Page 76 of The Quiet Tenant

CHAPTER 50

Number five

It didn’t go the way he wanted.

He was always going to do it, but not so soon.

Something happened. I was too fast for him, too slippery. It scared him.

He only meant for me to calm down, but he went too far.

He had done it before. For sure.

The only reason I almost got away was that I knew the woods better than he did. My theory: he had to change his turf every once in a while. If he didn’t, people might see him. They might start recognizing him.

He knew the area. That, he told me. But he didn’t know these specific woods and the specific bend at the end of the road and the dip in the ground that looked like a ditch but was actually just a dip.

A dip that could serve as a shortcut if you were trying to run.

So I ran. Just for a minute or so. I saw the light. I saw life, or the possibility of it.

And then he caught me.

He was out of breath, his eyes like they would never focus again. Looking everywhere. Straight from the beginning to the end of me.

He was angry. And he was terrified.

I suppose it had gone better with the others.

Before he did it, he told me his wife was sick.

I told him I was sorry.

Don’t be, he told me. The doctors say she’s going to be fine.

CHAPTER 51

Emily

I lie in bed and queue up an old Belle & Sebastian album, search for the girl in me. The one who believed in love and friendship. Who waited, faithfully, for someone to unlock the remote corners of her heart.

Stuart Murdoch barely gets through the first sentence of the chorus before I make him stop.

My hand falls back on the comforter. I wish I could fall asleep. But there’s a current pulsing through me. The impulse, directionless but pressing, to do something.

Anything.

I get up. My eyeballs are dry, gummy. The skin on my hands is rough. Today is Monday, a rare day off. I check the time on my phone. It’s one in the afternoon.

I want to see him.

No. This isn’t want. This is need.

I need to see him.

I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried giving him space. I’ve tried forgetting. I’ve tried trusting that he’ll come back to me. I’ve tried convincing myself that maybe, when he’s done hibernating, I could be his friend.

It hasn’t worked.

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