Page 20 of Look What You Made Me Do

As though she could sum a person up in an instant.

The background was one of those innocuous backdrops from an old photographic studio but there was something special about the portrait. As if the person behind the camera had known the subjects and managed to capture the essence of the sisters – the similarities as well as the differences.

“I like this,” Jake murmured.

Standing beside him, Ella smiled softly at the picture. “That’s Daisy and Iris. Back in the day.”

Jake glanced at her. “You weren’t kidding about the circus thing, then?”

“Nope. They got out a decade before we turned up on their doorstep. Come on.” She gestured to the back door. “Come and meet them.”

He followed Ella out to the porch where the aroma of cigarette smoke hung in the air. Two frumpy gray-haired women sat at an old-fashioned table. There were bowls and cutlery in the center along with a large pitcher of water and several glasses.

Two tumblers half-filled with amber-colored liquid were placed in front of each aunt. A bottle of bourbon and an overflowing ashtray sat between. One shuffled a pack of tarot cards. The other held what appeared to be a large iPad.

Two pairs of eyes fell on him. Age had grayed and frizzed their long dark locks, there were wrinkles around eyes and mouths, their bosoms were ample and their laps generous. But they were unmistakably the same women from the portrait.

The one with the cards gave him a dreamy smile while the other one, her tattoos still vibrantly colored and on full display, looked at him shrewdly.

Several dogs – not Cerberus – who were lolling on the floorboards, lifted their heads and thumped their tails against the boards. At the far end of the table sat Rosie who leaped up and gave him an enthusiastic hug. “Jake! I’m so pleased Ella invited you back for curry. Simon will be here soon and I’ll dish up.”

Jake glanced at Ella, who gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “Er, thanks, but I can’t stay for long. I have to get back to the bar.”

“I take it we have you to thank for the dog?” said the tattooed one in her two-pack-a-day voice, indicating the back yard where Cerberus was making himself at home by methodically lifting his leg on every tree, bush, rock and blade of grass.

Genghis followed after the smaller dog, peeing over the top of the newcomer’s wet spots.

“Yes.” He smiled at the older woman. “That’s Cerberus.”

She nodded. “And you’re Jake.”

Ella introduced him to Daisy and Jake felt an instant rapport. There was an astuteness to her that reminded him of his own great aunt – Thelma – who’d raised him for many years after his mother’s desertion.

She’d died of a heart attack when he’d been twelve and he’d missed her every damn day since.

“You know what an eight-letter word for storm is?” Daisy asked. “Starts with a B.”

“Oh…” Jake drew a blank. “Sorry, no.”

Daisy hmphed as she returned her attention to the device. If it was a test, Jake had definitely failed but he didn’t have any time to ponder that as Ella introduced him to Iris.

“You’re a Sagittarius, aren’t you?” she asked as they shook hands, her fingers devoid of the rings from the portrait but her wrists still sporting dozens of fine silver bangles.

Jake smiled at the woman with the dreamy voice. “Yep.”

Just then, the dogs leaped up and started barking in unison. “That’ll be Simon,” Rosie announced giving a little jiggle as she departed quickly, a pack of excitable dogs on her heel – Cerberus included.

Rosie was back quickly with a guy in tow. He looked a little younger than her and reeked of old money from his preppy haircut to his expensive threads which were currently covered in dog hair. In his hand he clutched a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers and was clearly nervous.

He didn’t look like he’d ever ventured this far south.

“So this is Simon?” Daisy said, eyeing tonight’s second virgin sacrifice. “Come here. Give me a proper look at you.”

Simon walked closer and Rosie introduced them.

“Bit young for you isn’t he, Gypsy-Rose?” Daisy commented, looking him up and down.

Simon shot a glance at Rosie, who was grinning affectionately at her curmudgeonly aunt. “I believe age is irrelevant,” he said politely.

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