“And then we baked an apple...” She hesitated. “We baked an apple ben-yay.” Eleonore had a hard time pronouncing the word “beignet,” but the way she did sounded incredibly cute.
“So what do you think? Shall we give some of those beignets to Avalon to try?” Jess asked.
“Yay!” Eleonore replied. “Mom?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“I think I love Europe.”
***
When Jess and Eleonore came home, they put the freshly baked beignets on the kitchen table and gave her daughter a bath. She had forgotten how dirty a child could get from a baking class. Eleonore was covered with flour and sugar and was sticky all over as if she had jumped into a honey bath and then wheeled in flour.
As usual, Avalon wanted to be next to Eleonore, and he took place on the rim of the tub so he could be close to her, not minding the gushing water. Luckily, Eleonore was respectful enough with her cat not to make him wet or bother him.
After bath time, when Eleonore and Jess got back into the kitchen, the beignets were gone, and the window was open.
At first, Jess thought it had been Avalon again because over the years their mischievous cat had found techniques to open the fridge and serve himself whenever he wanted too. That's why she always put a heavy box in front of the refrigerator to prevent him from doing so. But this time, Avalon had been with Eleonore the entire time. Paw-prints were visible on the spilled flour, and they were much bigger than a cat's.
***
Aidan called around half past seven to inform Jess he wasn't coming home until late. There had been a full waiting-room at closing time and they weren't allowed to send the feline patients home. “Why don't you order pizza for the two of you? I'll catch up with you later,” he had said, so that's what she did. She looked up where she could order, but as the pizzeria was situated on the main square, only at about two minutes walking from their apartment, she decided to go pick it up herself.
After dinner, when Eleonore and Avalon had been tucked into bed, Jess collapsed on the couch. She grabbed her cup of tea and a bowl of marinated olives off the table, pulled her feet up under the blanket and switched on the television. Almost as soon as it was on, she lowered the sound.
She couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched. Michelle, her best friend in America, had always said she could sense ghosts, that she knew when they were in the room with her because you could feel their presence as strongly as that of a real person. She claimed it was the same with animals, especially spiders. Jess had always laughed it off because she didn't believe in ghosts, but now she could tell with 100 percent certainty that something or someone was here with her.
As she sat on the sofa, quiet, listening, she didn't hear anything in particular. She then tried to concentrate on the screen again, but every minute or so she looked at the window. She had closed the curtains, but a small slit was still open. No one would be able to look inside because they lived on the first floor. Still, Jess could have sworn she had seen something move behind the curtains.
Jess became increasingly nervous with each passing second. She put the bowl of olives back on the table, got up, and headed toward the window. She saw nothing, only her own reflection in the dark glass.
She then went to the bedroom, opened the door to the balcony, and peered outside over the gardens and the pine forests - her cup of tea on the railing, steam wafting out of it. She could see a curl of smoke coming out of the chimney of the house on their left. Everything was so cozy here, yet the only thing she truly wanted was to get away from this place. Was it the stress of being in a foreign country that made her feel so ominous? Was she unconsciously looking for excuses to rebel against their move?
The silence of the outdoors was staggering, not a sound save for the whisper of wind through the pines.
There's nothing's going on, she told herself.
Nobody's watching me.
The words became a mantra, one she repeated silently over and over again as if by mere repetition she could make the phrases real.
The thing was, she wasn't absolutely sure they were true.
The sound of a door opening inside had Jess' heart slamming itself against her ribs like a canary trying to free itself from a box.
Someone was in the house.
In the hallway, Avalon hissed at the darkness in the kitchen, his teeth bared.
Jess was afraid to enter, afraid of what she would find there. When she finally had the courage to step into the unknown and turn on the light, the kitchen lit up.
Nothing.
Avalon watched her doubtfully as she stepped back into the hallway and then the living room. The bowl of olives was exactly where she'd left it but it was empty. The olives were just gone. Did Avalon do that?
Almost an hour later, Jess met Aidan at the door the second she heard the key in the lock downstairs. She pulled him inside and clung around his neck. When he asked her what was wrong, she remained silent, because she had no idea what to tell him. She didn't know what had put her in such a fearful state. Aidan would only tell her she exaggerated, and he'd probably be right. She said, “I missed you, that's all. It's been a long day.”
CHAPTER 6
“Who is she?” Eleonore asked when Jess drove her to school Friday morning.
“Who's who?” Jess countered, not sure what her daughter was talking about.
“The girl. The one who's always watching us.”
“No one's watching us,” Jess said.
“Yes, there is. All the girls in my baking class say the same.”
Normally, Jess wouldn't have put much thought into such a remark - children can say weird things sometimes. But now it seemed Eleonore might be right. Jess felt like there was indeed someone watching them, no matter what they were doing.
She felt it everywhere she went. When she took Eleonore to baking class, when she was lying in bed at night, even in the shops. But not all the time.
Some of the time.
More often than not, everything seemed normal, and then all of a sudden, she felt as if someone was checking up on her. Sometimes it was only briefly, like a minute or so, but at other times, she could feel it for several hours.
Sometimes she could feel it on the streets.
But mostly at home.
And never outside Clervaux.
In fact, every day since she'd arrived in Europe, it had gotten worse. More and more, she'd get that tingly feeling, and know that someone behind her was watching her. She'd try to ignore it, tried to resist the urge to look back over her shoulder, but eventually the hair on the back of her neck would stand up, and the tingling would turn into a chill, and finally, she'd turn around.
And nobody would be there.
Nobody, except for the cats. The sight of cats waddling along the pavement had never seemed eerie to her, but the fact that they were always there, no matter where she was - on the sidewalk, at the main square, in a café, in the forest – made her skin crawl.
Whenever she was running errands in Clervaux, she kept looking into store windows, but it wasn't the merchandise she was looking at; it was the reflection in the glass.
The reflection of something sinister watching her.
Sometimes she could have sworn she saw something. The reflection of a small, squatting figure. But then she glanced over her shoulder and all she could see once more were the cats of Clervaux staring back at her.
She decided to not let her imagination get to her, to resist the urge to glance over her shoulder every few seconds.
And then her daughter muttered the words, “Who is she? The girl. The one who's always watching us,” and the paranoia tightened its grip on her once more.
***
It was 25 degrees outside, unusually warm for the beginning of October. For the remaining of the week, the newspapers had predicted equally nice weather.
David had invited Jess, Aidan, and Eleonore for dinner at his caravan. He had served them two dishes, one of oli
ves, the other of dried tomatoes, and settled them in the garden on two folding benches around a large aluminum camping table, the kind whose legs are adjustable and that you can fold after use.
David's mom had joined them as well. She was heavy-built and because of her bone-structure and clothing, she looked like a Ukrainian grandma. She appeared much older than she probably was. She observed Jess and Aidan with a smile as if she could follow their conversation, but in reality, she didn't understand a word of English.
Their host shared a few gulped sips of Bourgogne Aligoté with them and then apologized for the fact that he had to dash back behind his barbecue set to prepare dinner.
David had taken up residence in the caravan, not out of financial necessity, but because he said that, “living on a campsite is fun.” It had been a dream of his since childhood. His mom lived in the caravan next to his, so technically, they didn't live together, but from what Jess understood, she still did his laundry and the majority of his cooking.
Camping had always given Jess mixed feelings. She liked the vacation atmosphere and being surrounded by nature, but she didn't like the idea of having to shower in a public space. Though she thought the interior of David's caravan was cozy, she didn't like that it was tiny and the ceilings so low that she couldn't stand up straight. Luckily, nowadays, caravans were equipped with electricity so you could work and watch television. As far as she could remember, that hadn't been the case in her childhood.
What she did like, however, was the swimming pool. Jess already pictured herself winding down after work by swimming a few lengths and then reading a book on one of those sun loungers. “Have a swim,” David had suggested. “There are towels in the spare room.” Unfortunately, Aidan had forgotten to mention the availability of the swimming pool so neither had brought their swimsuits.
Eleonore didn't agree with her mother. “Can we come and live here, too?” she had asked when they arrived at the camp site. Jess hoped she was only joking.
Her daughter was outside, playing with David's cat, Pim, whose crooked mouth and silted-up left eye gave him a funny appearance. The right side of his face was all black, making it look as if he were wearing a pirate patch.
Like the center of Clervaux, the camping site was heaving with cats. Two of them were near the riverbank, snarling with their paws in the water in an attempt to catch a fish. Neither of them had been successful so far. They'd probably be luckier later on if they begged for some leftovers from the barbecue.
Their table looked out over the river Clerve, which was only a few steps away from them. The river was fairly narrow and on the other bank was a rich canopy of trees, which didn't leave any room to imagine what was behind it. Probably nothing but the forest, Jess thought.
Jess took a sip from her cooled white wine and let the beauty of the surrounding nature overtake her. She noticed how everyone else, apart from Eleonore, did exactly the same. Everyone had gone quiet and enjoyed the peaceful tranquility. Chirping birds. A breeze rustling through the trees. A fish splashing in the river. And a sizzling barbecue that promised the imminent arrival of great food. In the far distance, you could hear cars on the motorway, though you had to pay attention to notice. It surprised Jess that she didn't hear more cars because the motorway was so close. She supposed it was the trees that shielded them from the noise.
Jess looked at David who was preparing spicy lamb and chicken sausages on the barbecue. Behind him hung a clothing line with some of his mother's dresses. A narrow column of smoke rose out of the barbecue and into the clothes. She didn't want to imagine what they would smell like the following day.
David returned to the table, laden with sausages, and served them fresh salad of every shade of red and green. “Just a second,” he said, and he left, returning a few seconds later with a plate full of grilled peppers and onions.
“What's written on your T-shirt?” Eleonore asked.
“It says 'Mon chat est plus beau que toi.' It means: 'My cat is cuter than you,' David replied.
Eleonore giggled.
Jess had to admit the meat was surprisingly well prepared. Grilling a sausage all the way through before it burnt on the outside was tricky, and flare ups from dripping fat made it even harder if cooked on a barbecue. But these sausages were heaven.
“We've had years when it snowed in October,” David said, “but the temperature has become a lot milder in recent years.”
“I heard on the radio it's going to storm tonight,” Aidan remarked. “Must be annoying when you sleep in a caravan, no?”
“You get used to it,” David replied. “But during a storm, the canopy can make some serious noise.”
“Speaking of which...” Jess said. “Do you sometimes hear wild animals? Do they come close to the caravans? Or even inside?”
“It's rats mostly,” David explained. “They can make quite a bit of noise during the night. Sometimes I hear them rummage for food right under my window.”
Could it be that this was what she and Eleonore had been hearing as well? Only yesterday evening, a rat had been working its way along the bottom of the building's front wall and had then leapt into one of the garbage cans whose lid didn't fit properly. A couple of seconds later, another rat had followed. There had been ants and cockroaches, too.
Her skin crawling with the thought of all the things that might be lurking around her home, she finished her wine in one big gulp.
“And the squirrels are the worst,” David continued. “When they're having a dance party on the roof, it's like hell is breaking loose.”
“Jess thinks some backwoods animal is trying to squawk its way inside the apartment,” Aidan said.
David's mom stared at them in silence, enjoying her son's company, and nodding at everything they said as if she understood every word of it.
“That would be very unlikely,” David said. “Some more wine?”
They all nodded, so David opened another bottle of chilled Bourgogne Aligoté and filled their glasses.
“You see, you don't need to be afraid of wild animals,” Aidan told Eleonore. He turned to David. “She can't sleep because of all these new noises.”
“And what about the scratching and the clicking of the claws inside the apartment?” Jess asked. “Do you think that could be rats or squirrels, too?”
Jess could have sworn there was a hint of panic in David's eyes, followed by an uneasy silence. Before she could decide what was going on, David smiled broadly, saying, “I almost forgot. I bought Camembert for the barbecue,” and off he went. Minutes later, the evening air was scented with grilled cheese and charred herbs.
David came back a little later with the steaming-hot Camemberts still in their wooden cartons and decorated with thyme, dried tomatoes, chopped hazelnuts, and honey.
Though Jess was sure David was hiding something and was avoiding the subject, she decided that it was smarter not to address the wild animals again.
They finished off their meal with another bottle of wine while the crickets chirped and the evening sun hovered over the caravan rooftops. The absence of clouds and pollution made for a sky full of stars.
***
That night, when Jess was about to surrender to the gentle embrace of sleep, she heard something move in the darkness of their bedroom. It started with soft clicking on the hardwood floor. But it wasn't the kind of noise you'd expect from scurrying vermin. The movement seemed slower, more deliberate, as if the animal had an intention and knew where it was going.
The sound stopped near the bed. She could hear breathing right next to her pillow.
What animal could it be? If it was indeed a rat, they'd be in big trouble. She knew rats multiplied rapidly and produced a new litter of up to a dozen pups every three weeks.
But the way it breathed and advanced made her think it could be something else.
Something bigger.
She waited and closed her eyes, desperate to relax. After a few seconds, she scanned the darkness for movement. The animal pa
used its breathing as if it sensed Jess was awake.
She thought it would stay there the entire night. But then the clicking moved away from the bedroom.
The silence returned.
CHAPTER 7
“I told you we'd meet again, Dr. Burns,” Lorenza said.
Aidan was pleased to see her enter his cabinet. Only minutes ago, he'd been hoping to finish work as quickly as possible so he could go home to Jess and Eleonore, but as soon as he saw Lorenza's beautiful face, he was glad he was doing overtime.
“I got a reminder to give one of the cats his yearly shots,” she said, handing the paper to Aidan. “The poor guy has been with me for almost three years now. No one seems to want him. Isn't he cute, though?” She gave the cat a ruffle and then a kiss on the forehead.
Aidan looked at the reminder. The usual: rabies, FeLV, Bordetella.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Lorenza asked.
“Working and staying home probably. We don't know anything or anyone here yet.”
“It's my birthday on Saturday,” she said. “You wanna join me to a nightclub in Luxembourg City? It's a great opportunity to get to know each other better.”
Aidan's crooked grin revealed he was flattered, but he could think of only one possible answer. “I'm married.”
“Does being married in the United States mean you can't have friends?” She said it with a smile, didn't even mind if he turned her down.
“No. Not really.”
Where was this going anyway?
“I didn't mean the two of us,” Lorenza said, putting the power back into her camp. “David and Simon will be there, too. I'm seeing them often here at the clinic so they're like friends.”
Maybe this was your typical small-town mentality. “I'll think about it. But if I do come over, I'd like to bring my wife, Jess, along. She doesn't know anyone here, so she'll appreciate the distraction.”
“I'd love to meet your wife,” Lorenza said. “Simon will bring Claire along, too.” Lorenza's French accent was so darn sexy he had to tamp down an upcoming fantasy. He would never cheat on Jess. Not ever. Not even with someone as attractive as Lorenza. He loved Jess way too much for that. But these forbidden thoughts made him feel alive again. He had been asleep for way too long.
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