by Anni Taylor
“Goodness, a fifteen-year-old boy. Did he and Stella—?”
“Have sex? Yes, unfortunately. Once we found that out, I thought we should go to the police. But neither Camille nor Stella wanted to. I couldn’t convince Camille, and well, Stella is her daughter. She thought that it was enough that Eddie had ended the relationship and told us where to find Stella.”
“Does Stella still see him?”
“I don’t think so. She doesn’t come back to Greenmire very often.”
“Okay,” I said, “if the stuff about love being respect is all coming from Stella, where did she get that kind of talk from? She was just a young kid herself. From Eddie, maybe?”
“Maybe. Certainly not from her mother or grandparents.” Rory threaded his long fingers together and rested his elbows on the table. He observed me with a worried expression. When he spoke, he kept his voice to just above a whisper. “Did you manage to find out any more—about the painting you said you saw?”
“Nothing more.”
“Hmmm. Last time, you weren’t willing to tell me whose house you saw this painting at. But it might help if you do.”
“It’s at Alban’s house. In his office,” I said in a low tone, then shook my head. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”
He pressed his lips together tightly. “Don’t feel bad. Thank you for telling me. It is interesting that he has that on his wall.”
Two young women walked past the coffee shop window. Aubrey and her friend Bridget.
Noticing me, Aubrey tapped hello on the plate glass. I smiled and waved, but hoped she’d keep on walking. No such luck. I heard the bell on the entrance door tinkle and then Aubrey and Bridget were standing at our table.
“Mind if we park our bums here a while?” Aubrey wriggled in beside me without waiting for a reply. “We were going to grab a coffee before heading to see a friend’s new baby. Over at the hospital. I don’t like the coffee there.”
Bridget nudged Rory over and sat beside him. “Miss fussy boots dragged me all over Paris once just to find a specific coffee shop.” She rolled her eyes at Aubrey.
Aubrey laughed. “That coffee shop was nowhere near where I remembered it being. I’m such a doofus with directions.” She eyed the schoolbooks on the table. “What’s all this?”
Rory snatched up the books and stuffed them back into his satchel. “Just some of the kids’ work. Isla here was asking about the local school. I actually need to get moving. Nice to see you again, Aubrey.” He nodded at me. “Isla, I hope I’ve been helpful.”
“Yes,” I said. “Very helpful, thank you.”
Watching him leave, Bridget pulled her mouth down. “Hope I don’t smell or something. He left in a right hurry.” She sniffed her underarms.
I laughed and then told a lie. “He was actually about to leave before you girls walked in.”
Aubrey and Bridget accepted that without question, ordering themselves coffee and cake.
“How are things going with Simon?” I asked Aubrey, half-wincing, as I’d already guessed things weren’t going well.
She scowled. “Och, he’s out on his ear. Good riddance to him.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I told her.
“Shame,” Bridget mused. “He was damned hot.”
“He was and all.” Aubrey looked sad for a moment, then she turned to me. “Hey, did you know that Trent has been asking to see you? I did tell Jessica, but she might have forgotten to pass it on.”
“Trent? The guy who overdosed in the forest?” I answered, shocked. “I don’t even know him.”
“I think he wants to apologise,” Aubrey said. “Peyton told me that Trent made a pass at you, is that right?”
I nodded. “Yes. But please tell him that I’m okay about it. He doesn’t need to apologise in person.”
Aubrey wrinkled her nose. “He’s insisting on seeing you. Says there’s something important he needs to tell you.”
“Ooh,” Bridget exclaimed. “He’s the one who supposedly strung the scarecrow up in the tree, right? I wish I’d seen it. Frrreaky. Maybe he wants to admit to it.”
“He told the police he didn’t do it, right?” I asked.
Bridget nodded, a gleam of interest in her eyes. “Maybe he’d had a change of heart. But if he didn’t do it, who did? We should get everyone together who was there that night and play Murder in the Dark. And find out who did string up the poor scarecrow. Sorry, tattie bogle, I should say. I just can’t get used to calling them that like you lot do ‘round here.”
“Ignore her,” Aubrey told me. “She watches too much CSI.” She shot a derisive glance at her friend. “You’re as bad as Diarmid. It’s not a murder investigation, you right twit. The victim is a bit of wood and straw.”
Bridget shrugged. “Most exciting thing that’s happened in Greenmire for yonks.”
“Trent sounded awfully sincere,” Aubrey told me. “If you don’t see him, I’m afraid you might not get another chance. Peyton banned him from our house forever. We’re heading over to the hospital in a minute. I can drop you there and then take you home again.”
“Thank you, but I—” I started.
“Oh, you can’t say no,” Bridget said. “How are we ever going to know if he’s the scarecrow culprit or not? Seems there’s something he’s only willing to tell you and I bet that’s it.”
I had to admit to myself that I was curious. It would be reassuring to know for sure that he was the culprit, so that I didn’t have to wonder anymore.
I glanced out the window. “But I have a bike outside.”
“Then we’ll drop you back in town after the hospital.” Aubrey waggled her eyebrows at me in a mock stern expression, as if I were a stubborn child.
“Okay.” I exhaled, trying to gather myself. “I’ll come along with you.”
24
ELODIE
Greenmire, Scottish Highlands, December 2015
ELODIE HAD VISITORS. Nurse Lucy told her so.
Above the steady beeps and shuffling noises of the hospital, she heard Aubrey’s voice.
“Everyone knows I hate hospitals,” Aubrey told her. “Takes a really special person to get me to one. So…here I am, Lo.” She was the only one who’d ever called her Lo. She was sometimes called Elly or Lodie but never Lo.
Aubrey sighed. “I flew back from London just to see you, you little punk. So, you’d better make my trip worthwhile and wake up. I bought a sparkly dress when I was there and it’s so pretty you have to see it. And if you like, I’ll have one made up for you. A pint-sized one. Because you’re a pint-sized squirt. And we can wear them together and have a karaoke singing contest. And—”
“Ach, stop flapping your gums,” Diarmid broke in. “You’re going to burn poor wee Elodie’s ears before long. It’s not like she can get up and run away and get some peace from ya.”
But Aubrey didn’t stop flapping her gums. She talked on and on and on. She was always like this. She’d take a thousand words to tell you what would take other people just ten. Elodie loved Aubrey but thought that she often made her ears tired.
Right now, Elodie felt like Grandma McGregor, demanding that her grandchildren shush because she was vexed. Elodie and her family would visit Grandma in her little house where she lived all alone—the house with all the windowsills filled with tiny statues of cats and dogs. She didn’t have any real pets. Sooner or later, the noise of all the children would start to annoy her.
Just like Grandma, Elodie was vexed. She imagined the nurses putting up a sign on the wall over her bed that said, Shush, Elodie is vexed.
Grandma would like that.
Elodie giggled inside.
Had Grandma come to see her in the hospital yet? She didn’t know. Sometimes she entered long, twisting black tunnels and she could barely hear anyone. Maybe Grandma came when she was in a tunnel. She desperately wanted to hear Grandma’s voice.
Other people entered the room. Aubrey and Diarmid’s parents and older brother, Peyton. El
odie was suddenly anxious and wanted them all to go away. She heard moaning and she only realised that it was herself when Nurse Lucy stated, Elodie’s had enough for today.
At least Nurse Lucy knew. She couldn’t speak for herself, but Nurse Lucy said the words she often wanted to say.
Diarmid sounded smug when he said, “See, Aubrey? You fair made her sick with all your blathering. Takes a blabbermouth like you to pull someone out of a coma enough to start groaning.”
“Not at all,” said Nurse Lucy, clucking her tongue. “It’s a common myth that people in comas are always silent. They’re usually not. They go in and out of dreamlike states, and they can almost completely wake and become quite confused before heading back into a deep coma.”
Her voice seemed faint and loud at the same time, like it was rushing in and out of the room in waves.
“Thank you for explaining, nurse,” said Aubrey. She said something to Diarmid, but Elodie couldn’t catch it. The wind inside her head had caught Aubrey’s words and tossed them skyward.
Elodie felt terrible and sick and she wanted to vomit.
She actually must have vomited because Nurse Lucy told her that she was cleaning her up and she could feel the pressure of her hand on her face.
“There you are, sweetheart, all beautiful again,” she said. “Just relax. You’re safe. You’re with people who care about you.”
Despite her sore stomach, she liked it that she could feel hands on her face and that she’d heard her own voice, even if it was just herself groaning.
But the next minute, a strange feeling took her, like she was pulling away from the room. She held fast to Nurse Lucy’s voice. It was the only thing anchoring her.
“You’re doing well, sweetheart,” Nurse Lucy said. “I think we’ll let you get some sleep. Your mum and dad are close by. They’ll be back to watch you sleep any minute now. But I’ll still be here. You won’t be alone.”
The room went still.
No voices or sounds.
Elodie was still in another place.
She could see Aubrey and Diarmid in her mind. It was the morning of her sixth birthday. Mum told her to go play so that she could get the house ready for her birthday party. She played in the field until she got bored. Then she decided to go to the Chandlish house and play with their deerhounds. It was a long way, but it was okay. Mum let her go to the houses of the Chandlishes and Keenans all the time, so that Elodie could get out of her hair.
Sneaking back to the house, she snatched her new straw hat from her bedroom. She wanted to wear it over to the Chandlish house. If Aubrey saw it, she’d want one, too.
Tying the hat’s red ribbon under her chin, she sped from the house and along the edge of the forest, all the way to the tattie bogles on the hill.
She clamped a hand tightly over her eyes as she passed the tattie bogles. She didn’t used to be frightened of them until Diarmid told her scary stories about them.
When she reached the Chandlish house, the dogs weren’t in their enclosure.
Diarmid was sitting on the front steps of his house when she got there, his head in his hands. He looked like he was sick.
“Lookie here, it’s Red Riding Hood,” he laughed. “And I’m Grandma. Where’s my scones and jam?” His words slurred, like they were sliding from his tongue.
“Where’s Mitzy and Boomer?” she asked.
“Aubrey took ’em out for a walk. Now, where’s my scones?”
“It’s my birthday, Diarmid. You have to be nice to me.”
“I don’t have to be nice when I’m drunk.” He smiled, showing all his teeth. “You know what happens to little girls in the woods?”
She shook her head.
He threw back his head and made a growling sound. “The tattie bogles. They’re right mad you got away from them. They’re coming now and they’ll eat you if they find you!”
He jumped up, growling again and she squealed.
“Aubrey! Aubrey! Save me!” Elodie giggled, running up the stairs and into the house. She was scared of the tattie bogles, but this was just Diarmid, and Diarmid wasn’t scary.
She ran and hid, but Diarmid found her straight away.
There was nowhere to go now except the basement. She ran down the stairs and crawled under the pool table.
“Rah! The tattie bogle’s coming!” Diarmid jumped the last few steps and landed hard on the floor, crashing into a cabinet filled with trophies. The trophies swayed and clattered.
Aubrey came charging down the stairs.
Elodie clapped her hands over her mouth, suppressing a giggle.
She knew Aubrey would join in the fun, now.
Except, she didn’t.
Aubrey forced Diarmid back against the wall, both elbows and arms hard against his chest. “What. Did. You. Say?”
“I said the tattie bogle’s coming,” he screamed in her face. “It’s coming and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She slapped him across his cheek and temple.
He stared at her like he hated her. “Up the stairs, Auuuubreyyy. Quick, he’s coming. Thump, thump, thump on the stairs. Watch you don’t trip or he’ll get you. You remember, don’t you? You remember the straw under your pillow? That’s how you knew the tattie bogle had been in your room.”
She breathed furiously through her nose, nostrils flaring. “Don’t….”
His cheek grew red where she’d slapped him. “It’s coming for you, Aubrey.”
“What’s wrong with you? What in the hell is wrong with you? Why have you always been like this?”
Elodie curled herself into a ball. She knew the story well, because Diarmid had told her. The tattie bogles on the hill weren’t like other scarecrows. These ones could tear away from their moorings, and plod towards your house. Then they’d climb in through a window and up to your bedroom. You knew if the tattie bogle had tried to come for you if there was straw under your pillow in the morning.
It was just a story, but Diarmid had told her it as if it were real.
With a final shove, Aubrey backed away from her brother. “Where’s Elodie? I heard you chasing her. Probably scared her out of her wits, you have.”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “Thought she went this way, but, yeah, looks like she doubled back.”
“Well, someone better go find her.” Aubrey stormed away. The room felt like it had kept some of her rage, even after she’d gone.
Diarmid stood there for a moment, as though he didn’t know what to do. Then started laughing. He reached towards some of Aubrey’s show jumping trophies and made them tip from the shelf. Seeming satisfied, he left then.
Elodie wasn’t sure if she’d made Diarmid do something wrong. She’d never seen Aubrey so angry before.
Two sets of legs came down the stairs. At first, she thought it was Diarmid and Aubrey and that they’d realised she was in the basement, after all. She crawled out, but it wasn’t Diarmid or Aubrey.
Peyton and Hamish stood at the foot of the stairs, peering down at her in surprise.
“What were you doing under there, kid?” Peyton rubbed his chin and looked vaguely annoyed.
She sniffled. “Just playing a game.”
“Were you crying?” he said.
“No.” She wiped her eyes to show that she wasn’t, but her eyelashes wet the backs of her hands.
Peyton softened his voice. “Maybe you should go home, huh? We’re going to play a game of pool and you’ll get a big headache if you stay under there.” He gave her an exasperated grin. “Did I hear my brother yelling some blasted thing about tattie bogles?”
She nodded.
“Did he scare you? C’mon kid, we’ll walk you back to your place.” Peyton glanced at Hamish. Hamish sighed loudly.
Diarmid was passed out on the sofa when they walked through the living room.
Aubrey came running in. “There you are, Lo.”
“She’s all right,” said Peyton. “Our numpty of a brother scared her. We’re walking her ho
me.”
Aubrey cast a glance at Diarmid then nodded. “Good. I’ll be glad when he’s back at college.”
Outside, the dogs were back in their enclosure, sticking their noses through the gate. Elodie went to pat them, then ran behind Peyton and Hamish as they headed for the forest.
Leaves blew ahead of her new party shoes. She wanted to chase the leaves, but she held back, daunted by these tall men walking beside her. But they barely seemed to notice her, chatting to each other about things she didn’t understand.
When the tattie bogles came into view, she turned her head away and covered her face, as she always did. She knocked into Peyton by accident.
“Hey now,” Peyton said, “don’t you go being scared of those old things.” He took her by the hand, right up to the tattie bogles. Grabbing the nearest one, he shook it. “See? They can’t come after you. They’re fixed into the ground. They’ve got no proper hands, no teeth. They can’t eat you. Just sticks and wood and hay is all they are.”
Hamish jumped in front of a tattie bogle and pretended that it pulled him towards it. “Help! It’s got me!” He held the arms of the tattie bogle, jerking about as if he really couldn’t get away.
“Och, we’re surrounded by numpties, Elodie.” Peyton sighed. “I think the tattie bogles have got more brains than Hamish and Diarmid put together.”
That made a giggle rise inside Elodie’s throat, but she didn’t let it out.
Hamish dropped the tattie bogle’s arms. “Ah, don’t mind me. Just having a wee bit of fun.”
“She’s just a kid, Ham. Save it for Diarmid. He’d appreciate that kind of carry on.”
Elodie didn’t understand grownups at all today. Not even Aubrey. Aubrey had recently turned eighteen, so that made her a grownup, too.