Chapter 35: Cora - The Foster Child

Elliot is at work this Saturday so I have a long chat with Molly, then call Mum and Dad for a quick catch-up, they both sound very cheery and Mum tells me that some friends are visiting this afternoon and she’s making a cake in preparation. I phone Lori next, I haven’t heard from her for a few days and am getting a bit worried about her, especially after the last call when she didn’t use video and cut it short when Jacob came in. She doesn’t answer, so I leave her a message asking her to get back to me so that we can discuss Christmas plans. I don’t even know what day her and Jacob intend to arrive yet.

I catch up on some jobs in the house then wrap up warm and go outside to do a bit of weeding, slipping my phone in my coat pocket in case Lori phones me back. I don’t want to miss her call. The garden is still looking a bit scraggy after the dog dug up the plants, although I did my best to tidy it up. Another month or so and we’ll be able to plant some spring bulbs, pretty the garden up for the summer.

I go back inside to make myself a hot drink then take it out with me and sit on the bench, planning how I’d like the garden to look. It’s pretty now, but I’d love a swing seat and some nice garden furniture. We could have some colourful flower borders too.

Providing we can find out who’s behind all the vandalism. It’s pointless doing anything until then, it will only be ruined.

I finish my drink and put the cup on the table, ready to start weeding again, when I get an uncomfortable prickle at the back of my neck, a sensation that someone is watching me. I turn around slowly, half expecting someone to be standing there but the garden is empty. I shiver, wrapping my arms around my shoulders. It was such a strong feeling. I don’t want to be out here any longer, I don’t feel safe. Get a grip, Cora. You’re letting your imagination run away with you. No one is there.

I walk slowly around to the front of the house, scanning the garden. Then as I turn the corner I see the front gate swinging. What’s that doing open? Elliot always leans over and bolts it when he goes out. I shiver and look around. Has someone sneaked into the garden? I turn around, my eyes darting everywhere. Then I hear the gate click and spin around again. The gate is now closed. Someone was in the garden. I race to the gate and jerk it open, frantically looking up and down the street. There’s no one in sight.

I heard the gate click. I know I did. Someone came in.

I close the gate and fasten the bolt. We need to get a more secure lock than this. The gate is chest high but all anyone has to do is lean over the top and they can unbolt it. The security at this cottage is almost non-existent. Which just goes to prove that Elliot didn’t feel he needed it. Everything that’s happened has been since I moved in. Which makes me think it must be connected to me in some way. Someone I know must be responsible.

I walk back over to the house and around the back, picking up my cup, I go inside, lock the back door and go into the kitchen.

I can hear water running. It’s the kitchen tap! I dash over to it and turn it off, my heart pounding. I turned the tap on to fill up the kettle and make myself a drink but I turned it off again. I’m sure I did.

I turn off the tap and look around the kitchen. Nothing seems to be disturbed. I grab the rolling pin out of the baking cupboard and grip it tight as I walk out into the hall and check that the front door is still locked. It is. If anyone had come in it would have to be through the back and surely I would have seen them?

It’s a huge garden though, and I was weeding up the top of it.

I check upstairs, my heart beating a drum in my chest, but thankfully everything is in order. I go back down, make a chamomile tea and sit at the table, my hands shaking as I sip it. I’m clearly overreacting but who could blame me after everything that’s happened. I hate the way that all this makes me feel unsafe in my own home.

That bolt isn’t enough to keep people out. We need a padlock for the gate, then I’ll feel safer. I glance at the clock. Elliot should be home soon. I’ll text him and ask him to get a padlock on the way home. Gabby and Scott have asked us to join them for a drink tonight and I was looking forward to it, but now I’m nervous at leaving the house, worrying that something is going to happen while we’re out. I think of that hacked-up wreath and start to tremble. It’s all so horrible.

Pull yourself together, it’s probably Caleb. He’s just a kid and you and Elliot can deal with him. You’ve got the doorbell camera too. That will show if he comes to the front of the house.

Maybe we should get one for the back door too. I’ll talk to Elliot about it.

I send the text then lock the back door, sliding the bolt across, and go to the front door and slide the bolt across that too. Now no one can possibly get in. I go upstairs to have a shower and get changed.

Elliot still hasn’t replied to my text. There’s only a couple of weeks before Christmas so I guess the dental surgery is busy, people wanting to get their teeth fixed before the Christmas parties etc.

When Elliot finally comes home he looks really flustered.

‘Busy day?’ I ask, going towards him for a hug.

‘Insane.’ He steps back a little. ‘Let me jump in the shower, I’m too sweaty to hug right now.’

Too sweaty? He’s a dentist, and it’s December, how can he possibly work up a sweat? But there is sweat on his brow, I notice, and his shirt is a bit damp too. I hope he’s not sickening for something.

‘Okay. You go jump in the shower and I’ll make us a sandwich.’

‘Thanks.’ He’s off up the stairs before I can say anything else. I wonder if everything that’s been happening is affecting him more than he’s letting on. After all, he had a nice quiet orderly life until I moved in. And now it’s one drama after another.

* * *

Elliot seems really distracted while we’re having lunch.

‘Everything okay?’ I ask him. ‘You seem troubled.’

‘Sorry, yes, just got a lot on my mind.’ He smiles at me. ‘How’s your day been? I bet you were glad to have a day off and the chance to relax a bit. I know you’ve got a lot going on too. It must be hectic at school at this time of year.’

I love that he considers my job too. Dale always thought his work was far more important, as far as he was concerned I worked part-time.

‘It is.’ Then I remember the padlock. ‘Did you get the lock for the gate? I sent you a text about it.’

‘Did you?’ He takes his phone out of his pocket and I notice that his knuckles are bruised and swollen. How has he done that?

‘Sorry, I haven’t checked my phone all day. Do you really think we need one? We have the bolt.’ Then he sees me staring at his bruised right hand and rubs it self-consciously. ‘I tripped coming out of the surgery and put my hand out to try and stop myself hitting the ground and fell on it awkward.’

‘It looks sore. Are you sure you haven’t broken anything?’

‘No, it’s fine, just a bit tender.’ He puts his phone down. ‘Has anything else happened today? Is that why you wanted the lock?’

‘Nothing’s happened but I felt a bit uneasy when I was out in the garden, as if someone was watching me. And then I thought I heard the gate click. Knowing that we can padlock the gate with a key and no one else can open it will make me feel a lot safer. And when I came into the kitchen the tap was running. I was sure I’d turned it off.’ I rub my cheek. ‘I feel like I’m living on my nerves a bit, all this stuff that keeps happening.’

He nods. ‘I can understand that. I’ll pick one up next time I’m out, but we do have the doorcam and that should let us know if anyone is near the house.’

‘It did warn me when Violet came by,’ I remember. Maybe I am over-worrying.

‘Have you remembered that we’re going out for a drink with Gabby and Scott tonight?’ I ask. ‘I can cancel if you don’t feel like it,’ I add. He does look out of sorts and I don’t really fancy it now.

He looks thoughtful. ‘I think I’d prefer to be at home this evening, if that’s okay with you? Let’s have a takeaway and watch a film instead.’

‘That sounds good, I’ll message Gabby and let her know. We can join them another time.’

* * *