I’m distracted by whispering behind me. I can hear a couple of teenage boys and I wait for them to make fun of my bare feet or matted hair.
‘That’s her. It’s definitely her,’ one of them giggles. ‘The one in the red dress.’
‘Oh yeah,’ says the other. ‘She was so hot. Is that the same dress? What’s all over it? Gross.’
‘Looks like bl—’
‘Excuse me.’ I turn around and cut across them, and as much as it pains me to ask, I add, ‘Did you see me last night? Here, wearing this dress?’
They look me up and down.
‘Did you see me?’ I raise my voice. They don’t answer and I shout, ‘Did you?’
One of them grabs the other by the arm and they leave together, turning their heads over their shoulders to glare at me.
Feeling the eyes of everyone dotted around the lobby on me, I turn back to face the girl on reception.
‘Don’t mind them,’ she says. ‘From what I hear, the party got pretty wild last night. I’m sure their parents were just as tipsy and feeling equally as bad today.’
She thinks I’m hungover. I don’t know whether to be relieved or embarrassed.
‘Did you see me here last night?’ I ask, my face burning, and I’ve no doubt it’s as red as my dress. ‘Was I with someone? A man?’
‘Wow, it really was a wild night, eh?’ She smiles, trying so hard to be kind. ‘I didn’t see any of it, I’m afraid. My shift only just started.’
‘Oh.’ I sigh. ‘Was someone else here? Did anyone else see me?’ My head is spinning. I feel as groggy and hungover as she thinks I am.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘Reception closes at midnight. I don’t think anyone would have seen you last night? Is there anything I can help you with?’
I shake my head.
‘Is everything okay?’ She lowers her voice to a barely audible whisper. ‘You’re suddenly very pale. Has something happened?’
I choke back tears. Something happened nearly twenty years ago.
‘Is it a noise issue? I know we had a lot of complaints about noise on that corridor last night. I can assure you that’s not usual and the hotel takes the safety of its guests very seriously.’
I straighten, suddenly very serious. ‘What kind of noise?’
‘Would you like to speak to the owner?’ she asks. ‘He was at the party last night. I might still catch him if I call now.’
‘I . . . eh . . .’ I will my brain to think faster.
‘I’m sure Mr Buckley will be happy to help you.’
My eyes widen. ‘You know Mr Buckley.’
‘Yes. Of course.’ She nods. ‘He gets to know all the staff personally. He has a meeting this evening. He’ll be here any minute, I think. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to speak to you. He prides himself on quality service.’
It’s suddenly hard to breathe. ‘You’re expecting Andrew Buckley? Here.’ I point to the spot where I’m standing. ‘Right here, any minute.’
The girl looks at me with confusion. ‘Yes. He owns the place, after all.’
Oh God. ‘I have to go,’ I pant. ‘I have to go.’
I run.
Chapter Nine
DARCY
Monday 17 June 2019
Jinx barks just before the doorbell rings.
‘Can you get that?’ I shout from upstairs, hoping Luke will hear me as he potters about in the kitchen.
The doorbell rings again.
‘Luke,’ I say, stepping on to the landing in my dressing gown and face masque. ‘Luke, the door please.’
Ding. Dong.
I roll my eyes. ‘Luke?’
Nothing. I venture further on to the landing.
‘Where are you?’ I say, the kitchen suddenly still.
‘Jinx?’
Silence.
Downstairs is eerily still, exaggerating the age of my old house. The only sound is the groan of the floorboards beneath me as I step closer to the banister and look over to view the front door.
The doorbell doesn’t ring again, but through the stained glass on each side of the door I can see a shadow on the porch. They’re not moving.
I wait for the bell to ring again or for whoever is out there to leave. Neither happens.
‘Luke,’ I whisper.
The silence is all-consuming.
The door handle twists slowly and my heart races. The keys aren’t hanging in the lock the way they usually are, keeping the outside world sealed away. The door will open with a fraction of a twist more. My eyes are watering and stinging but I don’t blink.
I shriek as there’s a sudden rattle and the heavy double doors of the sitting room part suddenly.
‘Hey, there you are,’ Luke says, carrying a very mucky Jinx under his arm. ‘This little devil crawled under the decking. He’s bloomin’ filthy. It’s taken me twenty minutes to coax him out.’
‘Someone’s at the door,’ I say, pointing.
Luke cranes his neck as Jinx growls and yelps, demanding to be put down.
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t see anyone.’
‘They were there. They were turning the handle. They were going to come in. The keys aren’t in the lock.’
‘Darcy, honey, it’s probably just a sales rep or someone looking for directions. Nothing to worry about.’
My face is hot and I imagine that under my thick white face masque my cheeks are pink with frustration. I know how ridiculous I sound, but I can’t help feeling something isn’t right recently. Luke hasn’t said it, but I know he thinks I’m a paranoid mess since Lindsay’s show. Maybe he’s right.
‘You’re tired, honey,’ Luke says. ‘Why don’t you have a lie-down. I’ll clean Jinx up and then I’ll bring you up a cup of tea or something. I think you need it.’
‘Um,’ I say, having no intention of getting into bed. ‘Yeah, okay. Thanks. Put the kettle on.’
Luke crosses the hall and walks into the kitchen wrestling to keep Jinx in his arms. I wait until I hear him running the tap before I hurry down the stairs. I press my face close to the front door and stare through the peephole. The row of red-brick houses across the street stare back at me like tall, stiff soldiers. I strain my eyes left and right, taking in as much of the street as the tiny hole will allow. There’s no one out there. Not even a neighbour walking by. It’s like a still from a movie set. At any moment the director will yell ‘Action!’ and everything will come to life.
Jinx begins howling – Luke must be attempting to wash him. A car drives past and the woman across the street opens her front door and walks down the steps on to the footpath. It’s noisy again. Noisy and familiar and, without over-thinking it, my fingers curl around the handle and I try to open the door. It doesn’t budge. Luke must have locked it after all. I shake my head at my silliness as I grab the keys off the low sideboard next to me and finally open the door.
I give a sigh of relief. A brown cardboard box with a white card on top waits on the porch mat.
A delivery, I think, realising how foolish I’ve been.
‘Hello, Darcy,’ my neighbour shouts and waves from across the street.
‘Hey,’ I shout back.
‘I was just coming to take that in for you. I thought no one was home,’ she says.
‘Oh.’ I cringe. ‘I was napping.’
She makes a face, and I remember my anti-ageing masque. God, I’m a terrible liar.
Thankfully she doesn’t dwell and her face lights up and she points to my bump. ‘Not long to go now, eh?’
‘No. Not too long.’
‘I bet you can’t wait. It’s the best feeling in the world, Darcy. Nothing will ever be the same again.’
I smile. And I don’t tell my lovely neighbour that that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
‘Do you want a hand with that?’ she asks, getting a little closer. ‘Looks like it could be heavy.’
‘No thanks. Luke’s here,’ I say.
‘Okay. See you soon,’ she chirps, walking awa
y.
‘Bye.’
I struggle to bend down, and it’s even harder to get back up. I take a moment to curse my new body shape. The box isn’t heavy and I close the door and shuffle backwards into the house with it. I suspect it’s something Luke has ordered online for the baby. He’s obsessed with buying stuff for the nursery. All neutral colours, of course, because he doesn’t want to know if it’s a boy or girl.
‘Let’s keep it a surprise,’ he said at our first scan, deciding for both of us.
I hope whatever he’s ordered this time isn’t expensive. Our credit card is nearly maxed out. Luke keeps telling me not to worry, but until Mr Buckley signs on the dotted line I can’t relax.
I set the box down on the sideboard and read the card on top. ‘Darcy’s Dishes’ is clearly written in large swirly handwriting. Exhaling, I realise whatever is inside is most likely work related. I ordered some new labels for our lasagne last week but I usually direct that kind of stuff to the factory. I read the card again, confused when I find no address anywhere on the box. How did the delivery person know where to find me?
I crane my neck towards the kitchen. It sounds as if Luke and Jinx are locked in a battle of wits, going by the odd noises they are making. And it would seem my husband is losing. Poor Luke, I think as I lift the card and peel back some wide brown tape sealing each side of the lid.
I gasp excitedly when I part both sides and I’m met with a mound of raffia paper. Blue and pink shreds battle for space. It’s the first gift I’ve received for the baby and I guess it’s from the staff at the factory. My heart pinches a little as I allow myself a moment to miss my days in the factory and a staff who are the first family I have known for years. I decide it doesn’t matter how much Luke protests; I am going into work tomorrow, even just for a couple of hours.
I tuck into the huge mound of paper. It separates and a few stray pieces scatter as I dig deep to find what’s inside. Nothing! I dig deeper, scattering paper on to the ground, and finally the light catches something silver in the corner of the box. Smiling, I reach for the bracelet. Oh Luke, I think, torn between loving the thoughtful gesture and wishing he wouldn’t spend money right now. The delicate bangle is slightly tarnished and warped as if it’s spent years lovingly wrapped around someone’s wrist. An antique. I flinch, afraid to even guess what it cost. I’m about to slip it over my hand when a bolt of recognition charges up my spine like an electric shock. I squeal and drop the bracelet. It stubbornly spins like a dreidel on the hall tiles before flopping on to its side, staring up at me. My eyes are wide with disbelief as I run towards the kitchen.
Luke meets me at the kitchen door with a wet and soapy Jinx in his arms. ‘What is it? Are you in pain? Is it the baby?’
‘I . . . I . . .’ Words won’t come out. The sudden movement has upset my stomach and I throw up on the floor.
‘Oh God, Darcy.’ Luke drapes his arm over my shoulder and guides me towards the kitchen table, ignoring the mess I’ve just made.
I’m light-headed as he pulls out a chair and I sit. Jinx escapes Luke’s grip and scurries into my arms. I’m barely functioning enough to catch him as he whimpers and licks my face, trying to take care of me.
‘I’ll get you some water,’ Luke says, steadying me on the chair before he turns to the sink. ‘Do we need to go to the hospital? Does it hurt?’
‘I told you someone was at the door,’ I say, finally catching my breath.
‘Oh. There really was someone there,’ Luke says, running the tap.
‘Yeah.’
Luke doesn’t say anything more as he sidesteps a puddle on the floor in front of a sudsy sink where he’s been washing Jinx. He fills a glass of water and places it on the table in front of me and watches me with trepidation. I know he wants to ask if the baby is okay. He can’t take his eyes off my bump and when he does, he flicks them to the glass of water, hoping I’ll drink it.
‘I thought it was a gift at first,’ I explain.
‘At the door?’
I nod.
‘Then why did you scream?’ Luke folds his arms and I can see irritation sweep over him despite how hard he tries to hide it. ‘I really thought you were hurt.’
‘I thought it was from you,’ I say. ‘The bracelet.’
‘What bracelet?’ Luke exhales sharply. ‘Darcy, what’s going on? You haven’t been yourself for a while. And you really scared me just now. I thought the baby—’
‘It’s from her,’ I say, cutting him off.
Luke leans his head to one side as if he’s suddenly too tired to hold it up straight. ‘I know I’m going to regret asking this . . . but who? Who has been so awful they’ve sent you a bracelet?’
‘Luke I’m serious,’ I snap, frustration replacing shock. ‘It’s from Tina.’
Luke stands straighter. ‘Oh.’
‘Exactly. Oh.’
‘That is a bit odd, in fairness.’
‘Oh, it gets weirder,’ I add. ‘It’s not just any bracelet.’
‘Is it expensive?’ Luke asks. ‘Maybe it’s a peace offering. Hopefully she’s realised she was way out of line that other day.’
‘Peace offering. Ha!’ I roll my eyes. ‘That bracelet is twenty years old,’ I say. ‘I didn’t recognise it at first but it’s definitely the one we gave her.’
Luke snorts. ‘When did we give her a bracelet?’
‘Christmas. Our final year.’
Luke stares at me blankly.
‘A silver bangle. Delicate little thing. Remember?’
Luke’s gaze softens and he says, ‘If I say no, am I going to be in your bad books for weeks?’
I shake my head. ‘Don’t you remember anything from our schooldays? Were you even there at all?’
‘I remember that it’s where I met and fell in love with you. Nothing else is important.’
‘Nice try,’ I say. ‘Well, even if you don’t remember it, I do. And she knew I would, that’s why she sent it. It’s weird.’
‘It is weird,’ Luke says. ‘But so is going on television and inadvertently letting the whole country know you’re insane.’
‘What do you think she wants?’ I say. ‘I mean, why now? Why come back after all this time?’
‘We know what she wants,’ Luke says. ‘She’s broke and she thinks you can fix her problems for her the way you did in school. Ignore her, honey. She’s a waste of space.’
‘You really don’t remember the bracelet?’ It’s hard to hide my disappointment as I shoo Jinx off my knees and stand up. ‘It had a sort of swirly, Celtic font carved into it.’
I look at my husband and wait for that light-bulb moment. When it doesn’t come, I say, ‘Right, come on.’ I take him by the hand and lead him into the hall. Jinx follows us with his tail wagging excitedly.
‘Look,’ I say as we reach the sideboard.
‘At what?’ Luke asks.
My eyes are wide with disbelief. ‘It was there. Just a minute ago. I swear. I dropped it right there.’ I point to the floor.
‘Darcy.’ Luke stands behind me, rubbing my back in circles as Jinx barks at his ankles. ‘Let me take a look. Maybe it fell back into the box.’
I nod, humouring him, but I know what I saw.
The box is still on the sideboard next to the front door. I can see the pink-and-blue raffia paper inside. Luke edges forward, warily. I keep a comfortable distance. I notice his shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath and reaches into the box. His shoulders relax and he sighs as he turns around with a beautiful, silver bracelet dangling around his fingers.
‘That’s not it,’ I stutter, stepping back. ‘That’s a different bracelet. The other one was . . .’
Luke’s forehead crunches. ‘Darcy . . . honey . . .’
‘That bracelet wasn’t in the box a minute ago,’ I say, my eyes darting to the front door. ‘Someone switched them. Someone’s here. Someone is in the house.’
‘Darcy, please. Calm down,’ Luke says, stepping towards me. ‘Stress isn’t good for
you. For the baby. Take a deep breath.’
My heart is racing.
‘Come on. Come on.’ Luke breathes in slowly and out even slower, encouraging me to copy him.
Christ.
I turn on the spot. Scanning my house. My eyes can’t search fast enough. ‘Someone was here,’ I say. ‘Maybe they’re still here.’
Luke exhales again, sharper now. ‘Darcy, please. You’re scaring me.’
Jinx is chasing his tail next to me. He finally catches it, yelping as he bites.
‘Lie down, boy,’ Luke commands sternly. ‘Lie bloody down!’
Jinx crouches on to his belly and lowers his head.
I steady myself and stare at my husband. ‘You think I’m losing it, don’t you?’
Luke takes another step forward and his shoulders round, drained. ‘No. I think you’re tired, stressed out and feeling sick.’
‘But I’m not.’
‘The pregnancy has been hard and now with the TV stuff last week.’ Luke sighs and places his hand on my shoulder. ‘It’s my fault. I never should have let you go on the show.’
I shrug his hand off me.
Luke doesn’t say anything. But he follows my gaze to the front door.
Silence hangs in the strained air between us. I ignore it and tilt my ear towards the ceiling, trying to hear if someone is in my home. Upstairs, maybe. Nothing. My beautiful, old house doesn’t moan or groan or hint that anyone is here.
‘Look,’ Luke says, and I feel him shove a card into my hand. ‘Don’t you want to see who the bracelet is really from?’
I close my eyes. All I want is for everything to stop. This pregnancy from hell. My business hanging by a thread. Stupid Tina back after all this time. I want everything to go back to the way it was before.
‘Darcy, look,’ Luke says, his tone laced with frustration.
I open my eyes to find Luke turning the cardboard box upside down as he shakes it. Shredded raffia paper rains down on the floor. But nothing else. Luke sets the empty box back on the sideboard and drops to his knees. He pats his hands all over the floor and slowly stands back up.
‘See. There really is nothing to be afraid of. It was just your mind playing tricks on you.’
I stare at my husband with hooded eyes. I am not paranoid.
Keep Your Friends Close Page 6