Disturbance by Jenna Clake

Author:Jenna Clake
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Published: 2023-05-19T00:00:00+00:00

Nine

Then, Saturday morning. The first day of August. Sun streaming through the windows ; light on my face, wherever I went, even when I closed the blinds. Dust floating through the living room. I moved warily around the flat, waiting. The flat groaning, clicking, swelling in response. The power had returned to the Walkers’ flat (I could hear Liz vacuuming, Mark watching the football), but remained off in my own. I checked the fuse board, flipped all the switches back and forth, and suddenly everything came back on, purring.

I had no plans and, exhausted from the week, felt little motivation for anything. I opened Instagram on my phone, and scrolled through photos I’d seen before. I passed through profiles like a ghost, frightened that a movement – one accidental like – would reveal me to the world. I worried that my boyfriend was searching for my name and had found my reinstated profile. I knew him well. One image of a distinctive tree, the name of a shop, a telling reflection, and he’d find me. I should have made a fake account, I knew, but I hadn’t thought of this when I’d first been searching for Chelsea. I told myself I wasn’t doing anything wrong, or dangerous – I just had to be invisible.

There were no new posts on Chelsea’s profile, which, considering the night before, made sense, but worried me. I wondered if she was okay, and what happened when a candle-carving spell went wrong. Would she be unwell, like me, and need help? I couldn’t knock on the door when her parents were at home.

On Jess’s profile, there was a new post, a pale pink square, with black text: YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO CHASE WHAT WANTS TO STAY WITH YOU. Underneath, she’d written, So true, with a black heart emoji. A message for Chelsea, I thought, who had not liked or commented on the post.

Joseph had uploaded a photo of himself posing with his car, half-sitting on the bonnet. The caption: get in loser. I closed the tab in disgust.

In the afternoon, Mark and Liz appeared in the corridor again, facing each other, leaning up against the wall. I watched through the peephole as Liz folded her arms.

‘What did you tell her?’ she said.

‘That we’re going out for the day.’

‘For God’s sake.’

‘It’s the truth.’

‘She can tell we’re lying, you know.’

‘I know,’ Mark said. ‘But I don’t want to have to tell her. We should do it together, after the appointment with the person.’

‘You mean the therapist,’ said Liz.

‘Yeah,’ said Mark.

Liz sighed, and peeled herself away from the wall. She walked to the stairs, and Mark slowly followed.

Later, Chelsea tapped on the door. I looked at her through the peephole first. She was beaming, wearing make-up. She had curled her hair and was wearing a summer dress. Around her neck hung a large pink crystal. I reviewed my own outfit – an oversized white T-shirt, and loose, cotton shorts I sometimes slept in – and knew I should make more of an effort.

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