Page 49 of We Live Here Now

“Try to help her enjoy the house. She’s had a life-changing experience and it’s quite natural that her mind is constantly in fight-or-flight mode. She’s simply turned that toward the house, mistrusting it as a safe place. Self-preservation really.”

“Thank you again, Dr. Canning. And sorry to have taken up so much of your time. Again. I just—I was so close to losing her.”

“It’s perfectly understandable. And I’m glad you called. But try not to worry too much. She’s a strong woman.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Outside, the sky hangs heavy, pregnant with the threat of snow, and staring through the glass, I get lost in the grayness of it. What am I doing? Why is the thought of the life insurance payout constantly needling my brain? Emily isn’t going to kill herself. I’m not going to get that money. Why am I making her sound more unhinged than she is?

But what if she did?the bees buzz at me.Or what if it looked like she did? No more smugness. No more holier-than-thou attitude. No more Mrs. Always Right. Just a big, fat check and no more debts.

Do I really think those things of Emily? Sometimes she can be odd, sure, but not all the time. Not most of the time. Do I really want her gone? I want to be free of my own worries. I don’t want someone coming to putmein the hospital. But that doesn’t mean I want Emily dead. Does it? My head is throbbing again. I’m so confused.

I need to get back to the house. Everything feels clearer back in the house.

63

Emily

“Hello again, Fortuna.”

The old lady’s in the same chair as before, a cup of tea beside her, but this time with a thick blanket over her knees. She looks like she’s lost a little weight. More fragile than on my last visit. “Do you remember me? I live up at Larkin Lodge.”

“I remember.” Her eyes dart my way, narrow and suspicious. “The woman I don’t know.”

“I brought you some chocolates.” I hold up a box I picked up at the local shop on my way. “Thought you might like them.”

She doesn’t thank me but nods slightly, still suspicious but appeased, and I peel off the cellophane and open them for her, putting them next to her tea.

“You know, I heard a funny story the other day about when you lived in Larkin Lodge. From a woman who played there when she was a little girl.” I smile, I hope in a kindly way. “It was about your husband, Gerald. Something she thought she saw on the top floor. She was hiding in a cupboard there.”

Her eyes flash at me, sharp. “Doesn’t matter what she saw; he’s dead now. He can’t come back.” Her sudden staccato words are tiny dry twigs snapping. A voice left too long unused. My heart beats faster.

“He died of cancer, didn’t he? How awful.”

Her eyes drift out to the garden and she lets out a sigh. “We were happy after I killed him. My beautiful Gerald.” Her eyes glisten as I stare at her while she stares out into the past.

We were happy after I killed him.

My head spins with a sudden thought, crazier than the house being haunted. Is it possible that something in that room upstairs brings people—anything dead—that’s put inside it back to life? That raven, so alive this morning,wasthe one I saw dead, I’m sure of it. But if the dead come back to life, then there can’t be any ghosts. What’s been trying to send me messages in the house if there are no ghosts?

Find it.

Fortuna takes a chocolate and chews it slowly, lost in her own thoughts of the past. I lean forward, closer to her, as if I’m about to whisper a secret.

“When I was last here,” I say gently, “you said you found it but you put it back. You didn’t use it. What did you find? Is it something in Larkin Lodge?”

“The book, of course.” She looks at me as if I’m stupid. “What else would I be talking about?”

“Of course. The book.” I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I play along. “You didn’t use it.”

“I found it when we were moving.” She gives me a sly grin, little rivulets of chocolate-tinged saliva in the deep wrinkles around her mouth. “I didn’t use it. Too late now.”

The door opens and a nurse bustles in. “I’m sorry to cut your visit short, but we’ve got doctor’s rounds today.”

I almost ask for five more minutes, but Fortuna cuts in.

“She’s leaving now.” Her expression hardens as if she realizes I’ve gleaned precious information from her. “She won’t be coming back.”

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