Hidden by Catherine McKenzie

Author:Catherine McKenzie [McKenzie, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781443411929
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2013-06-27T16:00:00+00:00

I watch Claire run, and when I see what’s in the police officer’s hand, I want to run too. But I stay put, letting him pass me by, walk up the steps, knock on the door.

Only once he’s inside do I force myself to walk towards the house. I have a condolence card signed by the office with me. I will find the pile of them and add my card to the stack. I will do my duty and then I will leave. I will go back to my life, my family, my friends, like I’d already decided to do before any of this happened. I will try to put all of this behind me.

A woman with short greying hair wearing a black dress opens the front door. Claire’s sister, if my guess at the funeral was correct.

She looks distracted and angry. Over her shoulder I can see Claire leading the police officer into the den and closing the door behind them, but not quite completely.

“Fuck,” Claire’s sister mutters.

“Pardon?”

She shifts her attention to me. “Apologies. Were you trying to come in?”

No, no, no.

“Yes, I … wanted to leave a card.”

She takes a step back, leaving enough room for me to pass. We brush shoulders as I do, releasing the faint smell of gardenias. When it dissipates, the real smell of the place filters in. It’s not familiar, as I feared it might be, just the smell of too many bodies packed together, too much food. Sweat and cumin. Red wine and sausage. A store full of flowers.

“Were you … who are you?” she asks.

“I’m Tish. I work … worked with Jeff. The company sent me.”

“I’m Beth. Claire’s sister.” She closes the door and gives me a speck of her attention. “Your lot, they’re all in there.”

She motions to the living room to the left of the door, where I recognize a few faces. John Scott, of course, with an unhappy-looking woman at his side who must be his wife. The CEO and his very young wife. Others I’ve only seen in photographs. I feel light-headed at the prospect of going into that room, talking to those people, wondering if some rumour has reached them about me, if my presence there will bring it to mind, bring it to light.

“Are you all right?” Beth says.

“Yes, I … It’s been a long day. Could I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. It’s down there, on the left.”

I walk slowly past the guests clogging the hall, catching snippets of conversation focused on the police officer Claire is hidden away with.

“Do you think that’s …”

“What else could it be?”

“What’s wrong with him, bringing it here today?”

My thoughts exactly.

I stop in front of the bathroom’s closed door. I try the handle, but it’s locked.

“Someone’s in here!” a shrill voice admonishes me.

“Sorry!”

I lean against the wall, waiting my turn. The door Claire and the police officer disappeared behind is across the hall, slightly ajar.

I edge across the hall. Voices float out.

“… investigation?”

“It was an accident …”

More words, then silence, then a creak of the floor, heading towards the door I’m standing too close to.

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