‘If it is a woman,’ I say, ‘then maybe I should try talking to her. I don’t see any other buildings nearby, she might be the only one who can help us.’
‘What if she doesn’t want to help us?’ Adam whispers.
I’m already freezing, but I feel colder than I did before when he says that. I think about the October O’Brien newspaper clippings he found stuffed inside one of the kitchen drawers at the chapel and I feel sick. It’s such a long time ago now, but Adam worked with the actress before what happened, happened, and I sometimes still wonder—
‘Do you think she might be who you saw outside the window last night?’ he whispers.
I shrug and it turns into a shiver. Relieved a little that at least he believes me about that now. ‘I don’t know. Do you?’
‘How would I know? I didn’t see what you saw, and we both know I wouldn’t be able to recognise them again even if I did.’
‘Well, was the person you saw just now fat or thin? Old or young?’
‘Medium build, I guess, and she had long grey hair.’
‘So, old then?’
‘Maybe.’
‘I wonder if she is the housekeeper?’
‘If she is, she’s a bad one.’
‘Someone wrote those notes for us to find,’ I remind him.
‘Don’t housekeepers clean things? From what I saw through the window, she doesn’t look like she knows how to use a feather duster. She may have a broom… for flying around at night—’
‘This isn’t the time for making jokes.’
‘Who says I’m joking? You didn’t see what I saw with all the candles and the white rabbit on her lap, like she was casting a spell. We’ve got enough problems right now without upsetting the local witch.’
Sometimes having an overactive imagination is a curse. I take out my mobile and hold it up to see that I still don’t have any signal. Adam watches, then does the same with his.
‘Anything?’ I ask, looking over his shoulder. But he shakes his head, and puts his phone back in his pocket before I see the screen.
‘Not even one bar. Why don’t we climb to the top of that hill, I think I can see a footpath,’ he says, pointing at what looks like a small mountain to me. ‘One of us might get a signal up there, and if not, at least we’ll have a view of the whole valley. If there are any other houses, or people, or even a busy road where we could flag someone down, we’ll be able to see it.’
It’s not a completely crazy idea.
‘OK. That sounds like a good plan. I’m still going to write a quick note though, just in case.’
I reach inside my handbag for a pen, and find an old envelope to scribble on.
Sorry to disturb you, we didn’t mean to intrude. We are staying at Blackwater Chapel. There is no phone at the property, and no power due to the storm, no water thanks to frozen pipes, and no mobile signal. If you have a phone we could borrow, we’d really appreciate it and promise to reimburse you for the call. We’ve lost our dog. If you see him, his name is Bob and we’re offering a generous reward for his safe return.
Many thanks,
Amelia
I show the note to Adam.
‘Why did you add that bit about the reward?’
‘Just in case she is a witch and wants to turn Bob into a rabbit too,’ I whisper, before trying to push the note through the letterbox. It seems to be sealed up, so I slide the envelope beneath the door instead. I hear a noise then, and take a quick step back. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
‘What’s the hurry?’ Adam asks.
I watch as he salutes a blackbird, just in case it’s a magpie. It’s one of his many superstitious habits that often make me love and loathe him at the same time. The idea that failing to salute a magpie will result in bad luck waiting for you around the next corner is a myth my logical mind has never believed in. But he does. Because his mother did. Given our current circumstances, maybe I should start saluting too.
‘I heard something,’ I whisper, when we are a little further away. ‘I think she was on the other side of the door the whole time we were standing there talking. Which means she heard every word.’
Robin
Robin did hear every word.
She reads the note that the woman pushed under the door, then screws it up into a ball before throwing it on the fire.
Robin isn’t a witch – not that she cares what they think – but has frankly been called far worse. So what if she doesn’t keep the cottage spotlessly clean? It’s her home and how she chooses to live is her business. Some people think money is the answer to all of life’s problems, but they’re wrong, sometimes money is the cause of them. Some people think money can buy love, or happiness, or even other people. But Robin won’t be bought. Everything she has now is hers. She earned it, or found it, or made it all by herself. She doesn’t need or want anyone else’s money or things or opinions. Robin can take care of Robin. Besides, this cottage might not look like much, but it was somewhere she used to run away to as a child. Just like her mother before her. Sometimes home is more of a memory than a place.