Home > The Perfect Guests(48)

The Perfect Guests(48)
Author: Emma Rous

   On the top step, Leonora shakes her head, but her expression is fearful.

   The skinny man pipes up. “Wait. I felt sick this evening. Several of us did, didn’t we?” He calls out to the old man sitting on the steps. “You did too, didn’t you, Dad? And you said you felt really tired, like you’d been drugged or something.”

   Nazleen says, “Yeah, me too. I felt nauseated, and then dizzy, like I couldn’t think straight.”

   At my side, Sadie nods. “Me too. And I don’t think it’s worn off yet. My head still feels hollow. And, Joe, didn’t you say—?”

   Jonas shuffles his feet. “Yeah, I haven’t been feeling that great either.”

   As we lift our gazes back to Leonora, she lurches toward the open door.

   “Stop her!” I shout.

   The skinny man throws himself in front of her, blocking her retreat into the house.

   “Well done, Zach,” Nazleen says.

   Leonora pokes the man called Zach in the chest. “Let me pass.” Her voice trembles. “This is my house . . .”

   I move up the steps behind her. “You say that, Leonora, but it’s not true, is it? This was never really your house.”

   She turns to glare at me. “How dare you! I took you in, when you had nobody. I was only ever kind to you . . .”

   “You made me lie,” I say. “You made me pretend to be Nina. You poisoned your own daughter. You started that fire in my bedroom . . . Why? It was all to do with the house, I know, but why . . . ?”

   Leonora presses her lips together and shakes her head.

   “Okay,” Jonas says cautiously. “Look, we need to get the police out here. You lot go back inside. I’ll grab a torch and run to the village.”

   Nazleen crosses her arms. “There’s no way I’m sitting in a room with her.” She jerks her chin at Leonora. “Not if she just tried to kill us.”

   “How about,” Sadie says, “we lock her in the study? There’s a key in the door. Can we get on with it? I’m freezing.”

   Zach stands aside, and Leonora casts a disdainful look over us all.

   “Oh, for goodness’ sake,” she says, but she marches into the house and shuts herself in the study without another word. Zach marches to the door and turns the key. Jonas retrieves a torch from the hall table, but he pauses on the top step next to me as he comes out again.

   “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He searches my gaze. “It really is good to see you again, you know.”

   For a moment, despite my exhaustion, I consider offering to go with him. Anything to avoid setting foot in Raven Hall again. But the sight of Sadie’s shivering figure stops me. She needs me to stay here with her; I’m not leaving her again.

   I nod at Jonas. “Just hurry.”

   He sets off down the driveway at a jog, quickly swallowed by the darkness, only the bouncing beam of his torch showing his progress as he heads toward the road.

   The old man, who up until now hasn’t said a word, hauls himself up from his position on the steps, and he shuffles toward us with a sour expression.

   “Come on, then. Let’s get back inside,” he says. “One of you girls put the kettle on, will you? I’m frozen half to death here. This bloody house.”

 

 

Sadie


   The interior of the house is chilly, the air tainted with lingering, acrid smoke. When Sadie thinks of how warm and welcoming the place felt on her arrival, mere hours ago, it makes her feel off-balance. Let alone the discovery that her mother used to live here with Mrs. Shrew, of all people, who apparently tried to burn them in their beds tonight. Sadie has a thousand questions churning in her mind, and no idea where to start.

   She glances at her mother, sensing this isn’t the best time to ask her for more information. Beth is pale, wide-eyed; she stands just inside the threshold and wraps her arms around herself as her gaze jumps around the dimly lit hall. The other guests have gone straight through to the drawing room, and Sadie can hear Nazleen and Zach arguing over whether to light a fire in the grate. A moment later, Nazleen reappears in the hall, closing the drawing room door softly behind her.

   “Zach’s lighting a fire,” she says with an artificial brightness. “I’ll make some tea.” Her gaze comes to rest on Beth’s hands, and she frowns. “Are you hurt?”

   Beth holds her hands out in front of her and stares at her bleeding knuckles as if they’re not hers. “I was knocking on the windows so hard . . .”

   Nazleen’s tone softens. “Go and sit down. I’m sure Joe won’t be long. We’ll be out of here soon.”

   Beth doesn’t reply. Nazleen hurries off in the direction of the kitchen, and as soon as she’s gone, Beth turns to Sadie.

   “I’ve got to talk to Leonora. I need to know why she did it, why she brought you here. Honestly, Sadie, if I’d had any idea . . .”

   “I know, Mum.” Sadie gives Beth’s hand a gentle squeeze, taking care not to hurt her. “Okay, let’s do it. We’ll go and talk to her together.”

   But Beth still doesn’t move, and Sadie feels a familiar stir of frustration. This is what she remembers, growing up: this closed, fearful expression on her mum’s face. At the first mention of the past—or any other emotionally difficult topic—Beth would retreat into herself, refuse to engage.

   With effort, Sadie keeps her voice gentle. “You can’t run away from things forever, Mum . . .”

   “I know.” Beth nods tightly. “You’re right.” But she trudges toward the study as if she’s been summoned there, as if it weren’t her own idea at all.

   Beth unlocks the door and walks in. Sadie hangs back in the doorway, watching Beth approach the green-topped desk. Leonora sits on the far side of it, her expression one of haughty contempt.

   “What do you want?” Leonora snaps.

   Beth’s voice is strained. “Why did you bring my daughter here? I know you blame me for what happened, but to take it out on my daughter . . .”

   Sadie frowns. What’s this about blame? What did her mother do here, all those years ago?

   “I’ve already told you.” Leonora’s reply is icy. “I didn’t know she was your daughter until just now.”

   Beth draws in a shaky breath. “What happened to Markus . . . It wasn’t my fault . . .”

   A loud bang in the hall sends Sadie spinning around, heart pounding. Someone’s knocking at the front door, but it’s too soon to be Joe returning with the police, surely? She glances back at Beth and Leonora, but they both seem as startled as she is. Nazleen is still in the kitchen, and the drawing room door is closed, so when the door knocker crashes again, Sadie hurries to answer it.

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