Return to Blackwater House by Vikki Patis

Author:Vikki Patis [Patis, Vikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781529394542
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2022-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Rebecca

Before – December 2019

After dinner, while Daniel was in charge of grilling the crème brûlée pots for dessert, the rest of us gathered in the living room, glasses of wine in hand, the Christmas tree lights twinkling in the corner of the room. Sierra was dozing in the armchair, and Ava was telling Cass and Natalia about school and an upcoming trip to Jamaica Inn.

Aisha raised an eyebrow. ‘Jamaica Inn?’ she repeated.

‘It’s where the novel was set, by Daphne du Maurier,’ Ava answered.

‘Sounds like fun,’ Cass said, sipping her orange juice. ‘Is it haunted?’

‘Probably.’ I stifled a giggle. The wine was making me giddy; I could feel my cheeks flushing as I took another sip.

‘There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ Ava said sternly, reminding me of the way she used to tell us off when she was a child, her face serious, her tiny fists clenched at her sides. I burst into giggles, setting off Cass and Natalia, Ava glaring for a moment before joining in. Daniel entered with the tray of desserts, Christmas oven gloves covering his hands, and we all turned to look at him, our lips still stretched into grins.

‘What?’ he said, slightly indignant, and it set us off again. Aisha snorted, holding a hand in front of her mouth, and Sierra started to chuckle, her eyes still closed, her hands resting across her stomach.

I waved a hand as I got up to help him with dessert. ‘Nothing, darling. Nothing at all.’

Later that evening, Cass suggested we go for a walk, so we bundled into our coats, wrapped scarves around our necks and shoved our feet into boots. Daniel stayed behind, pleading a headache, and I didn’t press him. The village was silent, lights twinkling in the trees and above shops with darkened windows.

‘It’s so peaceful here,’ Sierra remarked, her words frosting in the air before her.

‘Everyone is tucked up indoors,’ Aisha said, her coat barely fastened across her large stomach. ‘Not out in the cold like you maniacs.’

‘You’re out here too,’ Cass pointed out, and Aisha stuck her tongue out at her sister.

We walked arm in arm through the deserted streets, stopping when we heard Christmas music drifting from the pub where the women were staying that night.

Sierra took my arm, her hand resting in the crook of my elbow, her shoulder bumping into mine as we walked through the garden of rest across the road. ‘This place is beautiful,’ she said quietly, pausing to read a gravestone half-hidden by greenery.

‘Daniel says it’s morbid,’ I said without thinking, and Sierra flashed me a knowing smile.

‘Daniel doesn’t know everything.’ She started walking again, her arm still in mine, eyes scanning the area for more gravestones. ‘This is a wonderful example of Mother Nature reclaiming her land,’ she said after a moment. ‘Taking back what is rightfully hers.’

I considered her words, my eyes on the headstones and the untamed greenery. She was right; it was beautiful, wild and striking, just like so much of the Cornish landscape.

Sierra nodded as if I had spoken and we continued walking.

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