Chapter 16: Elliot - The Foster Child

I’m on tenterhooks all day wondering if another Christmas card is going to be delivered here or at home. Cora and I never open each other’s post so I know she will leave it for me if one does arrive, but she will probably want to know who it’s from and expect me to put it up. And what if it isn’t addressed to any of us so she opens it thinking it’s for her? I will have to tell her that I’ve already received two cards and that I’ve no idea who is sending them to me or why. She’ll be worried sick and will want to go to the police. Maybe I should do that, after all it’s a clear threat. A threat of harm on Christmas Day. Why? Who?

As I drive home I make a decision, one or both of us is in danger and I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to Cora. If there is another card I have to go to the police.

It’s with some trepidation I check the post box when I arrive home. To my relief it’s empty. Or Cora has got to the post before me, although I’m sure she would have messaged me if she’d opened one of those cards. I had a card on Friday and one on Tuesday, and I wonder if this is going to be a regular pattern or if they’re going to be sent sporadically to keep me in a state of anxiety.

‘Only me!’ I call as I step in through the connecting door from the garage, expecting to see Cora in the kitchen.

There’s no sign of Cora. She must be upstairs getting changed. I pause as I glance over at the window. What’s happened to her orchid?

‘Cora!’ I call as I go upstairs. She comes out of the bedroom, rubbing her hair dry.

‘Hiya.’

We embrace and kiss. ‘You remembered that we’re going out?’ she asks.

‘Sure. It won’t take me long to freshen up and change. Did we have any post by the way?’

‘Nope. Are you expecting something?’

‘Not especially, just asking.’ I go into the bedroom and take off my jacket. ‘Where have you moved your orchid to? I thought it looked pretty on the kitchen windowsill.’

‘I came home and found it lying in the sink. And the catch wasn’t quite locked on the window, as if someone had opened it and not closed it properly.’ She glances questioningly at me. ‘I wondered if it was you, maybe letting a fly out or something?’

Unease stirs in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t touched the window but I can see the anxiety in her eyes and I find myself saying, ‘Yes, it was. I was in such a rush I didn’t realise I’d caught the orchid. I’m sorry, is it ruined?’

The relief on her face is worth the white lie. ‘I think I can rescue it. I’ve put it in the utility room for a while.’

‘If you can’t, I’ll buy you another one,’ I promise. I kiss her on the cheek. ‘I’ll nip in the shower. Won’t be long.’

I’d rather not go out, if I’m honest. I’m unsettled about the cards and now the orchid. Much as I’m trying to convince myself that the cards are a sick hoax and that Cora mustn’t have closed the window properly, I can’t help feeling jittery that someone might have been in our house and am worried what we’ll come back to if we go out. Even without that worry it wouldn’t be my choice to go out. I’ve kept to myself since I moved in, a village like this can be a bit of goldfish bowl. Everyone knows everyone’s business and there can be a lot of gossip. But I know that Cora likes to socialise, and Gabby has been a good friend to her so I agree. I guess it’s time I integrated in the village a bit more.

I dress casually in jeans and a chunky jumper, Timberland boots and a sheepskin jacket. Cora has kept it casual too, settling for jeans, a white top, boots and her black donkey jacket but still looking very sexy.

‘Will I do?’ she asks, giving a little twirl.

‘Always,’ I tell her, kissing her on the cheek. She looks happy and I’m glad I’ve made the effort.

I go around double-checking that the windows and doors are locked then we set off.

* * *

Gabby and Scott are already there when we arrive at the pub. They’re both very friendly and Cora and Gabby share a bottle of wine while Scott and I plump for a pint. Scott works as a security guard and we all listen fascinated as he relates some incidents he’s been involved in.

‘I hold my hat off to you, it takes a brave person to do that job,’ I say admiringly.

‘Thanks. It has its moments,’ Scott says, taking a swig of his beer. ‘Gabby tells me that you’re a dentist. I’m impressed.’

I shrug nonchalantly. ‘It’s something I’ve wanted to do since I was at school.’

‘Do you get people asking you to check their teeth when they find out what you do?’ Gabby asks.

‘All the time. So don’t spread it around,’ I reply with a mock-groan.

The conversation then turns to holidays and we’re soon swapping stories of places we’ve been to.

‘Dale and I did the usual package holidays when Lori was young, and since the divorce me and Lori have been on a couple of “girly holidays” but nowhere exotic,’ Cora says.

Gabby and Scott are more well-travelled, having been to Australia and America. Cora looks surprised when I tell them I’ve been to Vietnam, Thailand and China. I realise that we’ve never talked about stuff like this and there is actually still a lot we don’t know about each other.

‘You’re quite a traveller then, Elliot,’ Gabby says as she tops up our wine glasses. ‘Did you do the package holiday thing?’

‘No, I went by myself. Selected the place I fancied going, booked the flight and hotel and set off,’ I tell her. It didn’t seem a big deal to me at the time, I had no one I wanted to travel with and I wanted to see the world.

‘I bet you did your research before you went. You don’t strike me as an impulsive person,’ Scott says, his slate grey eyes meeting mine. ‘Did you grow up in this area? You’ve got a bit of an accent, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

‘My early childhood was in Manchester but I moved away when I went to university,’ I tell him. ‘It’s great to be in a village like this, it’s so peaceful and I bet the crime rate is practically nil.’ I turn the conversation around, not wanting to talk about myself and hoping to find out if there have been any break-ins or vandalism in the village.

‘Yes, we don’t get a lot of trouble. Although some of the teenagers loiter around a bit, and we’ve had couple of cars stolen over the years,’ Scott replies.

‘What about burglaries?’ I ask. ‘It’s the kind of place that might be targeted. I was wondering whether to get some extra security at the cottage.’

‘Were you? Is this because of the dog trampling on our plants?’ Cora asks.

‘What’s this?’ Gabby asks, so we tell her all about it.

‘I’d definitely get a doorbell camera. We’ve got one,’ Scott says. ‘If you ever want advice on more security, feel free to let me know and I’ll drop around to have a chat with you about it.’

‘You’ve been here eight years, haven’t you, Elliot? Have you never thought of getting some sort of security before?’ Gabby asks.

Good point. I don’t want this to look suspicious or alarm Cora. I lift my glass and take a long sip of my beer while I consider my answer. ‘I know, crazy, isn’t it? I guess I was so busy working and doing the place up that it didn’t occur to me.’

‘Most people often don’t think about it until something happens. The incident with the dog has probably triggered it with you,’ Scott says. ‘I’m security conscious because of my job.’

He seems an okay bloke. I wish I could confide in him about the Christmas cards. And the orchid. But I don’t want anyone to know about my past, that would ruin everything.

Cora and Gabby start talking about their Christmas plans now and I join in, glad to change the conversation but decide to talk to Scott about getting some security at the cottage when I get a chance to speak to him by myself.

It’s a pleasant evening. We walk part of the way home together, turning down Scott’s invitation to come in for a tot. I’m anxious to get home and make sure nothing else has happened.

I put my key in the lock to open the front door when Cora exclaims, ‘Oh, Elliot, you’ve left a cigarette stub on the doorstep.’

I look down at it. It isn’t mine. I never smoke out here, only in the back garden.

‘Sorry, I’ll dump it,’ I say, picking it up.

Cora carries on in and I look at that cigarette stub. It’s a roll-up.

I never smoke them.

Someone has been standing right here, on my doorstep, smoking. And they want me to know it.