‘I’ll send her away. I’ll just be a minute.’ I quickly pull my gloves off and hand them to Holly. She takes them, reluctantly.
I walk back inside the house.
9
On the way to the front door, I hastily pull a rug over the blood stain, then quickly check myself in the downstairs bathroom mirror, making sure I don’t have any blood on me. I don’t, but I look green. I pinch my cheeks.
The doorbell chimes again. I go and open the door.
‘Hi! Teri!’ I smooth my hair and immediately regret it. My hand is shaking like a leaf. I force a smile as I shove it in my pocket.
She tilts her head. ‘Is this a bad time?’
And I have to say, I am thinking that if I’d rung someone’s doorbell five times, banged on the door, called out to them, then rang the doorbell again and no one answered, it’s a fair bet it’s not a good time.
‘Not at all.’ I smile. My face is trembling. ‘I was taking a nap. What is it?’
‘I’m desperate for a screwdriver,’ she says, hands together in prayer. ‘I need it to put my bed together. I’ve looked everywhere, in every box, and I can’t find mine. I had to sleep on the mattress on the floor last night. And let me tell you, that floor is gross.’ She grimaces, even sticks out her tongue briefly.
I stand there, feeling dizzy, wishing I hadn’t opened the door after all.
‘A screwdriver?’
‘Yes. Do you have one? Can I come in?’
Only then do I realise that it’s started to rain lightly, the wind has picked up, and Teri doesn’t have a jacket on. She stands there rubbing her arms, shivering on the spot.
I rub my forehead. ‘I was having a nap.’
‘I’m so sorry. I came before, but you didn’t answer.’
‘I was probably sleeping.’ My legs are starting to shake. I don’t think I can stand there much longer.
‘Right. Well, if I could grab this screwdriver, then I’ll be out of your hair.’
‘I don’t have one,’ I blurt.
She tilts her head. ‘Maybe in your tinkering husband’s toolbox?’
Shit. I did say that, didn’t I? I take a breath. ‘Sorry, I’m not thinking straight. I’ll get one and bring it over.’
‘I’ll come with you now,’ she says, and to my horror, she walks right past me and into the house.
I am a heartbeat away from screaming, ‘No!’ But it’s too late. She’s already inside.
‘Oh my God, I love your house!’
I think of Holly in the garage with her dead father. The garage door is thick and self-closing, so she might not even hear us. It will be fine. Just get her the stupid screwdriver and send her on her way.
But what if Holly wonders what’s taking me so long? She’s not going to come in, is she?
I am suddenly aware that Teri said something and is waiting for me to reply. I blink. ‘Sorry. I’m still waking up. What did you say?’
‘I said I love your house.’
‘Thank you. All right. A screwdriver.’
‘Could I have a glass of water?’
