Now, she picked at the torn leather on the armchair as she thought about their first few days in the cottage. The unsettling silence as she had unpacked boxes. The stillness each time she looked out of the window. The black descent of night; and the relentless ticking and chiming of the grandfather clock in the hall. As she sat there, it was hard to imagine the throngs of people and traffic swirling around central London, an endlessly shifting kaleidoscope of colour and movement. The last week at the cottage had felt like the longest of Grace’s life. The six months she had promised Adam now lay interminably before them.
She looked at her watch. Where the hell were they? Adam’s car was out the front, so they couldn’t have gone far. Just the thought of the two of them made her heart quicken. Since Millie had been born her emotions seemed to bubble fierce and strange beneath her skin, threatening to spill over at any moment.
Her mobile rang and she fumbled around for it among the packing debris, snatching at it before it could ring out.
‘Gracie?’
‘Annabel,’ she sighed, sitting back down.
‘You could at least pretend to be pleased to hear from me,’ her sister grumbled. ‘Or have you forgotten about me already now you’ve moved to Timbuktu?’
‘Sorry, Bel, I’m getting a bit worried about Adam and Millie – they’ve been out since I got back from town. They should be back by now.’
Annabel laughed. ‘Grace, you’re such a worry wart. Adam’s probably chatting over a fencepost somewhere. You know he has to show Millie off to everyone. Stop panicking. Now, tell me when you’re coming back – you can’t become a country bumpkin forever. I miss you too much.’
Grace smiled at that. ‘You still don’t believe that I’ve moved away, do you? Come and see us, Bel. You never know, you might like it here.’
‘So you’re planning on staying then?’
‘Yes,’ Grace said, as emphatically as she could manage. She had never felt the need to pretend to Annabel before, but she was determined to give this move a chance. In truth, she missed her sister terribly, knew the feeling was mutual, and was afraid that Annabel would exploit any opportunity she saw to encourage them back to London.
‘Grace? Are you listening to me?’
She tuned back in to the voice on the other end of the line.
‘Sorry, what were you saying?’
‘I was asking you to tell me just what Yorkshire has that London doesn’t?’
‘Well, fresh air, for a start? And you can move without someone knocking you over and then swearing at you.’
‘Okay, okay,’ Annabel acquiesced. ‘Well, at least I don’t have to see you and Adam wandering around with soppy grins on your faces quite so often. It can get pretty sickening after a while, you know.’
Grace ignored the jibe. ‘Come for a visit, Bel – we’ve got a pub!’
‘Hmmm. I guess I might have to if you won’t come back. London misses you, though. I miss you.’
‘You shouldn’t have helped me pack everything up then.’
‘I know, I’m my own worst enemy.’
Grace smiled again distractedly as Annabel chattered away, getting up to gaze once more through the kitchen window. All was quiet. She walked slowly to the front of the cottage and glanced out into the dusky garden.
There was a dark shape on her doorstep. She couldn’t quite see it at this angle, or make out much in the shadows. She frowned, listening to Annabel reporting on her week as she headed to the front door. Once there, she twisted the key in the lock, pulled it open and stopped in shock.
In front of her was Millie’s pram. She peered inside, to find her ten-week-old daughter fast asleep, her cheeks rosy and cold, her tiny chest rising and falling steadily underneath the tightly tucked woollen coverlet.
Grace ran her fingers gently over her daughter’s forehead, then glanced around and said, ‘Adam?’
No one answered. She waited, watching her short breaths bursting into the frosty night air. She called a little louder, ‘Adam, where are you?’
Silence. Then she heard a small voice saying. ‘Grace? Grace?’
She looked down absently at the phone in her hand. She lifted it up to hear Annabel’s voice, alarmed. ‘Grace, what’s going on?’
‘I just found Millie asleep in her pram on the front doorstep,’ Grace said, her confusion growing with every word.
‘So they’re back then. See, I told you it would be fine.’
Grace stared out into the deepening darkness. ‘I’m not sure, Annabel. It’s only Millie here. There’s no sign of Adam.’
‘He must be caught up with something – he’ll be there in a second, I’m sure,’ Annabel reassured her.
But he wasn’t.
It waited in the shadows, golden orbs for eyes that burned with hellfire. A continuous low growl hummed in her ears. And then came the snarl and a frenzied flash of fangs.