by Wendy Hudson
Since the night at the cabin when Anja had intercepted the texts, Darcy had been tight lipped where Eilidh was concerned. Anja knew they’d still been spending time together but had wondered if the initial spark had fizzled. Otherwise why wasn’t Darcy gushing about it to her? Why would she hide it?
They hugged for what felt like forever. It was physically painful for Anja to watch.
She sent another text.
This will only get worse for you.
It was as if Anja had started at the finish line. She’d known the outcome of her plan all those years ago, knew exactly how she wanted Darcy to feel, what she wanted her to believe. How she had hoped to force her world to crumble the same as Anja’s had.
Yet it seemed the race still had to be run. Only now she was pitched against Eilidh to win Darcy’s love, and every step was heavy, laden with regret over how it had all begun.
Could she try telling Darcy how she felt again? Do it different this time, not simply swoop in with a kiss? She remembered the look on Darcy’s face that night, the shock and confusion.
The aftermath.
Would it go any different? Would Darcy feel something more than that night after all the support Anja had given, the care, the love? Would Darcy consider them a possibility? Would she be prepared to give it a chance?
They now held each other tight, heads close together. Anja could only imagine the words being exchanged, and she was sure she would hate every one of them. She turned away as they kissed again. It was unbearable, like a hot poker lodged in her chest.
She sent another text.
Is she really worth it?
These days, Anja didn’t know who she had become or who she wanted to be. The voice she’d given her mother, the one who sought revenge, was fading. There was nothing to guide her anymore, only instinct and the will to get what she wanted.
Chapter 44
Darcy was getting used to manoeuvring around the cabin with one crutch and had become relatively self-sufficient. Her wrist still ached if she overdid it, but there was a vast improvement in the short time the cast had been off.
She hopped from freezer to stove, fridge to larder, and continued to wave Eilidh away every time she tried to help.
“If you really want a job, that beer we bought is in a storage cupboard outside and should be cold.”
“Oh, I like that plan. Is it all right for you to drink?”
“Aye, I’m pretty much off the pills. I’m sure I can share one or two.”
“I’m driving, so that’ll be my limit anyway.” Eilidh disappeared through the front door, and Darcy continued her salad prep. The lasagne was warming in the oven and the table was laid; she couldn’t remember the last time she had cooked for anyone but Anja.
A little guilt crept in then. Anja.
She’d actively avoided talking about Eilidh with her since the night in the cabin when Anja had been uncharacteristically cold after Darcy had opened herself up about her feelings for Eilidh.
The food she was about to serve Eilidh had been cooked by Anja, her friend and protector, yet here Darcy was keeping secrets. It was unlike Darcy in so many ways, and she couldn’t fathom what drove the urge to keep Eilidh away from her, at least in the short term.
Eilidh returned, popped the top off a bottle of Red Kite, and poured them both a glass. She held hers out for Darcy to clink and smiled. “Slàinte mhath!”
“Slàinte!” Darcy took a healthy gulp. “Damn, I’ve missed beer.”
Eilidh carried their plates to the table and held out a chair for Darcy. “I genuinely don’t think I could live without it.”
Eilidh tucked straight in to the piping-hot lasagne. “I think I’ve just taken the skin off the roof of my mouth, but I don’t care; this is bloody delicious.”
Darcy squirmed. “Glad you like it. More beer?” She tried to deflect talk of the meal and topped up their glasses.
“Mm…yes, please.” Eilidh took another bite of food and groaned. “Seriously, Darcy. This is amazing. What’s your secret ingredient?”
Now Darcy was stuck. “Um…maybe it’s the company. You’re enjoying it so much because you’re with me.” She offered a cheesy grin and her lips.
Eilidh kissed them lightly and laughed. “Maybe you’re right.” She eyed another piece on her fork. “Although there’s definitely something I can’t put my finger on. Nutmeg? Is it nutmeg?”
“Okay, fine.” Darcy let her own fork clatter to her plate. “I didn’t make it. Anja did. All right? Now you know.”
Eilidh lowered her own fork and stared at Darcy. “Why didn’t you…?”
“What?” Darcy threw up a hand. “Would you not have eaten it if I’d told you before? There was a batch left in the freezer, and it’s delicious as you have confirmed yourself, so don’t give me that look.”
Eilidh stared a moment longer then picked her fork back up. “Okay. It’s fine. No complaints here.” She began eating again without another word.
Once dinner was finished, they stoked the fire and turned the radio on low. Eilidh sat close to her on the sofa, and Darcy sank against her before propping her foot on an ottoman. The fresh wood crackled to life, and Darcy closed her eyes a moment, allowing the atmosphere to settle over her.
“I still can’t believe you let me eat the enemy’s food.” Eilidh drew circles on Darcy’s thigh and feigned upset.
“Oi. I thought there weren’t going to be any complaints? I don’t need that crap from you as well. I’ve had enough of it from Anja.” She stilled Eilidh’s hand as a hot tingle began to spread along her leg in a thoroughly distracting manner. She marvelled at the flood of anticipation that swelled within her and savoured each small touch Eilidh offered.
“Sorry.” Eilidh seemed contrite. “I’m mostly just miffed because now I have to admit she’s a great cook. But I promise I’m going to make more of an effort when I see her again.”
“Thank you.” Darcy strained upwards and touched her lips to Eilidh’s neck. When she shuddered, Darcy did her best to hide a smile. It seemed she had the ability to illicit the same response in Eilidh. “You got off on the wrong foot, that’s all.”
“Aye. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“I’m her favourite person, and I know she wants me to be happy. Give it a bit of time, and I’m sure you’ll soon warm that cold Norwegian heart.”
Eilidh laughed. “Challenge accepted.” She sealed her promise with a languid kiss that Darcy let herself melt into. They both cursed as the moment was broken by Eilidh’s phone, which had begun to buzz furiously from where she had plugged it in to charge.
“I was just thinking how peaceful it was up here.”
Darcy quirked an eyebrow. “Not while you were kissing me, I hope.”
Eilidh chuckled. “Oh no, although I couldn’t possibly tell you what I was thinking, then.”
“I wish you would.” Darcy moved in to steal Eilidh’s lips again when the phone let out another buzz.
Eilidh didn’t moved and instead pulled Darcy closer. “I’m ignoring it. The outside world doesn’t exist right now.”
From the coffee table, Darcy’s phone began to ring, and she was sure Eilidh actually growled. Darcy leaned forward, saw “withheld number” shining out, and swiped the red button to ignore.
Eilidh must have noticed her shift in demeanour. “How often do you get those kind of calls?”
Darcy shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I haven’t had any for a few weeks. In fact, there’s been nothing for ages. Not since the gift basket. The police told me to ignore them and log them. So that’s what I’ll do.”
“You never really told me when it all started?”
Darcy put a little space between them and fidgeted with the strings of her hoodie. “Must be, a year and a half now, maybe two. It feels longer.”
“I bet. I can’t believe the police h
aven’t caught anyone yet.”
“Aye.” Darcy sighed. “There’ve been no outward threats to harm me. Nothing violent. Which I guess puts me low down on their priorities.”
“But that’s how these things always start, isn’t it? I’m not trying to worry you, but you read about it all the time. An ex that can’t let go or someone with an unrequited crush. Eventually they get frustrated and flip out.”
“Trust me, I’ve read every story going on this stuff and none of it is pleasant. I keep waiting for that day when they turn up on the doorstep with worse intentions than gifts and trickery. I can only hope I’m prepared.”
Eilidh’s phone began to buzz again, and she threw it a dirty look. “Seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever been this popular.” She got up and crossed the room to pick it up, and Darcy watched her eyebrows furrow as she read the messages.
“What’s wrong?”
Eilidh glanced up from the phone, and her features softened a little. “What? Oh, nothing to worry about. Problem patient update from Sam.”
Darcy’s phone rang again, and she huffed in frustration and anger.
“How about we turn them off?” She watched as Eilidh held her finger on the side of her phone and then showed her the blank screen. “See. Problem solved.”
Darcy chewed her lip. Who voluntarily turned their phone off these days?
Eilidh laughed at her obvious reluctance. “The world won’t end. I promise. But I bet you’ll feel better. I’m here with you if anything happens. A few hours without won’t hurt.”
“What if Anja needs me?” As tempting as it was, Darcy still wasn’t sure.
“Why would she need you?” Eilidh sat down again and reached for Darcy’s phone. “Go on. Do it.”
“I’ve been worried about her, that’s all. She’s been strange towards me this past couple of weeks or so, and I’m not sure why. It feels as if she’s bottling something up. She’s been unwaveringly positive and attentive, and although I love that, it feels sort of fake. It’s not the real her. She’s the friend who would normally tell me to put my big-girl pants on and get on with it.”
Eilidh chuckled. “Sounds like something my mum would say.” Darcy’s phone rang again, and this time Eilidh did the honours. “What’s she got to bottle up, anyway?”
Darcy wondered a moment if she should tell Eilidh, then decided it wasn’t exactly a state secret. It might also help to explain why Anja wasn’t being particularly accommodating where Eilidh was concerned.
“She split up with her husband. Not long before the accident. He cheated on her, and since then all her focus and worry has been on me and she’s stopped talking about it. I know he’s left the country, gone for good, and I keep waiting for her to react. But there’s nothing.”
Eilidh draped an arm around Darcy and drew her closer. “Wow, that sucks. I imagine it was frightening for her. After losing her husband, she almost lost her best friend. Maybe this is her way of coping? She’s concentrating on you because you’re something she can help fix.”
“Aye. Maybe. I’m sure we’ll talk about it at some point, but I hope it’s soon. I want the real Anja back. I miss her.”
“She’ll talk soon. I’m sure of it. I have to say though, I wouldn’t have guessed that Anja was married to a guy.”
Darcy shifted to face her. “Really? Why?”
Eilidh squirmed a little and couldn’t quite catch Darcy’s eye. “It’s nothing, really. Obviously I don’t know her, or your relationship, but something made me think she was maybe an ex? Or at the very least it was complicated.”
Darcy found herself laughing at that thought, but something stirred inside her stomach, an uncomfortable feeling that made her tense. Why had Eilidh’s observation made her react that way? “No. Definitely not. We always have and always will be friends and nothing more.”
“Well, in that case.” Eilidh picked up Darcy’s phone again. “I’m sure she’ll understand if your phone is off for one evening. If anything is really wrong and she can’t get hold of you, I’m sure she’ll come out here.
Darcy knew she was talking sense. A few hours of quality time in front of the fire with Eilidh seemed too good to be interrupted with a reminder of that night. Of the ghost that refused to show itself. She held down the power button and tossed the phone on to the armchair out of sight.
Anja crouched down and leaned back against her usual tree. It was high enough in the thick woodland that she was hidden from view, but it put her almost level with the cabin and its rear windows. When it was dark and the lights were on inside the cabin, she knew she couldn’t be seen.
She seethed inside. Eilidh had been there more than two hours.
Her mind reeled with every imaginable scenario that could be playing out inside. She’d watched them cook, sit down to dinner, laughing and drinking. Eilidh had sat in her seat and drank from the fancy beer glass she’d bought Darcy.
Now they had moved out of view, and Anja couldn’t be sure where they had gone.
The sofa?
The rug in front of the fire?
The goddamn bedroom?
She hit dial on Darcy’s number again, not expecting her to answer but at least hoping it would intrude on whatever was going on in there. It didn’t feel enough of a distraction, and her imagination raced with alternatives, something that wouldn’t expose her prematurely.
A recorded voice in her ear told her Darcy’s phone had been switched off. “What the fuck?” That never happened. She’d been a fidgety mess the three days it had been in the shop having the screen fixed.
They had to be in the bedroom.
The way they’d looked at each other earlier that day. The tears. The hugs. The kissing. She pressed her fingertips to her eyes as images of Darcy and Eilidh kissing progressed to worse.
Sex.
Eilidh’s naked body snaking along Darcy’s, her lips on places they had no right to be.
It was too much.
She thumped the ground and dug her nails in to the sodden earth, squeezing handfuls of it in an attempt to temper the eruption that threatened to blow.
Was Darcy in bed with her right now? What reason would she have not to be? She didn’t know how Anja felt, but Eilidh had made her own feelings painfully clear.
All her plans to take care of Darcy, to make her realise how good they were together, had been royally fucked up by Eilidh. Why the hell couldn’t she stay away and leave them alone? Take heed of her warnings and disappear from both of their lives.
Every which way Anja turned, Eilidh was there obstructing her. Taunting her. She felt Darcy slipping through her fingers and knew she was almost lost.
Her hand moved through the soil and found a rock. She let her fingers wrap around it.
She wouldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t allow Eilidh to get her claws in to Darcy any further. She was vulnerable, and between the injuries and the pills, she couldn’t know what or who she wanted.
Anja stood tall. Resolute. With the rock held fast in her hands, she marched towards the cabin, unsure what she was going to do, but knowing she needed to do something. Only a few feet from the front steps, out of range of the camera, she stopped. A decision held tight in her hand.
She raised her arm and threw with every ounce of strength she had.
Chapter 45
Both women flinched, and Eilidh shot up from the sofa. The unmistakeable sound of glass shattering echoed outside the cabin. Eilidh saw the terror flash in Darcy’s eyes and reached to place a calming hand on her arm. “Wait right here.”
She tiptoed to the kitchen and flicked off the radio. “Stay still a moment and listen.”
After a few seconds, all Eilidh could hear was her heartbeat thumping in her ears. “Do you have a weapon? A torch?”
Darcy nodded, eyes still wide. “There’s a bat in the bedroom,” she whispered. “Torch by the fron
t door.” She pointed in its direction. “But you shouldn’t go out there. I’ll call the police.”
“It’s okay. I want you to stay here and keep low behind the sofa. Get your phone switched on.” Eilidh ducked down and moved quickly towards the bedroom. The bat stood propped in a corner near the bed. The anger at knowing why Darcy needed to keep such a thing handy replaced the fear. She headed back to the living room, adrenalin motivating every step, and slipped her shoes on.
Darcy hobbled to her side and grabbed a crutch and the tablet. They quickly scanned the small area that the CCTV covered but couldn’t see movement or anything unusual around the steps or porch. “Seriously, you don’t need to go out there.”
“I’ll be fine.” Eilidh unhooked the torch and flicked it on.
“Then I’m coming with you. I’m not hiding from this anymore.”
Eilidh took a moment before nodding. “Fair enough. Stay as low as you can and keep quiet. Move slowly.”
They headed outside together. Darcy wielded the crutch like a weapon, limping but unwavering. Eilidh caught hold of her hand as they ducked behind the porch fencing. She scanned the woods and track with the torch, but nothing caught their attention. She brought the beam closer, swept it across Darcy’s shed, then her car.
Eilidh’s windscreen was a mesh of tiny pieces, apart from where a large hole gaped at the driver’s side.
There was no sign of anyone, and despite the windscreen, she felt some relief seep in. “Flyaway branch, maybe?” She kept the light on the car as they approached.
Both spotted the rock on the driver’s seat at the same time.
“Runaway stalker, more like.” Darcy threw the crutch to the ground and scrubbed her face with her hands. She’d turned a pasty shade of white, and Eilidh could see the tremble in her movements.
“C’mon.” She picked up the crutch and wrapped an arm around Darcy’s waist before guiding her back towards the cabin.
Once safely inside, Darcy retrieved her phone. “There’s more missed calls from an unknown number. I’ll need to call the police.”
