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“Good. So what’s the cottage like?”
“I’ll walk you through it,” she said, glancing up the staircase. She knew this is what Gina was after, because it was Gina who had found the cottage on an Internet site. She wanted to know her choice was a success.
“A live tour. I love it, go ahead.”
“Okay, on the ground floor there’s the hall and a doorway into a big kitchen-diner.” She walked through the doorway into the ground floor room. “Oh, you’d love it. There’s a workstation in the center, with copper pots and pans hanging over it on a rack, very oldie worldie. And it’s got a huge range, authentic looking, as well as a regular stove.”
Zoë glanced at the pretty bowed window with its lace curtains, and the solid oak dining table and chairs against the back wall. “If I lived here I’d be in this room all the time.”
“Now I’m jealous,” Gina replied.
“Stairs.” Zoë jogged up them. The staircase turned a corner onto a small landing, and she poked her head into the bathroom. “There are two rooms on the next floor. Nice bathroom, very compact but it has a shower, hurray!” She turned to the other doorway. “Bed looks inviting, lots of cottage-style pillows, thick quilt.”
“You’ll need a rest after the drive.”
“Maybe,” she replied, walking over to the window. “It’s weird, because the house is very close to the water and the tide is coming in. It looks as if the water is going to come right up to the door.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “It’s carpeted, but it’s got sloping floors, they’re all over the place, makes you feel drunk.” Walking back onto the landing, she took the second staircase, which wound up into the attic.
“Oh, yes, this is amazing. The attic’s been converted into a sitting room, and it’s got everything I need, fireplace, TV, long comfy sofa, books, magazines, reading chairs and two great big windows that look right out across the sea.”
“I wish I was there with you now.”
Zoë walked closer to the window and leaned up against the frame. She felt unbalanced, and she looked at the floor, wondering if it was uneven like the bedroom, but it looked as if it was a more recent addition. Even so, she felt as if she was slipping, or there was something rising around her. Her skin prickled with awareness, her palms growing damp.
“Tell me about the view,” Gina urged, “then I’ll let you go for that shower.”
Zoë looked out along the bay, trying to ignore the strange feeling surrounding her. “The tide is coming in, and there are two small boats out there. It looks very pretty.” As she spoke, warmth flowed through her body again, like a sirocco of sensation moving in and around her. She blinked and the room seemed to shift. She grasped the window frame, her chest tight.
“She used to stand here,” she said, the words coming out of nowhere. “Looking out at the fishermen hauling in their catch. She watched their muscled arms work while she decided which of them she would win away from his wife that night.”
Her eyes flashed shut.
Laughter rang through her mind and she felt wind in her face, as if she were out on the marina.
Which man shall I have tonight, which one will it be?
“What did you say?” Gina’s voice reached her.
It hauled her back and she jolted away from the window, snatching her hand from the frame as if it was on fire. What was she saying? The words had just come out of nowhere, and it felt as if she was no longer alone in the house.
Turning on her heel, she looked around, her free hand at her throat. She glanced into the corners of the room, and then watched the staircase. She couldn’t see anything moving. All was silent, but there was definitely a different feeling in the room since she had come up here. Something like she’d had as she drove into the village, but much more intense.
“Zoë?” Gina sounded concerned, her voice rising. “You still there?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” She gave a nervous laugh, wafting her T-shirt to let the air under it. “I guess I was thinking about who had lived here before.”
“You definitely need to get some rest.” Concern was evident in her sister’s voice.
“Gina, I’m a grown woman, you don’t have to fret. I’ll be fine, I’ll speak to you later in the week.” She spoke with more confidence than she actually felt, but she didn’t want her sister to worry.
When she switched off the phone she took a deep breath and steeled herself to go back down the stairs. All was quiet, and yet she couldn’t shake the curious feeling that someone else was in the house with her.
“You’re the only one in the house. You’re just tired, silly woman,” she told herself, as she went into the bathroom and flicked on the shower. “Have a shower, take a nap, you’ll be fine.”
Now why wasn’t she convinced?
Cain Davot darted across the busy Edinburgh street while he listened to the message Elspeth had left him on his phone. When he reached his Aston Martin, he folded the phone into his pocket with a smile on his face.
At last. They’d tried a couple of women visiting Carbrey before, unsuccessfully. This one was about the right age, and Elspeth had hunted down a photo of her online that gave him much hope. As he slid into the soft, cream leather interior he turned the key in the ignition—and nudged the volume of the stereo up, filling the car with Wagner.
