“Fine, be that way.” I half walked, half ran to Ruby’s front door and
knocked a little more harshly than I’d intended. Then I turned and watched
the street just in case the red sports car returned.
Footsteps echoed through the house, and I heard the groan of the
staircase’s wood flexing. Then the door opened, and Ruby stood in the
entryway, her hair a mess and smudges of paint over her chin. She looked
genuinely surprised to see me. “Jo! ”
“Hey.” I felt too rattled for niceties. “A guy just came by my house,
asking for you. I told him I didn’t know you, like you asked, but as he was
leaving, he stopped and stared at that pot for ages.” I waved towards the
letterbox. “Is that… okay?”
I already knew it wasn’t. Her face had fallen as I spoke, and terror lit up
her blue eyes. As I mentioned the pot, she clasped her hands to her head and
moaned.
“No, no, I’m such an idiot, I—”
“All right, it’s okay. Tell me what to do.”
“It’s Raul. He knows. He’ll remember the pot. I’m such an idiot. I’ve got
to—I’ve got to—” She pushed past me and ran down the driveway.
I followed at a distance. “What do you want me to do, Ruby? Can I call
someone?”
“No.” She grabbed the pot’s edge and began dragging it towards the
house. It was heavy and dug up clumps of the long-dead grass. I hurried to
grab the other side, and together, we lifted it.
“Get it around the back,” Ruby gasped. “Where no one can see it. I
shouldn’t have put it out the front. It just looked so bare and dead—”
She’d planted a small shrub in the pot, but its leaves were already curling
and brown.
We staggered under the planter’s weight as we carried it down the side of
the house, and finally dropped it beside the back door. We were both
breathing heavily from the exertion. Ruby collapsed onto the back step andput her head in her hands.
Sitting next to Ruby, I tried not to look at the mound of small bones, still
visible at the end of the yard. “He’s your ex?” I guessed.
She nodded. “Raul.” She lifted her head and wiped tear tracks off her
cheeks. Her lips were white and her eyes rimmed red. “I don’t want to ever
see him again. But he’s… he’s obsessive. He wants to own me. I knew he’d
look for me when I left. That’s why I was so desperate to get a house quickly;
he’s the kind of guy who would stake out the women’s shelters—but I didn’t
think he’d find me this easily.”
“You should get a restraining order,” I said.
“Got one. The problem with restraining orders is they can only help you
after they’ve been breached.”
“Oh.” I took a closer look at her. A hint of discolouration was visible on
her forearm where the cardigan had slipped down. My stomach turned over.
“Can you move to a different house?”
“No.” She stared at the ground ahead of her, but her voice was hollow.
“Can’t afford to. I spent everything I’d saved on a deposit for this place. Even
if I could sell it—and I doubt I could, if it had been on the market for eight
months before I found it—it won’t be enough to get me any other sort of safe
house.”
I scuffed my shoes together. “He doesn’t know you live here for certain.”
“He recognised the pot.”
“Yes, but I bet lots of people have pots like that. And he left, which
means he has enough uncertainty not to confront you.”
She rubbed the back of her hand over her nose. “He’ll come back. I know
him. I lived with him for five years. Once he decides he wants something, he
won’t give up until he gets it.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment. I wished I could have
done more—called the police while he was still there or punched him.
Something. At last I said, “Safety in numbers. I can stay with you tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Sure I do. We’ll lock up the house so that it’s safe then watch some
movies and gossip and paint our nails. It’ll be like a classic school sleepover,
except with weapons close to hand and the police on speed dial.”
Ruby laughed, and some of the worry digging into my chest relaxed.
“Thanks, Jo. You’re a good friend.”
Friend. I looked at the pile of bones and tried not to let sinking dread digits claws into me. Yeah, I guess we’re friend