Chapter 14: NOW - The Safe Room

Another bing bong echoes around the house. I grab my phone to check the doorbell app. Perhaps I ordered something online and forgot about it, though that doesn’t sound like me. I don’t even like getting deliveries because of how it interrupts the peace and calm here.

There’s a woman standing at the gate in a raincoat and gloves. I see her straight nose and flushed cheeks on the pixelated screen. Blonde locks peek out from her hood. It could be the woman from the house across the street. I tap the microphone icon to speak to her.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Oh, hi. So sorry to bother you. I moved into the house down the road a few days ago. We’re having trouble with our electrics and we’re out of candles and matches. Could I borrow some if it’s not too much trouble?”

I hesitate. The snow is coming down thickly now and she keeps rubbing her gloved hands together as though she is freezing cold. I did want to get to know the new neighbours, and this seems as good an opportunity as any. But there’s something about the snowstorm that makes me feel like this is risky.

On the other hand, I’ve already overreacted to a non-threat today.

“Of course. I’ll let you in.”

“Thanks so much,” she says.

I open up the gates and watch her walk through, hugging her body, the baggy raincoat bunching up at the waist. She has to be the woman I saw on the security camera. She’s about the right build and age with blonde hair. I push down my worries and head to the door to let her in.

A gust of ice-cold breeze wafts into the house, scented with pine, when I open the door. The woman hurries in, stamping her feet on the doormat to shed snow from her boots.

“It’s really coming down out there,” she says. “We were lucky to move in right before it started.” She pulls off her boots and then reaches out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Emily.”

I take her hand. “Amber.”

She’s young, no more than thirty, with golden blonde hair tied back in a bun, and freckles across her nose. It’s the freckles that give her a more youthful appearance. She may even be older than thirty, or as young as twenty-five.

“Come in,” I say, realising I’ve been standing awkwardly in the corridor for too long. “I think I have some candles in here somewhere. That’s the only thing about being out in the sticks, we do get the occasional power cut.”

“Yeah, plus Steve keeps fiddling with the wiring. He thinks he’s an electrician.” She lets out a nervous giggle and holds herself tighter.

“Do you want a cup of tea to warm you up?” I offer.

“Sure. But I can’t stay long. I told Steve I was just popping out.” Her smile is fleeting and her eyes remain flat. That’s what’s missing from her pretty face, eyes that sparkle.

A thought flashes through my mind: why is she so worried about getting back quickly to her husband? It seems like a red flag to me, but I know I am a paranoid person, so I dismiss it.

“Shall I hang your coat up for a minute?” I ask. “Let it dry out a bit.”

She shrugs it from her body, and I hang it over the door. “So you guys bought the house down the road?”

She nods, almost shyly.

For the first time I wonder if Emily might be someone I can spend time with. Aside from Yvonne and some of the mums at Sophie’s school, there aren’t many people on my wavelength in Eel Beck. Carrie is in her sixties, and we don’t have much in common.

“How are you settling in? The unpacking is the worst part, isn’t it?” I move into the kitchen and fill the kettle.

Emily runs a finger over a chair before leaning against it, her body slightly twisted. “I think it’s all the worst part to be honest! But it’s beautiful here.” She walks over to the window to take in the view. “Especially in the snow.” She gasps. “You can see for miles out here, nothing but snow and trees and walls and… oh, it’s beautiful.” Her hand flies to her face and she regards me through low-lidded eyes. “Sorry. I’m hormonal. I found out I was pregnant last week.”

“Oh, wow, congratulations!” I lift my hands, not quite sure how to celebrate a stranger. “When are you due?”

“July.” She places one hand on her lower stomach.

“It’s going to be so lovely having a baby on the street.” The kettle begins to boil, and I grab two mugs and tea bags. “It’s mostly retired couples around here. There are a few families further up, but Sophie has always felt a bit lonely without another kid to play with.”

“Sophie?”

“My daughter. She’s seven.”

“Great age.” Emily smiles. “My niece just turned eight. She’s so cheeky now it’s hilarious. My sister has her hands full.”

I laugh and pour out the hot water. “Yes, cheeky is one way of putting it.”

“You and your husband are so lucky.”

“Actually, it’s just me. Ed… He passed away last year.”

Her hand flies up again. “I’m so sorry⁠—”

“It’s fine. We’re… well, grieving is a process but we’re doing okay. Milk?”

She nods.

As I head over to the refrigerator I see her turn towards the window again, taking in the view.

“There’s so much space for kids to run around here. We just moved up from London. Steve’s a software engineer. But he’s found a job in Harrogate now. It’s not as much money, but we had some savings and decided to go for it.”

“You can’t take it with you,” I say. “That’s what my dad always used to say.” Not that Dad had anything to take with him. But it was his motto every time the lottery came around, and he wanted to buy five tickets. He who dares… I feel a pang of regret hit my rib cage but push it away.

“Your dad’s a wise man.” Emily takes the steaming mug of tea and grins.

“Sit down if you’d like.” I gesture to the dining table and she grabs a chair.

I can’t help but notice how Emily’s body moves in spiked, jerky movements. She’s completely still for protracted moments and then moves quickly and rigidly. That and the flat expression in her eyes tell me that she holds some sort of anxiety in her body. I recognise aspects of myself in her.

“Actually, I’m glad you came, Emily, because there’s something I try to tell all of the neighbours about me. At least I tell the neighbours I want to be friendly with.” I wrap my fingers around the mug and let out a nervous chuckle.

“What is it?” She leans closer.

As succinctly as I can, I tell her about Peter and the way he has stalked me for almost two decades. I let her know about Sophie and how I’ve taught her to escape the house and run to safety if she needs to.

“It puts my mind at ease knowing there are people close by who will take her in no questions asked if… if anything were to happen to me.”

Emily lifts an eyebrow before placing down her mug. The silence stretches on as she processes my story.

“Sorry, I know this is intense and you’ve only just met me.” I clear my throat. “I’ll find those candles for you⁠—”

In another jerky motion her arm reaches out and grabs mine. “Thank you for telling me this, Amber. I want you to know that I’m here for you if you ever need it.” Her eyes suddenly fill with tears and she turns away.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“Yes. Sorry, yes, I’m fine. Told you, didn’t I? Hormonal.” She laughs.

“It’s a sad story, I know. And chances are I didn’t even need to say anything. We’ve lived here for five years, and I haven’t seen him in the area once.” I don’t tell her about him turning up to the hospital Ed died in, or the break-in at the library, or the man at the park. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’ll grab you those candles now. I have loads. I’m a bit of a prepper, I guess.” As I head over to the cupboard under the sink, I hear the sound of little footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Mummy!”

“Yes, sweetie?”

I have my back to the door when Sophie enters the room. She lets out a little gasp at seeing a stranger at the table, and then I feel her tapping me on the shoulder. I reach behind the sponges to grab a couple of taper candles.

“Mummy?”

“Yes, Sophie?” I emerge from the cupboard.

Sophie’s eyes move across to Emily.

“Hi,” Emily says. “I’m your new neighbour. It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. Your mum has just been telling me all about you and how you moved here.”

“I don’t remember that,” Sophie says shyly.

I stand. “That’s because you were two years old.” Then my attention is caught by the sight outside the window. “Oh, shit.”

“Mummy! You said a bad word.”

I pat Sophie idly on the head. “Yes, all right, I said a swear.” I turn to Emily. “It’s really coming down now. You’d best get back.”

Her eyes widen as she sees the blanket of white outside. “Wow, yes. I should. Thanks so much for the candles.”

I grab a box of matches from the drawer and hand the bundle to her. She throws them in a bag and grabs her coat, pulling it on frantically.

“Steve will be worrying about where I am. Thanks so much for the cup of tea.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Please be careful walking home. Here, do you want my number in case you slip and fall?”

“That would be great, actually.”

We swap phones and insert our numbers.

“Thanks so much for everything,” she says. “You’ll have to come over for a drink when we’re settled in.”

“I will.”

She waves once more before leaving, and a strange sense of foreboding washes over me. What is it about her? Why do I feel so oddly connected to her? Perhaps it’s the sadness in her expression, the jerky, anxious energy.

I open the security camera app and watch her trudge down the lane in the snow. Soon the white mass of sky swallows her whole so that she’s out of view.