The Last House: an intense psychological thriller of locked doors and family secrets by R. G. Adams

Author:R. G. Adams [Adams, R. G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quercus
Published: 2022-08-04T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

The buzz of her phone woke Kit early. Her temples throbbed slightly, the result of too much beer and too little food the night before. She’d settled on cheese on toast and it hadn’t been substantial enough to soak up the alcohol. Grabbing her phone, she could see it was only six thirty. Who could be texting her at this hour? Her heart executed a startling jump as the penny dropped. It had to be something to do with Christine.

She sat up in bed and took a long drink from the glass of water on her bedside table, steeling herself. But when she read and then reread the text, she couldn’t immediately make sense of it.

dont come up today we r going away

As she tried to decipher it, her phone pinged again.

dont ever come back to the house

Dylan. She’d been due to see him later on. She checked the number against the one on her phone list from the other day. It was him. What the hell was this about? It didn’t seem very likely that Dylan and Rhian would be planning a nice weekend away, so where could they possibly be going?

She rolled out of bed and onto her feet in one motion. Her head swam. But after swallowing two paracetamols with her morning coffee, and then another tall glass of cold water, she felt more human. She showered and dressed in black jeans and T-shirt, gave her hair a blast with the hairdryer and a quick straighten, and then pulled up her bedroom blind to ascertain what outdoor clothes she needed. It was wet and blustery outside yet again. Her burst of energy disappeared, her mood dropping back down to its recent low levels. How much longer could this weather go on? She pictured what it would be like up in Rock and selected a pair of flat-heeled ankle boots and her grey Nike fleece. She added her hooded Superdry coat over the top, threw her fags and water bottle into her bag, and hurried out to the car park. As she opened the car door, she was assailed by the smell of stale fried onions and had to stop and lean her forehead against the roof for a moment until a wave of nausea subsided. How could the McDonald’s smell still be lingering after four days? That was the last time she’d be eating junk food in her car. After a few breaths of fresh air, she felt a bit better and got in, winding her window down as far as the rain would allow before starting the engine.

She was already on the road to Rock before it occurred to her that she was about to replicate yesterday’s big mistake. She hadn’t signed out in the office or phoned her location in, and the last thing she needed right now was to give Georgia more ammunition. She pulled over and called Ricky.

‘Kit? Are you all right?’

‘Yes, fine. Sorry. Did I wake you?’

‘No, I’m up.’

‘OK, good, would you do me a favour?’

‘What now?’

She briefly considered telling him to forget it.

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