Page 6 of One Last Touch

There was a slightly yellowed white fridge standing in the corner of the large kitchen, bare except for a carton of eggs, the last of the cheese, a small pint of milk that had expired weeks ago, and two grapefruits. That settled things for me—my mother hadn’t just been visiting the cemetery coincidentally or popping into the house. The earl grey, the soap, the grapefruits that she liked to eat for breakfast in the morning… she had stayed here. For how long, I couldn’t be sure and it seemed like maybe Sage and Ms Weathers didn’t want me to know—why else wouldn’t they answer my questions? I didn’t know why, but they weren’t telling me the truth.

“Did she stay here long? Before…” I still couldn’t bring myself to put it into words, as if hearing them aloud would somehow make it more real than inside my head.

Ms Weathers jumped, despite the fact that she had been watching me keenly ever since I’d arrived downstairs. “Who, dear?”

My jaw tightened and I gave myself a moment to unclench before saying as pleasantly as I was able, “My mother.”

“I don’t think—”

“Please don’t lie to me. Please.”

Sage looked up at me, his face was unreadable but soft and I looked away uncomfortably. “A few weeks.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

I tightened my hands around the top of the wooden chair that was tucked into the rough-hewn table. “Thank you.”

Sage continued to watch me quietly, offering nothing more until the stillness of the air began to unnerve me.

“Is there a car or something I can use to get into town? I need to grab a few things.”

‘No, dear—” Ms Weather’s said just as Sage stood and nodded and I raised my eyebrows, looking between the two of them.

“Follow me.”

“Do you need anything?” I asked her before I followed Sage out of the room. “From town,” I explained and some emotion crossed her face too quickly for me to understand it.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, love. There’s nothing I need.”

I gave her a nod and a small smile before walking out and finding Sage waiting by the front door. I pulled on my furry winter boots and coat and followed him out of the house and around to the left-hand side. We hadn’t explored here yesterday. I still had so much to see at Alswell, still trying to understand its rhythms and routines, but despite the cold shower and creaky floors, I’d slept better last night than I had in days.

Sage managed to walk quietly across the dirt and gravel that was unevenly scattered throughout the driveway, leading us to an open-ended barn attached to the side of the house. A truck sat inside, covered in a white sheet as though it were in mourning, as left behind in this place as everything else.

“Whose is it?”

“Mine.”

I looked at him in surprise and he shrugged. “I don’t get away from the house often. You’re more than welcome to use it, in fact I’d encourage you to do so.”

“Still trying to convince me to leave?” I joked, strolling forward and tugging the sheet off, chucking it in the back of the small bed. It had a cover that slid over the depth of the truck, so I could easily fit several bags of shopping in the back without having to crowd myself too much in the two-seater front of the truck.

“You would be a fool to stay, there’s nothing for you here.” His golden brown hair seemed to catch the light as he walked around to face me over the top of the truck.

I decided to ignore him, he would eventually get the message that I was here to stay. If he had a problem with it then he could be the one to leave.

“Do you and Ms Weathers stay on site?”

“You can call her Angelica, you know.”

I folded my arms across my chest and wrinkled my nose. “It feels wrong.”

A flash of humour lifted his mouth and brows before he hid it. “I can see why. You’re what, eighteen? Nineteen?”

I snorted as I tugged open the door to the driver’s side and found the key in the ignition. “Old enough to be your boss,” I said sweetly and then followed it up with, “I’ll be twenty-one in February.”

“So young.”

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