Cold to Her Bones: A Psychological Thriller by Cate Anderson & Serenity Woods

Author:Cate Anderson & Serenity Woods [Anderson, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

We spend the afternoon at the house. I ask Mum if there’s anything that needs doing, and although she seems puzzled as to why two strangers want to help her out, she mentions a few jobs.

The front lawn needs a cut, so Harry gets the mower out of the shed. I wonder why Ciara’s husband, Ben, hasn’t helped. I’ve never liked the guy, and the fact that he doesn’t seem to be helping his wife with her aging and sick parents doesn’t raise him in my estimation.

Mum wants her net curtains washed, so I help her take them down from the window, glancing out at Harry as he walks up and down with the mower in the cool November air.

“He’s a nice man,” Mum says. “Is he your boyfriend?”

I watch Harry get to the end of the lawn, turn, and walk back again. He’s slipped his feet back into his big boots, but he’s left the laces undone. The wind tugs at his mop of hair and scruffy beard. His T-shirt is faded from too many years of wear. The pockets of his cargo shorts bulge with bits of flint and pottery he forgot to remove before we left. I’m crazy about this guy.

“Yes, I suppose he is.” I smile.

“That’s good,” Mum says. “It’s time you got yourself a man.”

I stare at her as we finish removing the hooks. “Do you know who I am, Mum?”

She frowns at me. “What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t I know my own daughter?” Her eyes are clear, the confusion momentarily gone. She picks up the nets and goes out to the laundry.

My head spinning, I follow her out there, help her stuff them in the washing machine, and watch as she pours the detergent into the tray. “I’m glad you like Harry,” I say. “He treats me well, Mum, and he looks after me. I hope Dad will be pleased with that.”

“You’ll have to introduce him to Pat,” she says, naming my father.

“I just did, Mum, he came upstairs with me.”

“Yes, Pat’s still in bed.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s been so lazy lately. It’s hard to get him out of bed and down the stairs. Being retired was the worst thing that could have happened to him.”

“Mum…” I begin to see why Ciara is so exhausted by all this. “You know that Dad is very ill, don’t you?”

“What?” She stops and looks at me, puzzled, a hint of panic in her eyes. “My memory… I can’t always remember things.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

I rest my hand on her arm, full of sorrow. “It’s all right, Mum. Let’s get another cuppa, shall we?”

When the nets are done, we take them out and hang them on the line. Harry has finished the lawn, and he comes in and washes his hands, smelling of the garden. Oddly, she seems more relaxed with him. He makes her laugh, and she follows him around the house as he does a few jobs for her: fixing a shelf, tightening a doorknob, and moving a couple of boxes to the spare room.

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