The Woman Who Lied(26)
Emilia pulls her feet up underneath her. No wonder Elliot freaked out and insisted Ottilie come over. ‘I was going to tell him, but I didn’t want to worry him while he’s away. I didn’t want to tell him about the skylights either.’
‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. Anyway, I’m here now, and when I find out what piece of shit is doing this, I’ll … I’ll …’ She plays with the stem of her wine glass.
‘You’ll what?’
‘Give them a piece of my mind.’ They burst out laughing. It’s what their house mistress used to say to them. ‘Anyway …’ Ottilie flicks her hair back from her face. Her fingernails are painted bright pink ‘… it’s probably some geeky nerd who has a crush on you and wants your attention.’
‘A crush! I’m an overweight, middle-aged mum of two.’
‘You are not overweight! Don’t be so ridiculous. You have a great figure. And you’re not even forty. I’m sorry, but middle-aged is definitely over fifty, maybe even fifty-five, these days!’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. So there. God …’ She shakes her head while studying Emilia.
‘What? You’re unnerving me now.’
‘You! Jonas and Kristin really did a number on you, didn’t they?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re gorgeous, kind … and yet, I don’t know, you have such low self-esteem.’
Emilia feels tears prick her eyes and sips her wine to hide her feelings. ‘We can’t all be super-confident like you,’ she says, trying to sound light. ‘It’s easy to be confident when you’re five foot nine and look like Claudia Schiffer.’
‘I wish! I don’t look like Claudia Schiffer. And I have my insecurities as you well know. Maybe I made a mistake finishing with Stefan.’ She sips her wine. ‘I’d love to have what you have. Obviously not your current situation with this creeper.’
Emilia laughs despite herself. With Ottilie here things don’t seem quite as foreboding. She has a way of making Emilia feel lighter.
Ottilie sighs. ‘I’m a bit worried about my business, to be honest. Dad, thankfully, has lent me some money but I don’t know how much longer I can prop it up.’
‘Have things still not picked up?’
‘A bit. The woman in Hampton I saw this afternoon has a huge house and wants help with every room, so that will tide me over for a while. Maybe I’m just tiring of it, I dunno.’ She sits back against the cushions.
‘It would seem a shame if you stopped. You’ve been doing it now for nearly twelve years. I’m proud of you for sticking at it as long as you have,’ says Emilia.
Ottilie doesn’t have a great track record for sticking at things. She took a few years out before deciding to go to university, but then managed just one term before realizing a degree wasn’t for her. A myriad of dead-end jobs followed before she opted to do an interior-design course in her late twenties. There’s always been something restless about her friend. At school they’d bonded over their similar childhoods with parents who were physically and emotionally distant, Emilia’s because of her father’s job in the RAF and Ottilie’s due to her mum’s early death and a father who decided to move to Germany. Although they are the same age, Ottilie always seemed older to Emilia back then. More worldly and knowing, almost like a big sister, but she sensed that Ottilie was never really fulfilled, that she was always looking for some unobtainable thing to complete her.
They go to bed too late – Ottilie always was a night owl – and Emilia has only just dropped off to sleep when she’s woken by loud music blasting through the house. She sits up in bed, disoriented for a few seconds, and then her heart is banging, adrenaline pumping through her. What the hell?
The music sounds like it’s filtering through all the speakers that Elliot has set up around the house. Talking Heads’ ‘Psycho Killer’ of all things. She jumps out of bed and rushes onto the landing. Jasmine and Wilfie wander out of their respective bedrooms with bed hair and puzzled expressions, and the three stand in mutual shock until Ottilie darts down the stairs, resplendent in a long silk nightdress. ‘What the fuck – Oops, sorry.’ She claps a hand over her mouth and looks at Wilfie.
Emilia has to shout over the music to instruct Alexa to stop playing and the house falls mercifully silent.
‘Why has the music gone off in the middle of the night?’ Wilfie cries, staring up at Emilia with his big brown eyes.
She hugs him to her and kisses the top of his head. ‘She must have got confused. It’s okay.’
‘Perhaps it’s on the blink,’ says Ottilie, glancing at her with concern over the top of Wilfie’s head.
‘Is there a way to disconnect the speakers?’ asks Jasmine. ‘And why is it so cold?’
Emilia turns towards the staircase that leads to the attic and the back of her neck prickles. ‘Stay here,’ she instructs the kids. She can hear Ottilie close behind her as she runs up to the second floor. Just as she feared, the skylight is wide open.
Emilia wants to cry. ‘But I checked it so many times. I …’ She can feel the blood draining from her face.
Ottilie places a reassuring hand on her arm. ‘There’s got to be an explanation.’