The Marsh House by Zoe Somerville

Author:Zoe Somerville [Somerville, Zoë]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781838934675
Publisher: Head of Zeus

25

The Dog

It wasn’t until she noticed that her fingers, clenched around the cigarette, were damp and her face was stinging that she realised she’d been crying again. It could have been the wind, all the way over the North Sea from the Soviet steppe, but it wasn’t. Bizarrely, her watch told her it was twenty past three and she swallowed, wiped her eyes and gathered herself, put her gloves on and hurried back up the empty street. She had to tell Franny the truth about her father, get it over with.

The night fell as she drove. Soon the headlights created two small tunnels in the darkness. On either side of the road, hedges were fringed with snow which blazed white at her when the headlights swept over them. She would put Franny’s presents under the tree; she would drink whisky, brandy, whatever she had to numb herself. It would be all right. But with each mile passed she had the sinking sense of what was to come. Of ruining her daughter’s Christmas, of Franny hating her, of the empty flat in London.

The temperature in the car plummeted and she huddled inside her fur.

When the lane finally appeared, she murmured, ‘Thank God.’

As she swung into the entrance to the Marsh House, the car slid from under her. The trees loomed at the start of the driveway.

‘Christ,’ she said, and tried to straighten up the wheel. She squeezed the muscles in her face tight in concentration and her arms strained to control the car. Don’t try to control it, she heard Tony in her head. Drive into it.

It was too late. The branches were coming fast towards her. She was going to overshoot and hit them. But just at the last second, miraculously, the car missed the trees. It skidded and carried on skidding. She was going to crash. She gripped the wheel and braced for impact. Then ahead, something black. An animal, a shadow. A screech of the tyres. For a second she couldn’t see. Blinded, she thought she heard a thump from somewhere, maybe a cry. It might have been her own. The car came to a sliding halt at the front of the house.

She had no idea what had happened.

For a minute she just sat, breathing heavily. Immediately, she was back a few days ago on the evening they’d arrived, when she’d swerved and crashed into the hedge. The same sense of disorientation overcame her now. The headlights were still on, shining up at the house. It was in darkness apart from a single vertical yellow line from between the curtains on the second floor and the faint glowing orbs from the candles on the tree in the living room. Something moved behind her and she snapped her head round. There was nothing but darkness. But there had been – something black and white.

Still shaking from the near miss, she emptied the boot of the supplies and carried them into the house.

Franny appeared in the hall. ‘Larry got funny and ran into the garden but he hasn’t come back –’ Her face collapsed.

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