Drawing Blood

Chapter Twenty

Angela's house was perfect if you wanted to wake up every morning with a view of the sea. A few hundred yards away from the Marina, and three storeys tall, you could see for miles around on a clear day. It had long, rectangular windows that attracted the dying sun during the evenings, and a navy-coloured front door with stained glass panels, allowing the light to cast it's magic in the hallway. The back garden was small, surrounded with a high brick wall for privacy, and in the front were plants that had been carefully picked for their ability to flourish during all seasons.

It was a truly beautiful house, and under different circumstances I could have quite easily spent the rest of my life pottering around its many rooms, living amongst its many ghosts. However, as I sat outside the front of it, looking through the misty car window at the grey, stormy sea, I realised that it would never be a reality for me anymore. I was here to say goodbye to it all, and I had just three days to do it.

I opened the driver's door with some apprehension, and stepped out onto the pavement, mentally preparing myself for the days ahead. I was assuming it would only take three days to grab everything I needed, and that was what I had told Will. But as I began to handle the boxes I'd thrown in the back seat, I wondered if I had given myself enough time. There were a lot of rooms to get through, and that was without the threat of having Adam there to distract me. I didn't know how I was going to juggle it all. The technical stuff had been sorted; I'd already arranged for a clearance company to take whatever I didn't want, and I had storage for the stuff I did want. But the emotional stuff was going to cause problems, and there wasn't a company in the world who could take care of that for me.

I slammed the car door behind me, using my foot to do so, struggling to hold everything. Under different circumstances, I would have done this on my own, and been more prepared. I would have taken a month to do it, and not a weekend. Somewhere between London and Surrey, panic had overwhelmed me to the point where I had wanted to pull over and go back. Thankfully, it hadn't lasted. Driving towards the A27, that panic was slowly replaced with anger. By the time I had arrived, it had been replaced with sadness.

"Are you okay?" Adam held his hand out to take the boxes from me, and when I realised what he was doing, I handed them to him without complaint. I had watched him jog across the road towards me, as though in a dream, but I hadn't really registered him until now. When I nodded, forcing a smile across my lips, he added, "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

Saying nothing more, I moved past him and he followed me. We walked up the chequered path together, and he waited while I opened the front door. I allowed him to cross the threshold before me, the sight of him in the hallway an indication of how real this was, and it was happening whether I liked it or not. He was casual today, wearing jeans and a hoodie that concealed his torso; and somehow, that still managed to affect me. Keeping my eyes fixed ahead, I was careful not to seem bothered by him, but in reality, I was a jangled mess; my stomach tensing and twisting as though it was putty in his hands. As we went back and forth to collect more storage from our vehicles, it grew worse, and I began to wish I'd asked Annie to join us, to break any tension and to make things more manageable. But knowing their parents were now on holiday, and there was no one else to mind the store, it would have been impossible.

"I'll probably need to get some supplies in," I mentioned, once we were finished. "I had the estate agents hire a cleaner to tidy up the place in my absence. I suspect they may have thrown a lot of food out."

"We can go to the supermarket together when you're ready?" he muttered, emerging from the back room where he had just put the last of the boxes. "There's one at the Marina, isn't there?"

"That won't be necessary. There's a shop across the road where I can grab some stuff."

He acknowledged my response with a quick nod, adding, "Okay, I'm just going to grab my bag, then I'll be right back," before vanishing again. I heard his footsteps disappear down the garden path, the gate opening, then swinging shut; and my shoulders sagged, my thoughts racing a hundred miles per hour. It didn't feel like we were here to pack up. It felt as though we were moving in together, on our best behaviour, along with all the niceties and promises that came with it. Technically, that would ultimately happen, and I tried not to linger too hard on that thought as my gaze swept over the place. I had not been here for six months, and it was strange seeing it again. It had been a wrench leaving, and I hadn't wanted to. But, Will needed me more. And being the only family he had left, it had fallen to me to fulfil the dutiful daughter role.