He scratches his head. ‘She’s in her studio. She won’t come out and I’m worried about her. I’ve been calling her and she’s not answering. Her door’s locked.’ His eyes start to tear up. ‘I’m scared she’s hurt herself. The last thing she said was, “It’s over”.’
I step into Quinn’s house. However angry I am, I don’t want Quinn to be hurt. I glance back at Ethan. He’s done enough damage. ‘Quinn.’ I call her name as I hurry down the corridor towards her studio. Ethan is on my tail, and he seems to have sobered at speed as he overtakes me. He tries the handle and bangs on the door.
There’s no answer.
‘Do something. You have to help her.’ Harry’s hands are gripping the hair on the sides of his head.
Ethan steps back and bashes his body against the door. It won’t budge. He tries again and it creaks. One more time and the door breaks open. He falls through and almost stumbles to the floor. Quinn is lying in the middle of the dark room, lit up only by her computer screen. All around her are illustrations of her new character. An empty bottle of vodka has slipped from her hands. Ethan’s mouth is wide open, and Harry has started to cry. I hurry over and kneel beside Quinn. That’s when I spot the note with a pen on top of it. It’s written in familiar black ink capital letters.
IT’S OVER.
Fifty
Gemma
It was Quinn all this time. ‘Why?’ I ask her. She claims to love me but she puts me through this. She turned the neighbours against me, brought up the past and now… now, I need to do something. I take her wrist and I’m relieved to feel that she has a pulse and it’s a strong one. She snorts so I gesture for Ethan to help me get her into the recovery position.
Now on her side, she prises an eye open. ‘Gemma, I’m sorry.’ Her eyes dampen. She wipes her face, smearing eyeliner and lipstick everywhere. Diggerty licks her cheek, and she holds a hand up.
It’s not the right time to say anything. Ethan shouldn’t have charged in like this, regardless of what they did. I have my children to think of so I’m going to be the grown-up here. ‘Harry, maybe you could make your mum a coffee while we try to get her into a chair.’
He nods and is almost relieved to get out of the room. Ethan follows him, calling Diggerty out of the way as he leaves. It’s like my husband suddenly doesn’t know what to say after racing around here ready for a fight and being confronted by Quinn lying on the floor.
‘Why did you run away from me, Gem?’
‘Because I know, Quinn. I know everything and I was hurt. I’m still hurt.’
‘I’m going to make it right, Gemma.’
I don’t know how. I wonder if she even knows she’s the one who infected me. The doctor told me that quite often, people don’t know they have chlamydia. The letters, Jasmine’s bag and my fear over losing Beanie all run through my mind. ‘There’s no way you can ever make it right. You wrote all those letters. You slept with my husband, and I will never forgive you.’ I glance up at her computer and see a notebook labelled up with Klara on the spine. It’s just like the ones that my aunt used to write in. I stand and walk over to it. On turning the page, I can see my aunt’s name in it. This is what she stole on the day we were in my aunt’s office. The drawings are all around us. It hits me. She stole all my aunt’s work and claimed it as her own – the perfect motive to kill Aunt Dorette.
Her brows crease. She squints as she struggles to sit up. Eventually, she’s on her bottom with both hands straight behind her, pressing into the floor to stay upright. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Gemma.’
‘What’s this?’ I hold the notebook up.
Quinn looks into her lap. ‘Okay, not that bit. I did use your aunt’s character and we argued.’
‘You stole her work? She was going to tell, wasn’t she? So you pushed her.’
‘No… no, I didn’t. I would never do that. We argued and I left. Then she was dead. I didn’t hurt her.’
‘The letters?’ I pick up the letter from the floor and throw it at her. ‘The hamper, the worms, the article.’
She frowns. I never told her about the article, but Quinn is a good liar. She starts slurring an explanation out. ‘No. I saw the neighbours out there with letters and I didn’t have one. Ray showed me his and I took a look at Tessa’s. I knew it looked just like your aunt’s writing. It was even her notepaper and I had some of the same paper. I thought I’d get the blame because, guess what, the neighbours don’t like me either. I wrote letters to myself, that’s all. I left one sticking out of my post box so you’d find it. What I put in that letter wasn’t true. It was just malicious, like the one Tessa got. I didn’t think you’d believe it, but I needed you to believe I received letters too. If the neighbours thought I sent them, I feared they’d also wonder what else I was capable of.’
‘Why should I believe any of this?’ The whole story sounds ridiculous but then again, I remind myself, Quinn makes stuff up for a living. Looking around, I can see she lives in a fantasy world, surrounded by her pictures and characters, and she clearly has a drink problem.
‘You don’t have to, but it’s true. I never sent you or anyone else any letters.’ She hiccups.
‘But you slept with my husband.’
She shakes her head. ‘You know I only ever wanted you.’
‘Why did you do it, Quinn?’
‘I didn’t.’
Ethan enters with a coffee. ‘That’s the truth, Gemma. I have never slept with Quinn.’
