After brushing away the snow from the wooden slats, I sit down for a few moments on Kyla’s bench, shivering. It’s isolated here – unnaturally quiet. Not a single bird singing. No animals rustling in the woods behind me. I look at the set of footprints stretching towards the farmhouse. Whoever made them possibly sat here, before walking back. Was it Michael Collis? Was Finn wrong, and he wasn’t abroad? Had he left the footprints leading to Rosamund and Elise’s cottage too? Had he put on a mask and looked in at Elise?
My curiosity about the man deepens. It’s about a five-minute walk to his house, but my toes and fingers are numb, and the clouds are darkening. I sit for a few more minutes, debating if I can manage the walk, when snow starts to fall. I need to get back.
I rise and look up at the sky, letting the flakes land on my face, icy cold, before turning to look up Vine Hill. I squint, trying to make out who is at the top looking down at me. I see a flash of a pink jacket. ‘Elise?’ But she moves away before I can raise my hand in a wave.
It’s almost four o’clock. I’ll come back tomorrow. I have to. Something draws me to the farmhouse – to Michael Collis.
Chapter 18
A Year Ago
Amelia
Rosamund, in her early forties, muscularly slim, her wavy blonde hair shining in the sunlight, climbed from the driver’s seat of a white Mercedes, looking stunning in an orange coat with large lapels.
A teenage girl climbed from the back seat, and a man in his mid-thirties in a red waistcoat and black jacket, got out of the passenger seat and stretched his arms above his head, yawning.
‘Caroline, darling, how are you?’ Rosamund called, waving at Amelia and her mum heading towards her.
Amelia stared at the elegant woman approaching. She’d never met her, but remembered from when she was a teenager how happy her mum had been working in Rosamund’s flower shop, near the River Tweed. Having done a flower arranging evening course at the local college, and finding she had a natural talent, her mum had been thrilled when she got the job. Amelia had loved how happy her mum had been while she worked there, bringing flowers home each day, always smiling. The house always smelt beautiful, looked bright.
But then Rosamund sold the shop – never said where she was going. It had broken the bond between them. Her mum had cried that day, saying she hadn’t only lost a job – she’d lost her best friend too.
‘Your mum has told me so much about you, Amelia,’ Rosamund said, blue eyes shining, after the two older women had embraced. She really was a mesmerising woman. ‘We should play a game of tennis together.’
Amelia raised her eyebrows. She had never been good at tennis. Never been sporty.
‘Ah, no, you’re thinking of Lark,’ her mum chipped in. ‘Lark is my sporty one. Well she was, until recently.’ She looked at Amelia. ‘Rosamund used to be the Northern Indoor Champion.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t want to play you then.’ Amelia knew she sounded stiff and awkward, and a strange little grunt – meant to be a laugh – was expelled from her mouth.
‘Rosamund’s an amazing swimmer too, aren’t you, Rosamund?’
‘Enough, Caroline,’ Rosamund said. ‘You’re making me sound like a superhero.’
‘Well, in some ways you are.’
Please stop, Mum! You sound far too needy. It was like she was trying to impress the most popular girl at school.
The man and teenage girl approached carrying holdalls, both smiling.
‘Ah, this is my husband – Neil,’ Rosamund said. ‘And my daughter – Elise.’
‘Stepdaughter,’ Elise snapped.
Neil put his arm around Rosamund’s waist. She stood taller than him, and although his stance gave off a confident, self-assured vibe, there was something jittery about him under the surface. He pushed back his neat brown hair with his fingers. ‘It’s good to put a face to the courageous woman Rosamund talks so much about.’
Amelia sucked in a sigh, and turned to the teenage girl with her nose in a phone with a glittery pink “E” on the case. ‘The signal’s bad up here,’ the girl said, shoving it in her pocket.
‘It’s erratic,’ Amelia agreed. And while she had her attention added, ‘I’ve got a sister about your age. She’s here, so maybe you two could team up. Have some fun. At least you won’t be bored.’
‘Does she like Monopoly?’
‘Maybe. Well, she used to.’
Elise shrugged. ‘No big deal if she doesn’t. I rarely get bored anyway.’ Her fringe was pinned back from her forehead with clips, revealing a rash of tiny freckles across her otherwise pale face and turned-up nose. She tucked her fair, collar-length hair behind her ears. ‘I like to read,’ she said. She was well spoken, but sharp. ‘I’ve brought some books to study.’ She looked up at her father, with her bright blue eyes, and smiled. ‘I hate taking time out of school, but as long as I make use of my time here wisely, it should be OK.’
‘Elise is a good girl,’ Neil said, ruffling her hair, and she giggled, looking up at him once more.
The girl was different to Lark, younger by a year or so – sixteen probably – and clearly a lover of pink, if her padded jacket was anything to go by. Amelia wasn’t sure they would get on anyway; Elise was still a child, Lark a young woman.
‘You can pick up your keys from reception, Rosamund,’ Amelia said. Turning, she pointed to Primrose Cottage at the far end of the site, and backing onto the forest. ‘And that’s where you’ll be staying.’
‘Beautiful,’ Rosamund said. ‘I can’t wait to spend time with you all. Is Jackson here?’ She glanced about her.
‘Taking a shower,’ Caroline said. ‘We’re all going down to the beach later for a picnic. I know it’s November, but the sun’s out. I thought it might be nice.’
‘Sounds perfect.’ Rosamund looked at Neil and Elise. ‘Right, let’s get our keys, shall we?’
Chapter 19
A Year Ago
Amelia
‘Finally,’ Amelia whispered, her eyes scanning William’s brief message that had just appeared on her phone screen.
All good here! Cat fine! See you when you get back!
‘You OK, love?’ her dad said, as she shoved her phone into her pocket.
‘Fine,’ she said, but felt far from it.
She was snuggled into her thick Aran sweater and jeans. Despite the sun beaming down from a pastel-blue sky onto the golden sand, it was nowhere near warm enough to be sitting on a deserted stretch of beach in the Scottish Highlands.
Rosamund had opened the hamper Ruth had made, and laid out a homemade quiche, bread rolls filled with ham and cheese, and two flasks of tea, onto a tartan blanket, but so far nobody had eaten anything. It all felt too forced.
Amelia had dropped down onto the sand a few feet away from everyone else ten minutes ago, and was now attempting to build a castle with a tablespoon. Her mum seemed happy, despite the chill in the air, sitting in her deckchair facing the sea, a blanket covering her knees. She was flanked by Jackson and Rosamund, and Amelia tried hard to give the impression she didn’t mind them hogging her mum, but the truth was she did, and it was clear Lark was bothered too. In fact, she’d drifted away from the gathering and was now down by the shoreline, her back to them as she kicked sand, seeming deep in thought.
Everyone but Thomas and Maddie were there. Thomas had cried off, saying he had a headache, and Amelia wondered if he was finding all of this harder than he was letting on.
‘I’m sure I just saw a bottlenose dolphin,’ her dad said suddenly excited, binoculars pinned to his eyes. Neil, who sat beside him reading from his phone, glanced up, squinted towards the sea, and then looked back at his screen.
Elise was leaning against the rocks a short distance away from the group, reading from her Kindle. She was wearing a pink pom-pom hat pulled low, with her pink padded jacket, jeans, and spotted wellingtons.
Lark turned towards them and raised her hand. ‘I’m going for a walk, Mum,’ she called. She seemed to be struggling more t
han ever since Rosamund and her family arrived.
Amelia watched her sister meander along the beach, tall and willowy in her flowing black dress, and jacket, the breeze catching her blonde hair. She wanted to go after her, tell her everything would be OK. But it was hard to leave, and in truth she wasn’t sure everything would be OK, and eventually Lark was out of sight.
‘That’s pretty good.’ It was Elise, by Amelia’s side, admiring her attempts at building a sandcastle.
‘I thought I might add a moat,’ Amelia said, drawing a circle around her castle with her gloved finger. ‘But I need water, and I didn’t bring a bucket.’
Elise laughed, and rummaged in her rucksack. ‘Here,’ she said, brandishing a large empty water bottle.
‘Right, let’s get some water then.’ Amelia rose, brushed sand from her jeans, and followed Elise towards the sea.
Once at the water’s edge, Elise bent and scooped water into the bottle. ‘This could take a while,’ she said, as a frothy wave covered her wellington boots. ‘So, what do you think of Drummondale House?’ She rose with the full bottle, and, staring at it, gave it a shake.
‘It’s OK, why?’
‘I think it’s a bit eerie with those ruins and creepy statues. My wicked stepmother thought it was charming, until I told her about the masked figure, and now she’s officially freaked.’ She giggled.
Amelia’s eyes widened. ‘What do you mean, masked figure?’
‘Oh, don’t worry. I made it up to give her the creeps.’
‘You don’t like her?’ She glanced up the beach at Rosamund.
‘Can’t stand her.’ Elise screwed up her face. ‘She flirts with other men, and Daddy just can’t see it. Daddy says I’ve got to learn to get along with her, but I never will. I hate her.’
‘Hate is a strong word.’
‘But she stole my dad from me.’ She glared up the beach. ‘Christ she’s coming. I bet she thinks I’m talking about her.’
‘Elise!’ Rosamund called as she hurried down the sand. ‘Everything OK?’
‘I was just telling Amelia about the masked figure, is all.’ She threw Amelia a conspiring look.
‘Darling, Daddy wants you,’ Rosamund said, seeming to ignore the comment about the masked figure.
‘Fine.’ Elise handed Amelia the bottle, water splashing from it, and hurried away, skipping up the beach towards her father, the pom-pom on her hat bouncing.
*
‘She can be difficult,’ Rosamund said, as they ambled back up the beach. ‘She’s played some awful tricks on me over the past two years. But I’ve got used to it. Her father’s away a lot, and she’d been without a mother figure for so long. Neil relied on nannies who never lasted. She put a frog in the last one’s bag the day she left.’
‘Maybe she needs to see a psychologist.’
‘Maybe. I thought, at first, she just needed plenty of love and attention. It was a tragedy that she lost her mother so young, but I’ve tried so hard to give her that …’ Her voice cracked.
Amelia touched her arm. ‘It can’t be easy taking on someone else’s child – especially a teen.’
‘It’s not. But, as I say, I’m trying my best.’
They reached the others, and Rosamund sat back down, and Amelia dropped onto the sand once more. She didn’t attempt to make the moat around her sandcastle. Instead she rolled up her scarf, laid it on the beach, flopped her head down onto it, and closed her eyes.
The low chatter around her was oddly soothing.
‘I used to come here a lot with my parents,’ her mum was saying. ‘I loved it. In fact, I remember Ruth from when we came camping here in the Seventies, would you believe? I’m not sure she remembers me though.’
Amelia opened her eyes, and pulled herself to a sitting position. Her mum hadn’t mentioned knowing Ruth.
‘Hers was quite a sad story really,’ her mum continued. ‘Ruth was in love with Michael Collis back then, and he loved her too. But their parents disapproved – a real Romeo and Juliet situation. Michael’s father was angry that Ruth’s mother owned some of the estate’s land. His grandfather had lost it in a poker game, or something like that.’
‘Who are Ruth and Michael Collis?’ Rosamund asked.
‘Michael owns the estate now, and Ruth you met on reception.’
‘Ah, the strange woman.’
‘A little eccentric perhaps.’
Amelia shuffled onto her elbows. The sea was calm, the sun flashing on the blue making her squint. Waves ruffled pebbles as they travelled up the beach. She turned to look at her mum – who was smiling and still talking, seeming content – and felt some of that contentment absorb into her. But beautiful moments in life are fragile. This moment wouldn’t last. She knew that. How could it? She couldn’t stop time. She couldn’t stop her mother from dying.
‘I’m going for a paddle,’ Rosamund said, rising and breaking the spell. ‘Anyone else?’
Amelia jumped to her feet, suppressing tears. ‘I’ll come.’
Jackson rose too, and she wanted to sit back down again, but knew it would hurt her mum if she did, so, when nobody else got up, the three strolled down the beach towards the sea.
Amelia veered away from them as soon as they reached the shoreline, and started looking for shells and pebbles, picking one up that shone all shades of green.
When she turned to show Jackson and Rosamund, they’d taken off their shoes and socks and were paddling, laughing as they kicked water at each other, her blonde hair swishing in the sun’s rays. And although Amelia felt sure it was harmless, she was irritated by their frivolity, and couldn’t help recalling what Elise had said about Rosamund being a flirt.
That’s when she thought she saw it – a look between them – something almost tangible, as Rosamund pushed him over and he fell with a splash, soaking his jeans.
Amelia batted away her distrust when she glanced up at her mum who was laughing too as she watched on. I must have been mistaken, she told herself.
Chapter 20
A Year Ago
Ruth
It was gone 3 p.m. and most of her guests were still at the beach, and although she’d seen Maddie having a cigarette on the porch outside her cottage earlier, she and Thomas were now tucked inside.
Ruth grabbed a handful of clean towels and headed towards Rosamund’s cottage, and let herself in. She wanted to know more about her new visitors. The woman, Rosamund, she wasn’t that keen on – got tickets on herself that one – far too full of her own importance with her designer clothes, and swirling, curling hair. She was heavily made-up too, thick foundation like clay. And there was something else she’d observed when they’d collected their keys: Ruth really didn’t buy the woman’s fondness for her stepdaughter.
Now, the man – Neil – he seemed nice enough, in a dull, work-absorbed kind of way. He seemed to adore Rosamund, though Ruth suspected he adored the child more.
Once inside their cottage, Ruth climbed the stairs. From there she entered Elise’s room.
A white nightshirt with a dog on the front was folded neatly on the girl’s pillow, and a book lay open on the bedside cabinet next to a notepad and pen. Ruth picked up the pad, and perched on the edge of the bed, her hand absentmindedly stroking a fluffy toy dog. The pages in Elise’s book were full of neatly written maths equations, followed by several pages of writing in French. Elise was clearly studious.
Ruth rose and placed two towels at the foot of the teenager’s bed. There’s nothing much to see here.
She made her way into Rosamund and Neil’s room, which smelt of aftershave, and hairspray. Ruth put two towels on the end of the bed, and looked at her watch. She shouldn’t hang about; they would be back soon.
She hurried downstairs once more, noticing a game of Monopoly set out on the coffee table. Silver counters: the dog and the top hat, piles of toy money laid out around the edges.
Ruth padded towards the door, and ran her hand over Rosamund’s orange coat hanging on the rack. Before s
he could stop herself, she’d lifted it down, and slipped it on. It was far too long for her, almost touching the floor, but she didn’t care. She rolled her chin over the soft collar. It smelt of expensive perfume.
Within moments she was strutting up and down the lounge, as though on a catwalk, spinning around several times. Oh, to be as beautiful as Rosamund – oh to have had the life I should have had.
The door swung open. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ It was Rosamund. Her arms folded across her yellow anorak, her face red with rage.
‘Nothing,’ Ruth said, almost toppling as she took off the coat.
‘How is putting on my coat nothing?’ Rosamund snapped.
‘Sorry. It’s just so beautiful. Sorry.’
Neil and Elise appeared behind Rosamund.
‘I just brought fresh towels,’ Ruth babbled, shoving the coat into Rosamund’s arms. ‘I’ve put them on the beds.’ And without another word, she pushed past the congregated family, and headed back to her cottage.
Chapter 21
A Year Ago
Amelia
The sun was going down, now a shimmering spread of deep orange on the horizon, reflecting on the sea.
There was no sign of Lark.
Rosamund and Neil had taken the others back to Drummondale House some time ago, and Amelia and her dad now made their way down the beach in the direction Lark had gone several hours before.
‘She’s lost track of time, that’s all,’ Amelia said, trying to keep up with her dad’s long strides. But she couldn’t help thinking Lark was being inconsiderate, taking off – worrying everyone – again. ‘Are you OK, Dad?’ she added, when he didn’t reply.
‘Do I look OK?’ He blinked furiously. ‘Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, love. It’s just hard enough, all this.’
I Lie in Wait: A gripping new psychological crime thriller perfect for fans of Ruth Ware! Page 9