, with the detective title.
I scrunch my nose and my cheeks start to burn. ‘No, Detective Harry. I was just asking you to hang out, as in friends.’
He bursts out laughing and snorts at the same time. ‘I know, I was kidding.’
I think I feel insulted now. Wouldn’t he want to go on a date with me? I know my hair is a disaster with the orange streaks. I look around and shiver, telling my brain to drop the fear that’s swelling within me. I’m scared, in the middle of the woods and the only protection we have is a dog who does nothing but dry pee up everything in sight. I steal a quick look at Harry. I find his blinking cute and I think that makes me weird. ‘So, I guess that’s a no to hanging out, then.’
‘No, it’s not a no. It’s just…’
