Page 38 of Rock Paper Scissors
“And what happened when she did?”
“She stared at me for a long time, then just walked right up to the window, as close as I am to you now. Still carrying the fat white rabbit,ifthat’s what it was. Then she pulled the curtains shut.”
ROBIN
Robin didn’t just pull one set of curtains; she closed them all.
She blows out every candle too—there were only a handful, not hundreds, but men are predisposed to exaggeration—then she sits in the dark, waiting for her heart to stop beating so fast. It never occurred to her that someone would be rude enough to trespass on her property or walk around the back uninvited—peering in through the glass as if she were an animal in a zoo. The curtains aren’t really curtains at all—they are secondhand bedsheets nailed above the windows. She notices the yellow tinge of pipe smoke on the threadbare fabric. It used to be white. But it doesn’t matter what somethingusedto be, so long as it does the job. And things don’t need to be beautiful to serve a purpose. Robin might not be pretty anymore, but she has every right to be here.
Not like them.
Robin used to sit in the dark, just like this, when she was scared as a child. It was an all too regular occurrence. She does what she did then to try to calm herself down: crossing her legs, closing her eyes, then focusing on her breathing. Slow, deep, breaths. In andout. In… and… out. At least it was onlyhimwho saw her, that’s something to be glad about.
It seems obvious now that she thinks about it—of course the visitors would come here looking for help—she’s just annoyed that they managed to catch her off guard.
Robin wonders what they must be thinking now.
This is hardly a normal situation for any of them, far from it, and she expects that the stress and fear must be starting to take its toll. Married couples always think they know their partners better than anyone else—especially when they have a couple of years under their belts—but that doesn’t mean it is true. Robin knows things about both of them that she is certain they do not know about each other.
She sawhimlooking at the rabbit on her lap, with a mixture of horror and disgust on his face. But Oscar the rabbit is her only companion these days. Like her, he is a creature of habit, and always tends to jump up on the armchair after his breakfast of grass, fresh vegetables, or—when the snow comes—tinned jars of baby food. At least he’s real, unlike the charactersAdam Wrightmakes up inside his head and spends allhistime with. Mr.Wrightis sometimes wrong. Robin will not be judged by these people.
She crawls toward the front of the cottage on all fours avoiding the windows. She needs to know whether the visitors have gone yet—there is so much to do and so little time. But they haven’t. Gone. So she slides down to sit with her ear against the sealed-up letter box, still holding the rabbit, stroking its fur. It is surreal to hearthemtalking about her on the other side of the door. They might not know who she is, but Robin knows whotheyare. She invited them here after all, even if they don’t realize it yet.
They will soon enough.
AMELIA
“We should try knocking again,” I say.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Adam replies. “She looked like a nutter.”
“Shh! She can probably hear you; this place isn’t double glazed. How do you know it was a woman?”
He shrugs. “Long hair?”
Sometimes Adam’s inability to recognize features on faces is more annoying than others.
“If itisa woman,” I say, “then maybeIshould try talking to her. I don’t see any other buildings nearby, she might be the only one who can help us.”
“What if she doesn’twantto help us?” Adam whispers.
I’m already freezing, but I feel colder than I did before when he says that. I think about the October O’Brien newspaper clippings he found stuffed inside one of the kitchen drawers at the chapel and I feel sick. It’s such a long time ago now, but Adam worked with the actress before what happened, happened, and I sometimes still wonder—
“Do you think she might be who you saw outside the window last night?” he whispers.
I shrug and it turns into a shiver. Relieved a little that at least he believes me about that now. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“How would I know? I didn’t see what you saw, and we both know I wouldn’t be able to recognize them again even if I did.”
“Well, was the person you saw just now fat or thin? Old or young?”
“Medium build I guess, and she had long gray hair.”
“So, old then?”
“Maybe.”
“I wonder if she is the housekeeper?”
