I try not to let Davina’s blatant avoidance tactics play on my mind, busying myself with helping Finley with his spellings, cooking tea and then getting him and a very reluctant Leo ready for bed. Finally, at eight o’clock, I collapse on the sofa with a glass of wine to unwind. Nick will be here any minute, so I must only have the one. I don’t want to be tipsy and say stupid things to him that I’ll regret in the morning.
A loud knocking wakes me. I can’t believe I drifted off. It’s nine-fifteen; Nick must’ve worked even later than he thought he would.
When I open the door, Nick is standing there, a concerned look on his face.
‘What happened here?’ he asks, his fingers manipulating the broken plastic of the doorbell.
‘It seems someone didn’t like being watched?’ I say.
‘This was done on purpose?’
‘Yep, I’m guessing so.’ I usher him inside. ‘While I was in as well. I heard a noise, but by the time I realised where it had come from, it was too late. No one to be seen.’ I feel groggy after napping; I rub my eyes.
‘None of the neighbours saw anything?’
‘Not even Davina,’ I say.
‘Well, now that is odd. I’ll sort a new one for you. I’ll get a decent one, and subscribe for you so you can record, too.’
I’m so grateful I almost kiss him.
Remember why you split, Amber.
‘Thank you, but you don’t need to do that.’
‘I do, actually. I’d feel better knowing you feel safer with it.’
I smile. ‘Hot chocolate?’
‘Yes, that would be good – it’s freezing out there and I’ve been sitting in a car watching a house for the best part of twenty-four hours.’ He rubs his hands together as though to prove he’s cold, but his glowing cheeks are already testament to this.
‘Really? That’s not usually something you’d do, is it?’
‘As I said last time I was here, this case has really got to me. I’m probably what you’d refer to as obsessed …’
It was what I’d often said to Nick. He’d lose himself in the job and everything became about his current case. Life revolved around it. Me and the boys barely existed in his mind. Not my concern now, though.
Following a round of neutral conversational topics, Nick asks why I wanted to see him. After my conversation earlier with Olive, then the enlightening one with the playground mum, I’m unsure what I even want to say to him. I decide to go with the truth.
‘I was going to put a proposal to you.’
His eyebrows lift. ‘Oh? And there I was thinking you wanted a divorce.’
I give a small, nervous laugh and move on quickly.
‘The proposal being that I move with the boys to a house in Eastbourne, which is closer to Richard and will be rent-free for a year, and you move back here to oversee the house sale.’
Nick’s jaw slackens and I watch as the ruddy red colour leaves his cheeks. ‘Oh, I see.’ He gets up and walks to the lounge window, his back to me so I can’t read his expression. A sharp pain shoots through my chest. He wasn’t expecting this to be what I was going to say. Did he think I might be asking for a reconciliation? The thought crashes into my mind, but I know I’ve never given any indication that was on the table, and I clearly stated in the text I wanted to talk to him about the house. Why is he acting as though I’ve delivered a fatal blow?
‘It was just an idea. To be honest, I’m not even sure about it. I wanted to run it by you, though.’
‘Well, you’re going anyway if the house sells, so I’m guessing you’re not asking for my permission.’ I wince at the sharpness of his tone, but he’s hurting, like a wounded animal, and I know it’s just a reaction to his pain. I also know at this moment he’d like nothing more than to retreat, go off on his own to lick his wounds. But he stays.
‘No, not as such. I wanted your thoughts,’ I say, softly. ‘I mean, would you be happy to move back in and be the one to manage the viewings and, with luck, the house sale?’
‘Don’t think I’d have much time to oversee it. I’d have to leave it up to the estate agent.’
‘As I say, it was a thought. Richard came up with the Plan B in case …’ I don’t finish my sentence. I feel bad bringing his name up. I shouldn’t. But it’s too late. ‘And I’m thinking of changing agents anyway.’
‘Is this because of the key issue? The locks have been done and he doesn’t have a key to the new one, does he?’
‘No, but other things have come to light since then. I thought I was losing my mind – making things up, the strange goings-on were all my imagination – because of the stress. Today, Olive even made me take my holiday because she’s worried about me; I’m off for a week now. But after a conversation at school this afternoon – someone telling me Carl was having an affair with Leo’s schoolteacher, my trust in him has plummeted further.’
‘Oh, wow. Is it just gossip though? You know what the school playground is like.’
‘It’s possible. But I’ve begun looking into another agency anyway. Davina said she’s seen Carl bringing the same people to the house on several different occasions; I think he’s trying to make out he’s getting lots of interest, but nothing ever comes of it. He’s probably too busy conducting his bloody affairs to commit to selling our house!’
‘Okay, it does sound like a good idea, given his lack of progress. He hasn’t even kept me posted despite me asking him to ring me each week with updates.’
‘He’s got nothing to tell you, that’s why. And while he clearly thinks he can fob me off with his excuses, I’m sure he will be wary of you.’
‘At the moment then, you’re going to sit tight and wait and see what happens? Or are you going to be packing up and leaving for Eastbourne next week?’ He gives a weak smile, then begins slowly pacing from the window to the kitchen door and back.
‘I don’t know, Nick. My head is all over the place and I make a decision one day, then change it the next. I’m confused about what I want. I can’t go backwards, I know that. And I do want to be with Richard. As far as I can see, my only options are to stay indefinitely and drive myself nuts or rent the place in Eastbourne, which is an hour and half away from Richard …’ I pause before dropping the next bombshell. ‘Or the other option is to sell to the developers to speed it all up and release us both so we can begin our futures.’
‘You can’t do that, Amber,’ Nick says immediately.
‘Ethically, no. But legally, there’s nothing to stop us.’
‘My mother?’
‘She can’t, Nick. It’s not her house anymore; she has no say in who we sell to.’
‘But she’s been adamant since the plans were originally made public that no one should sell out to them, not even a piece of their land – the gardens might be long, but they belong to the householders, and the developers would take it bit by bit until they own it all and demolish the entire row of houses. You know that. Don’t you care? Just because you’re fucking off to live elsewhere and won’t see the destruction, the eyesore of new buildings – don’t you have an ounce of responsibility?’
‘That’s unfair, Nick.’
‘Is it? Because you want a quick sale, you’d shit on all of the villagers to get what you want?’
‘Next door sold to them and no one’s saying anything about that.’
‘You’re wrong, actually. But anyway, ultimately it would need both of our signatures. So, unless you’re intending to forge mine, it isn’t happening.’ His pacing of the lounge becomes more frantic. I need to calm him down, but all I feel is panic; an overwhelming sense I’m losing control.
‘It was only an option, Nick. As was living in Eastbourne.’ I’m crying for the second time today and hate myself for showing weakness.
‘I know you want to move on. And I understand you wanting to consider every option. But this is where my memories are.’ He waves an arm around the room. ‘It’s where Tim is. My dad. It’s hard to let all of that go on top of having
to let you go, too.’ He stops pacing now and stands still, his head hanging.
‘I know this is a huge step for you, Nick. It was never an easy decision for me to ask you to leave.’
‘No, I know. I realise that.’ I hear him inhale, then he looks at me. His eyes are shining with tears. ‘And I know I’ve only myself to blame. But please, for me and Mum, don’t ask me to sell to those arseholes. I’d come to terms with the knowledge someone other than my family might live in this house, but at least it would be a family – people like us. Not them. Not people who are only going to tear it down.’ He shakes his head. ‘They don’t care about this village; they only care about big profits. It would ruin Stockwood. I’m not asking purely for myself, here. I’m asking for everyone.’
Chapter Forty-Eight
Amber
There’s a prolonged silence after Nick says his piece. I mull his words over in my mind. He’s right, of course. I can’t do anything without his signature. I don’t want to cause an argument now. I asked him over here and all I’ve done is create a terrible atmosphere. I don’t really know what I expected to gain from bringing up Eastbourne, or about selling to the developers – I think I wanted him to say either one of them was a great idea. Maybe I was hoping for reassurance. Or some kind of eureka moment whereby he said something that suddenly made everything clear to me. I wanted him to make a decision for me. Just like old times.
‘I’m sorry for dragging you over here and then causing upset,’ I say.
‘It’s fine. But maybe we can talk about something else?’
I nod. ‘How’s your day been?’
Nick’s face softens. A smile replaces the harsh line his lips have been in the last few minutes.
‘I miss coming home to you and sharing my day.’
‘You rarely shared anything with me, Nick. You’d come home, climb in the shower, eat, then fall asleep on the sofa and snore so loudly I wouldn’t be able to hear the telly.’
He laughs. ‘Don’t dress it up, will you? And I did talk to you. A bit, anyway. But now there’s not even the option.’
‘And whatsherface? How come you’re not sharing stuff with her anymore?’
The silence stretches. Then I hear him take a ragged breath.
‘That’s over.’
As simply put as that. All the trouble that home-wrecker caused and she’s not even on the scene anymore. I thought I’d be pleased, but instead I’m angry. In a way, though, she did me a favour – she enabled me to see who Nick really was. She exposed the cracks of the marriage and then sat back, watching, while it broke apart totally. But to think it was for nothing hurts. I try to remember I have found someone who will treat me better, though. It’s irrelevant now how and why me and Nick split up; I need to focus on the future.
‘It’s late,’ I say, changing the subject.
‘Yes. I’d best get going.’ Nick pushes himself up off the sofa. ‘I’m so stupid. I should’ve known better,’ he says. ‘You and the boys were the best part of my life and I screwed it up.’
‘Yes. You did.’
‘I honestly want you to be happy, Amber. I know my mother doesn’t understand that and is trying ridiculously hard to turn back the clock for me. But as long as Richard is good for you, and he makes you happier than I ever could, that’s all that matters now.’
I’m unconvinced. The words seem empty; hollow. Like he’s saying them because he feels he should, not because he means them. I’m about to pursue this line of thinking and delve deeper, but I don’t have the strength. ‘Thank you – I appreciate that, Nick,’ I say, instead. ‘It’s a shame Barb can’t let us get on with it. She’s going to push me and the boys further away with what she’s doing.’
Nick looks taken aback. ‘She’s frustrating sometimes, I know, but don’t give her too much of a hard time. She doesn’t mean any harm.’
‘Really? You do know she’s been going to the estate agent’s office, don’t you?’ I didn’t mean to tell him without first having obtained more proof, but I’ve let it slip now.
‘No, I didn’t. She’s probably only going to find out what the latest is.’
‘Well, one – that’s not her concern, and two – she could ask me. Or you. But no, she’s going behind our backs and then lying about it. She’s up to no good. She’s getting information about the viewers and putting them off the property. That’s why there’s been no interest.’ I’ve completely overstepped the mark here. I shouldn’t have laid out my suspicions without back-up facts. Telling Nick that his mother is sabotaging our house sale isn’t the best idea, not least because his detective mind will immediately want solid proof.
‘Olive was right. The stress really has got to you. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with calling Mum out all the time. She’s done nothing but support you – our family – since day one. Why have you got it in for her?’
This really hasn’t gone the way I’d hoped. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I’ve already upset the apple cart tonight, but now I’ve really alienated Nick. Why did I bring this up right as he’s about to leave?
‘I’m tired, Nick. I’m rambling. Sorry. Ignore me,’ I say, trying to undo the damage of what’s been said. We walk to the front door. ‘The broken doorbell, Carl, the things disappearing then reappearing in the house – it’s all getting to me.’ I haven’t mentioned finding the diary that I witnessed Carl leave the house with. My hunch is Barb is behind that. But there’s no point telling Nick after his reaction a moment ago. We say a subdued goodbye on the doorstep, and I watch as his car leaves the cul-de-sac.
I look across the road and up to Davina’s house. It’s in complete darkness. I need to speak to her tomorrow, so I hope she doesn’t avoid me again. We need to get firm evidence that Barb is interfering with the house sale and that Carl is faking the viewings. I need her help.
A scream rips through the house.
Leo.
I take the stairs two at a time and reach his room as he is running out of it. His little body crashes into mine. His skin is slick with sweat, his face the colour of milk.
‘He was there, he was there,’ he shouts. ‘At the end of my bed. Watching me.’
‘Shh, shh, darling, it’s okay, it’s okay.’ I try soothing him. His body trembles underneath my hands.
‘What does he want, Mummy? What does the man in our house want?’
Chapter Forty-Nine
Amber
‘Is it haunted?’ Jo says. I’m at home, the first full day of my “encouraged” annual leave. I knocked on Davina’s door again first thing this morning and she wasn’t in. Neither was her husband – the mysterious Wayne – so I’ve set myself up on a stool, with my laptop balancing on the windowsill, enabling me to search the internet and watch out of the lounge for Davina to come home.
How the tables have turned.
‘What kind of question is that?’ I shout down the phone.
‘All right – calm down. It’s a relative one, don’t you think?’
‘Why would it suddenly become haunted after all these years, Jo?’
‘Poltergeists aren’t attached to houses; they’re attached to people. And children in partic—’
‘Enough, Jo, please! It’s not a ghost.’ I type in poltergeists into the search bar on my laptop, then immediately click off the page-full of resulting hits. I don’t need to add to my paranoia.
‘So, you think an actual person – a man – is breaking into your house and standing over your son when he’s in bed? Then he’s nowhere to be seen seconds after you reach the room? Yeah, that’s far more likely.’
‘I realise it doesn’t make sense any more than the ghost theory. And if I’m honest, I think I’d rather the haunted option to be the correct one. But maybe it all stems from the open house …’
‘The elusive thirteenth viewer,’ Jo states in a monotone.
‘Yes. I don’t know why, or how, but it’s only after that day that Leo’s nightmares starred this “man in the house”.’
&
nbsp; ‘But it was also after he overheard you talking to Richard, saying you were concerned someone was inside.’
‘I know. That’s a valid point. God, this is driving me mad.’
‘And you said Nick was over last night. Did he go upstairs and look in on the boys?’
‘I’m not sure. I mean, he did go to the loo at one point. But not when Leo screamed.’
‘Set your phone to record,’ Jo says. ‘That way, you’ll be sure.’
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea.’ The thought scares me, because if I do see someone on the recording, I’ll freak out. But, at least it would be hard evidence I can take to the police. They would have to investigate; ensure our safety. If I see a ghostly figure, on the other hand – we’ll all be moving out that instant and I don’t care where to.
I catch a movement outside.
‘Ooh! Jo, sorry, I’ve got to go. Davina’s home.’
‘This is the most bizarre conversation we’ve ever had, you know that?’ I visualise Jo shaking her head in disbelief.
‘Yes, yes. Don’t get me started. Speak soon.’
I pop the laptop back onto the kitchen table and grab my keys.
Davina is barely inside her house when I bang on her door. She answers straight away.
‘I’ve only just got home, Amber,’ she says.
I refrain from saying, ‘Now you know how it feels,’ and instead launch into my recent findings.
‘You saw Barb going into your estate agent’s?’ Davina’s eyes are wide. ‘Did you take a photo?’ she whispers, casting her eyes behind her into her hallway. She pulls the door to so we’re both standing outside. This strikes me as odd. Why is she keeping me on the doorstep?
‘No, not at that exact moment, unfortunately. It took me by surprise. I only took a photo of her on the street along from the office. But it’s better than nothing – it puts her in the vicinity and proves she was in town at that time. She’s already skirted around her whereabouts when I asked her if she’d been out that day.’
The Open House Page 16