‘You’ve been quiet this morning,’ Josh remarked when he came over to her desk mid-morning. ‘Is everything OK?’

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

‘Everything’s fine,’ she said in a thin voice. ‘I just didn’t sleep very well.’

‘Ah, I see. You’re living in… Wollaton, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right,’ she said, wondering how he knew.

‘I overheard you telling the other sales staff when you first started,’ he said, reading her mind. ‘It’s nice and quiet in that neck of the woods. Me and the wife would like to move there ready for us to start a family, hopefully in the next year or so, but we haven’t a hope in hell of paying those prices.’

How refreshing to hear him mention his wife. Holly couldn’t help wondering what sort of a life the poor woman had with him.

‘I’m just lodging… well, visiting there, I suppose.’ She hesitated. ‘Josh, have you seen anything of Emily since she resigned?’

If Josh knew where Holly lived, maybe Emily did too. Worse still, they might be in touch.

He frowned but showed no sign of discomfort. ‘Nope. Don’t really expect to see her again. Why?’

Holly had no intention of explaining to Josh that she thought Emily might have been outside the window watching her; it would make her sound totally paranoid. And now she knew about their affair, she could never trust him again.

‘I… I just wondered if she lived in the city… whether we’d see her around.’

‘She does live in the city, in an apartment near Weekday Cross, if I recall. Don’t think you’ll see her around this end of town again, though. Knowing Emily, she’ll have invented a whole new life for herself already.’

Weekday Cross was central, nowhere near Wollaton. If Emily had been lurking around at the bottom of Cora’s garden, it would be quite a way for her to come at such an unsociable hour.

Josh went on his way and Holly sat staring out of the window, scanning each passer-by. She couldn’t do this all day long or it would draw attention. She’d have to tear herself away from her desk at some point.

It was interesting that Josh had said Emily would invent a new life for herself.

Perhaps she and Holly were more alike than Holly had first thought.

---

She had no way of telling how long she’d been unconscious after the dinner that night.

She remembered resting her head back on soft leather and closing her eyes. The next thing she knew, she’d snapped awake, sat bolt upright, now in her own bed, and promptly vomited all over the quilt.

When she’d stopped being sick, she had a compulsion to shield her eyes from the daylight with a shaking forearm.

‘Let’s get you out of bed,’ a voice had said. It sounded far away at first, and then too close and too loud in her ears. ‘Patricia, could you change the bed, please, while I sponge Holly down?’

Holly had squinted at Geraldine and registered Patricia’s unimpressed scowl as the housekeeper began to unceremoniously pull the soiled sheet from under her.

‘She had far too much to drink last night, I’m afraid, Patricia,’ Geraldine had said in a disapproving tone. ‘Won’t listen to advice, will they, young people? They don’t know when to stop.’

Had she been drinking last night?

Holly sensed powerful negative memories and had a strong sense of foreboding. Yet she couldn’t quite grasp the pictures that floated around inside her head like strings of fog. She couldn’t remember any detail at all.

Foolishly, she’d tried to stand up briefly and immediately swooned, before Geraldine caught her and helped Patricia to lower her onto the dressing table stool.

‘Holly. Tell me, sweetie, how are you feeling?’ Geraldine had gripped her shoulders and spoken very softly and slowly, pressing her face too close for comfort.

Holly had retched again and Geraldine had grabbed some kind of container, held it under her chin.

More yellowish-looking bile had spewed out, burning her mouth and throat.

Geraldine had mopped her mouth with tissues.

‘Better out than in,’ she had said pleasantly.

---

The bus journey home from work had quickly become Holly’s thinking time.

Not that thinking was always useful. Particularly the awful memories she’d dredged up lately, reliving the horror that had happened at Medlock Hall.

She supposed it was inevitable that her old life would take the opportunity to creep up when it could and cosh her with the memories she’d tried so hard to bury alive. They were always going to push back until Holly had put things right.

Most days, she looked forward to getting back home. While Cora prepared tea, Holly often took a relaxing bath to help prepare her for the ear-aching hour or so during which the older woman, having been alone for most of the day, would regale her with any gossip she’d overheard at the local shop or, more likely, more endless anecdotes from her past.

Holly had managed to dodge the last few sessions, but she knew that she’d do well to remind herself that she felt safe living with Cora. And that meant doing what was required to cement her place there.