I stare at the mess he’s made. The dresser has been dragged to the other side of the room and half of the dishes and cups on it have toppled off and lie smashed on the floorboards. His sledgehammer stands upright next to the coffee table. Dad is right. Through the ragged wall that he’s partially knocked down, there’s a gap. The walls around it are covered in a busy patterned rose print paper that is giving me a bad head to look at, and it’s full of dust bunnies and cobwebs.
Cora reaches out for Dad. He takes her and cuddles her against his dusty sweatshirt. She lets out a dainty sneeze. He exhales and a plume of white coils above him. I shiver at how cold it is down here.
‘It’s not looking good around here, Morgan. There are things you don’t know.’ He glances through the hole in the wall.
What has he been hiding? I think back to the note I read, the one that Mum stole from Quinn’s post box. Did my dad do something bad when he came up here alone to fix the apartment up?
He continues speaking. ‘It looks like we both have our secrets and they’re all coming out. I don’t know what to do.’ He places one arm around Cora and a hand over his ear and lets out a bit of a sob that he quickly controls.
‘I’ve ruined everything, Morgan, and I don’t know what to do. Our lives are about to come crashing down.’
Forty-Four
Gemma
I stand in the cold waiting for Quinn. I can’t believe that it took until after three this afternoon to get my discharge papers. After two nights in hospital and most of today, I’m finally getting out of here. I called Morgan and she misses me. She also sounded worried but she kept telling me that everything was okay. I miss my children so much it hurts. Although I was only away from them for two nights, it felt like forever. Ethan wanted to visit yesterday but I told him I didn’t want to see him. Everything is still too raw.
I place my hand over my stomach. ‘We’re going to be okay, Beanie,’ I whisper under my breath. I’ve been lucky, no thanks to Ethan.
All I want to do is cry. I’m wearing my crusty jeans that I bled in. I feel dirty and I want to be home in my own bed. Home – where is home? The home I know and love is gone forever. I swallow the huge lump in my throat.
A picture enters my mind, one of the neighbours all watching as I pull up later. I can’t do this anymore. We’ve lost money but I don’t care if we leave with nothing as long as we can escape Clover Lane. My children are worth more than money, and we’re not safe at Clover House, which is why, as soon as I’m back, I’ll be researching short-term rentals until I can find us something back in Bristol.
I check my phone. There’s a message from Quinn telling me she’s on her way. I also have twelve messages and two missed calls from Ethan, which I continue to ignore.
I should have booked a taxi. Calling Quinn was a bad idea given the mood I’m in. I go to message her, to tell her to turn around, but it’s too late because she’s already pulling up.
I open the passenger door, get in and put my seatbelt on. I keep my bag on my lap, ready to jump out of her car and run into the house as soon as we’re back.
‘Gemma, you look awful. What happened?’
I can’t speak. My bottom lip trembles and if I say anything, I might cry or say something I’ll regret. We used to be close but I can’t even look in her direction. I force myself to turn towards her. She’s wearing sunglasses in the middle of winter and there’s not even a hint of winter sun in the sky. I take a deep breath. ‘I could ask you the same thing.’
‘Huh?’ She starts driving away from the hospital and joins the slow-moving Friday afternoon traffic.
I’m trying to fathom what she’s thinking but she’s not giving anything away. ‘The sunglasses?’ We’ll start with an easy one, Quinn.
‘Oh, those. I polished off a bit too much wine last night.’
Last night, the night before also. Quinn has a problem.
‘My head kills.’ She pauses. ‘About what I did…’
I’m on high alert now. Is she going to confess?
‘That kiss. I’m sorry. It’s just…’
Okay, that’s not what I was expecting but I guess we need to unpack that too. It’s a start. ‘Just what?’
‘I can’t say.’ She shakes her head rapidly and pulls a face. ‘My head is banging. God, I feel sick.’
‘We have to talk about it.’
‘You’re not going to want to hear it. You’re happy, Gemma. You have a family and I… I’m the same confused mess I’ve always been, though there’s one thing I’m not confused about.’
‘Go on.’
‘It’s always been you, Gemma. I know you don’t feel the same, but that day in the woods, all those years ago when we kissed. I never stopped thinking about you and when you didn’t write to me, I thought maybe I crossed a line and you hated me, but you kissed me too. I wasn’t the only one who felt it, was I?’
