Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

It was early when I woke the next morning. Instead of the hot coffee and fresh pastries I'd found the day before, there was only a note waiting for me on the kitchen table. Catherine would be out all day and breakfast was in the refrigerator. My hands were shaking as I opened the fridge to find a glass of orange juice, some Greek yoghurt with honey and a bowl of freshly cut fruit.

Something was wrong with me, I was sure of that now, and it wasn't the heat, the humidity or the jetlag. I remembered sitting down for dinner and my grandmother telling me the story of how the first Emma Catherine came to Savannah but what my memory insisted happened next didn't make any sense. I couldn't even remember how I got to bed, everything after dinner was a blur.

I sipped the juice and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, leaving the rest of it behind. My stomach felt as uncertain as I did. There was one theory that kept coming back. Wolves were wild animals, wild animals carried diseases, and no matter how many times Catherine told me it was all OK, I couldn't stop thinking about all that blood.

The library was cool and calm and completely silent or at least it was until the click and whir of the ancient computer bounced off the bookshelves. It was like a clap of thunder in the peace and quiet and I winced at the endless leatherbound spines in apology. Everyone always told me how smart I was, how capable, but I didn't feel too smart at the moment, only confused and afraid. I needed answers and I needed them now, there was no time to plough through all of Catherine's ancient books when I could type my symptoms into a search engine and get results right away. Upstairs, I had my dad's laptop squirrelled away in my backpack but without Wi-Fi, it was no use. The screen of the desktop computer came to life slowly, one bar of green blinking against a grey progress bar as the dial-up connection screeched its way down the phone line.

‘Come on,' I muttered, the progress bar flickering for a second then starting all over again.

‘Don't get too excited, it never connects.'

Ashley stood in the doorway, holding two cups in one hand, a plate of cookies in the other.

‘You scared me,' I said, my heart pounding with surprise.

‘And I wasn't even trying,' she replied.

She sauntered into the library, closing the door behind her and placing the plate of cookies and one of the mugs down on the desk. Great, I was trapped. But at least I was trapped with hot tea and cookies.

‘I had the phone company out to see if we could get fibre optic broadband but they would have had to drill all through the house and run cables down from the street and Catherine wouldn't allow it.'

‘There's literally no way to connect a computer to the internet in this entire house? You only have your cell phone?' I asked, clicking the mouse again and again just in case.

‘I don't have a cell phone.' Ashley shrugged off my look of disbelief as she settled on an old leather couch, cradling the other mug of tea. ‘They say the less time people spend online, the happier they are. You should try it.'

‘It's not like I'm constantly online,' I replied, still shaken by her revelation. ‘But the internet is useful for a million reasons, phones are useful for a million reasons. What if there's an emergency or you really need to find the nearest Starbucks?'

She glared at me, unimpressed.

‘Something tells me our definition of an emergency might be very different.'

‘I didn't say finding Starbucks was an emergency,' I muttered, even though sometimes it definitely was. ‘There are other important reasons to have a phone, like keeping in touch with people. Like Anwen. I really should let her know I'm OK.'

‘The woman you were staying with in Wales?' Ashley gave a slight scoff. ‘You don't need to speak to her. Catherine took care of her.'

It was news to me.

‘She did? When? What did she say?'

‘I don't know, I don't take notes on her private conversations. Catherine is not the kind of woman who will run things by you before she does them so don't waste your time thinking that she might.'

She pointed towards the cup and the plate she'd placed on my desk. ‘And you're welcome, by the way.'

‘Thank you. Did you make them?'

She nodded as I picked up one of the cookies and broke it in two, half expecting to find a razorblade baked inside, but there was nothing but chocolate chips. Still suspicious, I took a tiny bite. As far as peace offerings went, it was a good one. Crunchy on the outside, soft and warm on the inside, the perfect ratio of chocolate chips, sea salt, cinnamon, and something almost herbal I couldn't quite put my finger on. Even though I was useless in the kitchen, when it came to cookie recipes I was an expert. But I couldn't quite figure this one out. Just like Ashley.

‘Can I ask you something?' I said, covering my mouth while I chewed.

‘What?'

‘How come you call Catherine "Catherine" and not "Mom"?'

She shucked off her shoes and stretched her legs out along the couch, head propped up on a pillow like she was preparing for a therapy session.

‘Can't really say,' she replied before taking a sip from her cup. ‘"Mom" never felt right and I find people who call their mother "Mother" to their face are almost always straight-up strange, so I started calling her Catherine like everybody else. There wasn't ever any kind of rush to correct me. Could be it makes her feel younger. She sure won't be begging you to start calling her Grandmother any time soon, believe me.'

‘She does look good for her age,' I admitted as I caught the outline of my reflection in the computer monitor. ‘I hope I inherited those genes.'

A bitter chuckle escaped Ashley's lips. ‘I'd bet my bottom dollar on it, although I can't say you're looking your best today.'

‘Then I look as good as I feel.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

Her expression shifted to something more curious, a glimmer of interest in her eyes, and I pressed my top teeth into my bottom lip. How much did I want to tell her?

‘I'm not sure how to explain it,' I said, not ready to share with her, not yet. ‘Just feeling off, I guess.'

She grunted as she lay back down, almost like she was disappointed. ‘Drink your tea, it'll fix almost anything.'

‘Must be magic tea then.' Maybe if she knew I'd been playing blood brothers with a potentially rabid animal, she might've shown more concern.

‘Better?' she asked as I sipped from the cup.

‘Yes.' The silky liquid slipped down my throat to soothe my frayed nerves, sweet and comforting.

‘Swell,' Ashley remarked. ‘Like you said, must be magic.'

I picked up another cookie and closed my eyes to savour the taste. It was hard not to inhale the entire plate, they were so incredibly good. She might not be the world's best conversationalist but my aunt definitely had a future as a cook. Everything she touched was delicious.

‘I have another question,' I said.

‘Sure you do,' she replied.

‘I don't mean to be rude …'

‘… Which means you're about to be incredibly rude. What is it you want to know?'

‘What do you do?' I asked. The colour rose in my cheeks as the words left my mouth. She was right, it was rude. ‘For work, I mean. Do you have a job?'

Her green eyes glowed in the dim light of the library, her long brown braid coiled over her shoulder like a pet snake.

‘I'm a caretaker.'

‘A caretaker?' I repeated. ‘Taking care of what?'

‘Whatever needs taking care of.'

She stood abruptly, her movements startlingly fast and fluid as she walked over to one of the bookshelves. I stayed perfectly still as she casually pulled out a book at random, read the front and back covers then put it back on a completely different shelf, spine in, pages out. The chaos of it would've given my dad a panic attack. No wonder this library didn't make any sense.

‘I know everything must be real strange for you right now,' she said, reshelving another undeserving book in the wrong place. ‘But look at it from my perspective. A complete stranger just moved into my house and changed everything I've ever known. Catherine might be all excited to have you here but don't expect me to roll out the red carpet.'

‘I don't expect anything—' I started to say but she cut me off before I could even try.

‘No one cared about me until Paul disappeared. I was the spare, second to the golden child, until you were born. After that, I could have dissolved into dust and no one would have noticed. Then Paul vanishes and it's all eyes on Ashley. One second I'm invisible, the next I couldn't even sneeze without Catherine wanting a full written report on how, why, when, and where.'

‘I'm sorry,' I said quietly. ‘I didn't know.'

She turned quickly, spinning on the heel of her pointed shoe.

‘You didn't know because your precious daddy was a selfish asshole.'

A sharp, sudden burning sensation sprang to life in my chest. Anger. I was angry. It wasn't a feeling I was used to.

‘How can you say that?' The rage in my voice rattled my bones and echoed off the walls of the library. ‘My dad was an incredible man.'

Ashley's lips twisted into something ugly. ‘You're going to defend him when he dragged you all over the world, when you could've grown up here, with all of this? When he lied to you about everything? Me, Catherine, Bell House. Even your own name?'

‘He had his reasons,' I replied, my fury simmering down to a confused frustration. ‘You didn't even know him.'

‘He was my brother before he was your father,' she reminded me. ‘Paul never wanted anything to do with me when I was a kid. Did you know, when he was supposed to be babysitting, your incredible dad would lock me in my room so he could hang out with his friends instead?'

‘He was a teenager,' I said, defensive but chastened. ‘Teenagers do dumb things.'

‘No, dumb people do dumb things,' Ashley snapped. ‘He wasn't a teenager when he stole you away, when he left me behind without a second thought.'

If looks could kill, I'd have struck her down on sight. I looked away, just in case, and stuffed another cookie into my mouth to stop myself from saying anything I might regret. I was angry because she was right. He did lie. He did leave her behind. I couldn't defend what my dad had done and now he'd never be able to give us his side of the story.

‘Paul was a selfish, uncaring, wicked man and I'm not sorry he's dead,' Ashley pronounced. ‘As far as I can tell, there's only one downside to his accident and I'm looking at it.'

Stunned, I swallowed and opened my mouth to speak but as I tried to inhale, a chunk of cookie got stuck in my throat. I coughed, trying to clear it, but instead of moving down, the blockage seemed to grow, stabbing at the soft tissue and closing my airways, just as at the Powell house. I clutched at my throat and doubled over in my chair, beginning to panic as my lungs burned, but Ashley stayed where she was, fingers twitching at her sides, watching. She wasn't going to help me.

This time it all happened more quickly. The edges of my vision turned grey and fuzzy as I was drawn backwards, then, all of a sudden, I could breathe just fine. I was still in the library but Ashley was gone and in her place, I saw my dad and, when I turned towards the door, my mother.

‘I didn't want to wake you,' he said, the warmth of his love filling the room. ‘How do you feel?'

She came inside and closed the door quietly, her eyes never leaving my face. She was beautiful, even more beautiful than she looked in the only photographs I had. A perfect heart-shaped face and a wide, angelic smile, but that smile didn't last long. When she turned her attention to my dad, her gentle expression transformed into something uneasy.

‘Fine now but something's wrong. I've never blacked out before and last night makes it three times in one week. I'm serious, Paul, I think we need to get away from Savannah. Just for a little while, just until I'm myself again. Think of it as a vacation.'

Her voice again, the same sweet tones I'd heard the day before but roughened with an edge of exhaustion. She looked tired with dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. Tears poured down my cheeks but when I tried to call her name, all that came out was a cry.

‘Looks like Emma agrees with you,' Dad replied, picking me up and cradling me in his arms. ‘OK, let's go. I'll talk to my mom tonight.'

The scene clouded over and everything faded to black before bringing me right back to the present. The blockage in my throat gave way and I reached for what was left of my tea but it did nothing to soothe the raw burning sensation in my throat. On the plate, in among the crumbs, I saw a sharp splinter of something woody sticking out of one of the cookies. The sort of thing that could easily get stuck in someone's throat.

‘What the hell?' I croaked, staring at my aunt in shock.

‘That will teach you not to speak with your mouth full,' she replied. ‘It's bad manners. Or did your perfect daddy not teach you that?'

With something like a triumphant smile, she sailed out of the library, leaving me with watering eyes and shaking hands. I might not be any closer to working out what was happening to me but at least now I knew how Ashley really felt about my arrival.

It wasn't only wolves, blackouts and hallucinations I had to worry about.