Page 5 of Vendetta
‘Are you sure, Celine? She seems so exhausted. She’s a shadow of what a sixteen-year-old girl should look like. She should be out in the sun, getting a tan. She used to be such a pretty little thing.’
Seriously?I would have responded with bitchiness-in-kind but the honey was sticking my teeth together.
My mother released a small sigh – a speciality of hers. It was ambiguous enough to mean anything to anyone – ‘I’m tired/happy/disappointed’ – but I had a feeling it was intended to politely draw the topic to a close.
Fighting the urge to take my coffee and run, I turned around and seated myself firmly at the kitchen table, dragging the chair legs against the floor as noisily as I could and revelling in the look of discomfort on Mrs Bailey’s face.
OK, lady. Let’s go. ‘I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.’ The laboured, honey-laden words masked the sarcasm in my voice. I took my first, glorious sip of coffee and felt the steam rise up and warm my nose.
‘Well actually, youdid.’
Quelle surprise. I always seemed to be interrupting Mrs Bailey’s ground-breaking news bulletins.
‘I was just telling your mother that a new family have moved into the Priestly house on Lockwood Avenue.’
I was utterly shocked by my unexpected interest in anything Mrs Bailey had to say. But suddenly there I was, glued to Cedar Hill’s resident gossip merchant like she was about to announce the finale plot of my favourite TV show. An onslaught of questions formed inside my brain.Where do they come from? How are they related to the Priestlys? Why are you wearing that crazy pink suit?
‘Well, I bet it will be good to have some new faces around the neighbourhood,’ my mother interjected before I could begin.
The old lady shook her head like she was having a seizure. She leant across the table and looked pointedly at each of us in turn as if calling for our undivided attention, which she knew she already had. She dropped her voice. ‘You know I have the gift of sight, Celine. I’ve been seeing things ever since I was a child…’
I had to blow into my coffee to hide my smirk.
‘I was walking by the old Priestly place a couple of weeks ago and I got the most unsettling feeling. When I saw the renovations and the moving vans, it all started to make sense. The house is full again and I justknowit’s not good.’
‘Maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,’ my mother offered. I could tell by the airiness in her voice that her attention was beginning to wander. She started to pick at a stray thread in her capri pants, frowning.
I considered telling Mrs Bailey to chill out too, but she had already redirected her gaze towards our backyard as if shewere looking into another secret dimension. But in reality, she was just staring at the potted plant on the windowsill. She squinted her eyes and sighed, probably noticing it was dead.
‘Nothing good will come of having five young men making trouble in the neighbourhood, because that’sexactlywhat they’ll do, Celine. You mark my words.’
She shook her head again, but every cropped white strand of hair remained perfectly static, like they were frozen in place.
‘Wait, did you sayfiveguys?’ I had already seen two of them. Well, one of them, sort of. The second one had knocked me over. I frowned at the memory. Even after a night of reflection, I still wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Mrs Bailey was, of course, scandalized by my interest. Her mouth was bobbing open and closed, like she was trying to find the exact words for how much of a disgrace I was. ‘Five young,troublesomemen,’ she heaved at last, clutching at her chest for added effect. ‘I saw them move in and I can tell you, they do not seem like the respectable type.’
Isn’t that what you said about my father?I wanted to ask, but I stopped myself. The argument wouldn’t be worth it. It never was. And besides, I had gotten all the info I needed: there was a new family of boys in the neighbourhood. Millie was going to keel over with happiness when I told her.
Distracted, I got up to take my half-filled mug to the sink. ‘I think having new neighbours is pretty cool.’
‘What’scoolabout it?’ Mrs Bailey threw the question at my back like a dagger.
I turned around. ‘What’snotcool about it? Nobody ever comes to Cedar Hill willingly. This place is so boring. It feels like any minute now we’re all just going to fossilize.’Maybe some ofus already have…I stopped myself again.
‘There’s no need to be so dramatic,’ she returned.
I blinked hard to suppress an inadvertent eye roll.
‘I’m sure those boys are perfectly fine,’ reasoned my mother, who was rifling through her sewing kit. I could tell she was more interested in finding a needle to fix the single thread on the capri pants that had betrayed her.
Mrs Bailey was still wearing a frown that was beginning to twitch from the effort of keeping it in place. ‘No, Celine, there’s something not right about it. That house has been empty for too long. And we all know the reason.’
‘Ghosts,’ I whispered dramatically. I wanted to add an ‘Oooooo’, but I figured that might be going too far.
Mrs Bailey rose abruptly from her chair, shrugging on her shawl in a show of clumsy indignation. When she spoke again, her voice was low. ‘You can make jokes all you like, Persephone, but you just better be careful.’
I glanced at my mother and was surprised to find that she had returned her attention to our conversation.
