The Woman in the Woods

by Lisa Hall

  ‘I brought her over.’ Naomi appears behind Avó, looking fresh and perfect in a short linen dress, her hair tied back in a swishy ponytail, her lips painted a nude pink.

  ‘Yes, Naomi came to get me.’ Avó sighs, waddling over to the garden chairs and stiffly lowering herself into the nearest one. ‘Be a darling, get me some water, won’t you?’

  I move towards the open door into the kitchen, before I realize it isn’t me she’s talking to but Naomi. Naomi darts inside and Avó and I are alone.

  ‘Did Rav ask you to come over?’ I ask as she taps the seat of the chair next to her. Despite not wanting to sit, Avó is a woman who commands respect, so I sit.

  ‘I can come and see my own daughter-in-law, can’t I?’ She tuts. ‘You are always so touchy, Allie. Always asking why do you do this, why do you do that. I have come to make sure you are OK.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, but tears sting my eyes. ‘You have been speaking to Rav. It was just a nightmare, there’s nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Of course I have. He’s my son. When you are old, like me, you will speak to Mina and Leo often as well.’

  I think of my mother, never one for telephone conversations, unless she was calling to check on me to see where I was. As a teenager we never needed long telephone conversations, as she would never let me leave her for long enough to require it. Now, I wish she was here every day. I wish she didn’t hate Rav, I wish she could come for dinner, and ask for lifts, and spoil the children the way Avó does.

  ‘Yes, you’re right.’ The prickliness in me subsides and I attempt to change the subject. ‘Rav gave me the tea. Thank you for sending it over, it was very thoughtful of you.’ I don’t mention the sleepwalking. If Rav hasn’t told her everything, there’s no need for me to mention it.

  ‘Oh, that wasn’t really from me.’ Avó flaps a hand. ‘I got it from Naomi – she comes to visit me sometimes. I told her you weren’t sleeping so well and so she brought the tea the next time she came. She said I would probably see you before her, that she was working so hard in the shop without you there.’

  ‘Oh. Well, thank you anyway.’ My mind is whirring away nineteen to the dozen. Naomi gave her the tea. Gave ME the tea. Does Rav know it came from Naomi? I think of the exhaustion, the way it came on so quickly. Was it just tea? Or was there something else in it? The last time she made me tea, when I twisted my ankle, I had fallen asleep after drinking it. I swallow, suddenly feeling very hot.

  ‘Ravi just wants to do the best by you,’ Avó says, as I try to focus on what she is saying. ‘And for the children. The children are so important to him, but you must know this. He has everyone’s best interests at heart and what he is planning …’

  I switch on, her words snagging. ‘What he is planning?’ I hardly dare breathe as I wait for Avó to elaborate. I can’t believe he has told his mother what he plans to do – would he tell her? Perhaps she thinks I know; she doesn’t realize that I have been left in the dark.

  ‘Ahhh, here we are.’ Avó turns as Naomi appears with a jug of iced water and three glasses on a tray, a carton of juice for Mina on the side. She must have gone through every cupboard to find the jug; it was in a box in the pantry, still packed from when we moved in.

  ‘Here we go, ladies.’ She pours for each of us but as Avó gulps greedily, I leave my glass untouched.

  ‘You’re looking very smart for the shop, Naomi,’ I say. ‘Did you have an important meeting or something?’

  She colours, her cheeks a glowing shade of pink. ‘No, nothing like that. Just the flower market, and obviously it gets warm in the shop. This was the coolest outfit I had.’

  ‘Avó was just about to tell me about Rav’s plans,’ I say, keeping my face neutral. I give nothing away, as Naomi’s colour subsides, and she turns a watery pale. Avó is preoccupied, cooing over the doll Mina is showing her.

  ‘Oh?’ Naomi says. ‘That sounds intriguing. I love what you’ve done with the border, although I’m not sure that keeping that oleander is such a good idea. What if Mina or Leo get hold of it? It’s toxic, you know.’

  ‘I know. I shouldn’t be surprised that you know that too.’

  ‘You should plant the hibiscus,’ Avó butts in. ‘I miss the hibiscus. My mother used to grow it all over our garden in Margoa. Why don’t you plant that, Allie? Take that horrible white one out.’

  ‘Yes, Margoa,’ I say, without taking my eyes from Naomi’s face. ‘You must miss it Avó. I know I do. It would be lovely to take the children there for a long, extended holiday.’ Naomi stills, her glass halfway to her mouth. She only pauses for a matter of seconds, if that, but I see it. ‘Perhaps I should sort out a passport for Leo, if Rav could get the time off over the summer we could go back, stay a while, visit with the aunties and uncles.’

  Avó opens her mouth to speak, but Naomi jumps up, spilling water all across the garden table. ‘Oh shoot,’ she says. ‘Let me get a cloth and clean that up.’

  Mina giggles as water runs off the edge of the table, sitting beneath it so that it drips over her hair. I close my eyes, the image of her running across the lawn to the pond as vivid as it was last night. ‘Let me help you.’ I get up and follow Naomi into the kitchen.

  She is on her phone, texting madly as I walk into the cool air of the kitchen. ‘Texting Rav?’ I say casually.

  ‘What?’ Naomi looks up, her eyes wide. ‘No. Why would I be texting Rav?’ I have to hand it to her, she’s an excellent liar. ‘Allie, are you OK? You look like you’ve lost even more weight.’

  ‘Thanks for the tea,’ I say shortly. ‘So kind of you to make sure Avó gave it to me. It had the desired effect. I’d better get that water cleaned up.’ Something glints at her throat, and I lean in to get a closer look, reaching past her for a roll of kitchen towel. It’s a pearl. A single pearl in a simple gold setting, hanging on a slim gold chain around her neck. ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘What?’ Her hands go to her throat, her fist closing around the pearl. ‘It was a gift. My mother bought it for me, after my brother died. I’ve had it for years. Allie, I don’t know what is going on—’

  ‘I think you do,’ I hiss. ‘I think you do know. And I know, too. I know what you’ve been saying to Rav.’ I eye the necklace closely, wishing the pearl would scald her skin the way the ones I found scalded mine. ‘I won’t let you get away with this. Either of you. I think it’s best if you leave now, don’t you?’

  Naomi stands, her phone in her hands and her mouth open, as I breeze past her back out into the garden. As I swipe at the puddles on the glass table, I feel her behind me and almost flinch as her voice comes close to my ear.

  ‘Avó, do you mind if we leave? I just had a text from Evie to say the shop is getting busy and she can’t manage the orders alone. I really need to get back and help her.’

  I don’t look up, still dabbing at the water. The sun has gone in and there is a chilly wind now, the leaves of the trees rustling and swaying. Shivering, Avó gets to her feet, and Naomi holds out an arm for her to lean on.

  ‘Thank you for coming over, Avó, I’ll let Rav know you came.’ I lean down and kiss her wrinkled, raisin-like cheek. ‘Goodbye, Naomi.’ Mina fusses at my legs and I lift her into my arms so she can wave goodbye to her grandmother. As they reach the garden gate, my mother appears on the other side of the road, checking for traffic before she starts to cross. She raises her hand to me as Naomi lifts the latch on the gate to let Avó through, Naomi throwing a brief smile in my mother’s direction before she hurries Avó to the pavement.

  I stand at the garden gate, watching as she helps Avó into the car, before getting in herself and driving smoothly away. Avó looks back and waves, but Naomi keeps her eyes on the road.

  ‘Penny for it?’ My mother walks up the path to stand beside me before turning back, raising one hand to shield her eyes as she joins me in watching Naomi drive away.

  ‘It’s a penny for them,’ I say. She never could get her head around English idioms. ‘I though
t you’d left. I haven’t seen you.’

  ‘I’ve been busy, lots to do.’ She looks older today, her shoulders slightly bowed and thin lines radiating from her mouth that I haven’t noticed before. ‘Was that Avó with Naomi? It’s a shame I missed her; I would have liked to have seen her.’

  ‘You would?’ I frown. My mother never had time for Avó before.

  She shrugs, a familiar gesture. ‘It’s been a long time. It would have been nice to catch up. Maybe next time.’ She peers closely at me. ‘What about you? How are things? You don’t look so good.’

  I smooth down my hair, press a hand to my cheek. I don’t feel so good, either. I turn and lead her through the garden and into the house, waiting until she is seated at the table and Mina is preoccupied with the TV before I say, ‘I think Rav is going to take the children away.’

  Mum reaches for her cigarettes, runs one through her fingers as she eyes me closely. ‘Why do you think this?’

  ‘I found flight searches on his computer. A message thread on his phone to Naomi about me, and how he has sorted out passports. I think they’re planning it together.’ I blink back tears, still not wanting to cry in front of her, a hangover from my teenage years. Tears don’t get you sympathy with my mother. ‘Things have happened since you were here last …’ I explain about the toxic flowers left in the bedroom, the tea, how Rav had found me in the pond. How everything keeps coming back to me, and how I feel there is a connection between what is happening now and the past.

  She is quiet when I finish speaking, the only sound her nails tapping on the table. ‘This is not good,’ she says eventually. ‘They think you are crazy, no?’

  ‘I don’t know. I overheard them talking … they mentioned postpartum psychosis. I think they think that I have it … or some sort of postpartum depression anyway, and that I am a danger to the children,’ I say, a bloom of hurt bursting in my chest. ‘I think that Tara mentioned it to Naomi, and Naomi has told Rav that she thinks there is something wrong with me.’

  ‘What do you think?’ she says quietly, giving in and lighting the cigarette. I open the back door pointedly but she still sits at the table. ‘What do you think is going on?’

  ‘I think all of this is connected to Agnes Gowdie. She was a witch, she took children, hurt them maybe. And I think she is still here.’ My hands go to my arms and I rub at the skin there. I am so cold, all the time.

  ‘Still here?’

  ‘Yes. I think she is still here, and I think she is the one who is a danger to the children, not me.’ I tell my mother about Lillian Sparks, of how she was accused of smothering her child. Of how they took her away and didn’t believe her, even though Elsie tried to tell them. ‘I found her child’s rattle in the pond; I hear her crying for her mother at night. I see Agnes in the mirror. I’ve removed it, but I don’t know if that worked, I think she’s still here. I’m going to ask Miranda about a charm to go back under the floorboards, but I need Rav to believe me. I can’t let him take them away.’ I swallow back that hard lump in my throat. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mum.’

  ‘Do you want to bring these children up alone?’

  I shake my head. I don’t want my children to feel the way I did growing up, suffocated by a mother who couldn’t bear to be left alone. Who couldn’t bear to let go. I want things to be as they were, before – me, Rav and the children.

  ‘You have to show him that you aren’t crazy. You have to show him that it’s not your fault, what has happened.’

  Maybe she has a point. He won’t believe that Naomi has manipulated him – and me – if I tell him that straight out, he’ll just think I’m acting crazy again. Despite it all I love Rav, and if I can just show him that I am the Allie he knows, the Allie he met on the beach all those years ago, maybe I can fix this. I love my family. I don’t want to end up like my mother. ‘How do I do that? How do I show him that Naomi is wrong, that there’s nothing wrong with me?’

  ‘You need to show Rav that this was just a temporary thing, that you are all right now,’ she says. ‘You need to behave the way he would expect you to behave before. Sleep at night, don’t stay awake worrying about things. You need to do something that will reassure Rav that you are back to the old Allie again.’

  I think for a moment, my mind a terrifying blank. All I can see is myself thrusting the poker into the chimney, the bones and debris all over the floor. Then it comes to me. ‘The mural,’ I say. ‘I was going to paint a mural on Mina’s wall before the baby was born but I just ran out of time. It’s the kind of thing I would have done, if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with everything that has happened. If he sees me doing that, then maybe he’ll think it’s all OK. I haven’t mentioned the sounds from the chimney or the witch’s ladder for a while, even though I still hear it.’ And it’s been an effort not to involve him, the weight of it heavy on my shoulders.

  ‘This is perfect. Paint the mural.’ My mother gets to her feet. ‘You will be fine, ma chérie. You will figure this out, you must just go one day at a time.’ She lays a gentle kiss on my hair. ‘I will see you soon.’

  After she leaves, I think about Naomi and the glistening pearl sitting at the base of her throat. Is she the one who did this? Did she leave the pearls in the house knowing the story of Agnes Gowdie?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I feed the baby and lay him in the cot, then give Mina a sandwich and some more juice before I head upstairs to search out the paint that I bought months ago for the mural, my mother’s advice buzzing around in my head. Act normal. Don’t mention Agnes. Don’t give them any opportunity to say that you aren’t a fit mother.

  As I push open the door to the spare bedroom, I fancy I can still smell the oleander flowers on the air and I find my gaze drawn to the top of the chest of drawers, where the vase sat. It is empty, of course, the only sign that the flowers were ever there a slight ring on the varnish.

  Grabbing the loft pole from the spare wardrobe, I hook it into the hatch and twist, suddenly feeling apprehensive as I recall the last time I was up in the attic. There is a faint scratching sound as I pull the stiff door down, the hinges squealing, and I pause, feeling my pulse speed up. There is silence again and I brush my nerves away. It must have just been the hinges. Clicking on the torch app on my phone, I slowly climb the ladder and peer inside, relieved when I see the tins of paint stacked neatly against the wall. I tug them out, reaching in to find the rollers and trays that we also bought, when I notice the small stack of suitcases that Rav brought up here. Solid, sturdy fabric, the area around them disturbed. I move forward, casting the beam from my phone over the suitcases. There is something odd, something different about them and it takes me a moment to figure out what it is.

  Scratch. Scratch. A scratching comes from the walls, the same as the noise that comes from the chimney. I blink, taking a moment to try and regulate my breathing, waiting for it to come again. Silence. And then all at once I know what it is that is different about the cases. There is no dust on them. Everything up here is covered with a few months’ worth of dust, everything except the suitcases, and I am sure that they were just as dusty when Rav and I came up here to bring the mirror down. He’s been up here, I think. Rav has been up here and he has moved the suitcases. He’s packing to take them, he must be.

  Holding my breath, I unzip the suitcase, but I know what I will find. Clothes. Rav’s clothes, Mina’s clothes. All summer items, tiny skirts and vests for Mina, thin linen shirts for Rav, ones that he bought at the market the last time we visited Goa. I rummage through the tiny dresses, the thin, soft linen, before plunging my hands into the inside pockets, not sure what it is exactly that I’m looking for. Something rustles inside the pocket and I slow down, letting my fingers grasp it and pull it out. It’s a thin sheet of paper, folded in half, and when I open it, I immediately wish I hadn’t. The paper shakes slightly in my hand as I read over the words handwritten in black ink on the page.

  Baroque pearl/gold inlay – 24ct,

  £4
95 – to be collected. PAID

  It’s a receipt, from a costly independent jeweller in Maidstone and the date on the paper is a week before the baby was born. Pearl. Gold inlay. I feel slightly sick, the words swimming on the page in front of me. This receipt must belong to Rav. I close my eyes and the image of the glistening pearl, set in gold on a thin chain around Naomi’s neck fills my mind. My throat thickens and hot tears sting the back of my eyes as I remember her hand going to the chain, her long slender fingers enclosing the pearl in her fist, hiding it from sight. My mother bought it for me, Naomi had said. I’ve had it for years. But I don’t remember ever seeing her wear it before, and I would have remembered that – I know I would. Naomi is lying – Rav bought it for her, he must have done, and then he hid the receipt where he thought I would never find it. He thought he and Naomi would have packed up the children and gone, and I would have been none the wiser of their plans. Maybe they have been having an affair the entire time. Maybe that’s what all of this has been about. My eyes wander back to the open suitcase, to the now jumbled clothing, and I shove the receipt back into the pocket I found it in, scrubbing my fingers over my jeans as the air moves around me, as if someone has brushed past me.

  Freezing, my hands still on the lid of the closed suitcase, my breath catches in my throat. I can feel someone, her, watching me, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling, as if a hand is being held close – but not quite touching – my skin. My eyes comb the attic, hoping to see a trapped bird, a stray cat – hell, I’d even take a rat over the threat of Agnes Gowdie – but there is nothing in the dim, shadowy light. I inch away, my feet silent on the boards as I move towards the trapdoor, my hands shaking as I fumble with the light on my phone, my eyes never leaving the suitcase.