If you have listened to this recording by the time we meet at The Hydes, I would ask you to show me a sign. There will be flowers in your room. Wear one to supper and we will understand each other. Until then: good luck, Harriet.
Oh, and a point of interest: my children no longer sleep in their childhood bedrooms. Those old rooms are kept just as they were. Eleanor wanted to have them cleared, but I like the memories. It might be worth taking a look if you’re interested. You can tell a lot about a person from the mess they leave behind.
39 The First Night
Friday 23 December
The tape clicks off. I fast-forward, hoping for more – more explanation, more anything – but there’s only the crackle of virgin tape. Robert is gone. That is all I get.
It’s clear I should have listened to the tape long ago. Before Krampusnacht, and well before I arrived here. Robert must have assumed I’d listen to it the day after he gave it to me. I would have had so much more time to try to decode it if I had, but life got in the way.
I rewind the tape and press play again, carefully recording Robert’s list of names onto my phone. I may have lost the whole first half of the cassette, but I still have the list of dead girls. It might just be enough to save me. Once the recording is finished, I email it to myself. It should be waiting on my laptop back at home. If anything were to happen to me out here, the trail is laid and it will lead straight back to Robert Holbeck.
Edward doesn’t get back to the room until after the tape player is finished and packed away, my work done.
He’s finalising things with Hong Kong, signing off on the little details still remaining. And he had a beer with Oliver. I smell the sweet hops on his breath.
‘What have you been up to?’ he asks.
I give him the same pregnancy excuse I gave his mother and his hand flies to my head solicitously to check my temperature.
‘I’m fine, Ed. It’s just been a long day.’
He holds my gaze as if to test the truth of my statement and, seemingly satisfied, removes his hand. ‘Well, luckily, we’re skipping the family dinner tonight. Dad’s in the middle of something.’
I stop breathing entirely, my eyes trained on Edward. ‘No family dinner?
‘Well, we’ll eat, just not altogether. God knows what he’s in the middle of. But we’ll see everyone at dinner tomorrow anyway. He can’t avoid Christmas entirely.’
‘You think he’s avoiding us?’ I ask, before I can stop myself. Edward seems surprised at the question.
‘No, of course not. Turn of phrase. But who knows? Who knows what goes on in his mind. He’d certainly never deign to tell us. But we’ll see him tomorrow for sure. We play a game on Christmas Eve. Family tradition. There are clues; you find presents. He wouldn’t miss that. But don’t worry, after what happened at Fiona and Oliver’s, no one’s going to expect you to take part in any of that.’
‘How come you didn’t tell me about it before?’
‘Because there’s no way I’m letting you do it, not after Krampus.’
‘Letting me?’ I enquire archly, though the sentiment is oddly comforting given everything going on right now. ‘Is it similar to the Krampus race?’ I ask, fully aware that I need to take part in that game willingly or this will never work. ‘I did okay in that, right?’
Edward looks amused. ‘Um, yeah, you did amazing, but, I mean, you hated it, right? No offence, honey, but I really don’t think this one is a good idea. I’ll be honest with you, it’s a really weird game. And, sure, there’s no monster chasing you in this one, but there is my family. Besides, no one is expecting you to do this. You’re pregnant. You can definitely sit it out.’