I freeze when one of them moves.
And then I scream, because the white face in the window is real. Someone is outside and they are staring right at me.
Adam
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, running into the kitchen.
I heard something smash before Amelia started screaming, and I can see that she has dropped the bottle of red wine. There are pieces of glass all over the stone floor, and I grab Bob’s collar to stop him from walking on them. ‘What happened? Are you OK?’
‘No. There’s someone outside!’
‘What? Where?’
‘The window,’ she says, pointing.
I walk over and peer out into the darkness. ‘I can’t see anything—’
‘Well, they’ve gone now. They ran as soon as I screamed,’ she says, and starts to pick up the broken pieces of glass.
‘I’ll go outside, take a look.’
‘No! Are you crazy? We’re in the middle of nowhere, who knows who could be out there? Shit!’
She’s cut her finger on a sharp piece of bottle, and the sight of blood makes me queasy. I can write about all kinds of horrific things for the screen, but when it comes to real life, I’m a wuss.
‘Here,’ I say, handing her a clean hanky.
I wrap my arms around Amelia and hold her tight, close enough to smell her hair. The familiar scent of shampoo stirs memories of happier times. I can’t see a beautiful face, but I’ve always felt as though I have an instinct for inner beauty. When I think about the night we first met, I can still remember everything about her with such clarity, and how I wanted, needed, to know her better. I’ve always trusted my gut when it comes to people and I’m rarely wrong. I can tell whether someone is good or bad within a couple of minutes of meeting them, and time and life tend to prove me right. Almost always.
‘I’ll clean that up,’ I say, stepping away and finding a dustpan and brush in the first cupboard I open.
‘How did you know that was in there?’ she asks, and I hesitate before answering.
‘Lucky guess, I suppose. Are you OK? Do you need your inhaler?’
Amelia has asthma, and sometimes the strangest things can trigger an attack. She once had her eye on a pink coat in a shop window for months. Squirrelled away her money to save up for it. Bought it, wore it one time, and when it was reduced to half price the very next day, she literally had a fit. Amelia has always been someone to count pennies, even though she no longer needs to.
‘I really wanted this weekend to be perfect,’ she says, sounding like she might cry. ‘It already feels like nothing is going according to plan—’
‘Look, this place is a bit creepy, we’ve had some wine, and we’re both tired. Do you think maybe you imagined it?’
I used the tone I reserve for small children, or high-maintenance authors who don’t love the screenplays of their books, but I can tell it wasn’t the right thing to do even before she erupts.
‘No, I didn’t bloody imagine it. There. Was. A. Face. In the window outside, looking right at me.’
‘OK, I’m sorry!’ I say, tipping the broken glass in the bin. ‘What did they look like?’
‘It was a face!’
‘A man? A woman?’
‘I don’t know, it all happened too fast… I told you, as soon as I screamed, they ran.’
‘Maybe it was the mysterious housekeeper?’ Amelia stares at me but doesn’t answer. ‘What?’
‘Perhaps we should call the housekeeper and tell them that someone is outside?’
‘What do you think they’re going to do about it?’ I say, but she isn’t listening, and is already searching for her phone.
‘Great,’ she says, finding it.
‘No signal?’
‘Not even one bar.’
Bob, seemingly bored of our exchange, has wandered out of the kitchen and down the corridor towards the boot room where we came in. We only notice that he’s gone when he starts to growl at the old wooden chapel doors, teeth bared, hackles raised. It’s the third time our old dog has done something completely out of character since we arrived.
‘That’s it. I’m going outside to take a look,’ I say, pulling on my coat.
‘Please don’t go out there,’ Amelia whispers, as though someone might be able to hear us.
‘Don’t be daft,’ I tell her, attaching the dog’s lead to his collar. ‘I’ve got Bob for protection. Haven’t I, boy?’
Bob stops growling and wags his tail at the sound of his own name.