Page 39 of The Lucky Winners

Thursday

Dev

The next morning, Dev moves quietly through the kitchen. He’s got the radio on low and the chugging of the coffee machine is helping to lighten the atmosphere. Silly as it seems, the house feels different today – the air seems heavier, as if it’s filling up with worries and tension.

He cracks two eggs into the pan, the shells making sharp little clicks.

The toast pops up, slightly more burned than he’d like, but it’ll do.

Merri’s nerves won’t be helped by perfect toast. While the eggs cook, he glances at the wide glass doors and windows.

He and Jack cleaned off the paint, but the scratches must remain until the replacement glass arrives.

Beyond the mess, the landscape rolls out in soft greens and misty blues, the trees standing tall and indifferent to their worries. It should be peaceful. It was peaceful, before the windows were defaced, before the hostile glances at the pub burrowed into his skin, like ticks.

The coffee machine sputters, steam hissing as he fills Merri’s new favourite mug – hand-painted, from a small pottery shop in town. Dev butters the toast, slides the eggs on to a plate and sets everything on a lap tray.

Merri has been so wound up since the vandalism, flinching at every sound, every shadow. And now this. The revelation that personal photographs of their home have been plastered all over social media in her name.

The comments were horrible, even more worrying than the photographs. Dev wouldn’t admit it to Merri, but even he feels as if everyone around here has started to resent them. After the unpleasant glares, and the muttered remarks at the pub, he feels freaked out, too.

After Merri told him about the photographs being posted, an idea had occurred to him.

Very warm weather – albeit with a low risk of a flash storm on Saturday evening – had been forecast for the weekend.

Maybe asking friends round for drinks on the terrace would help cement their feeling of belonging here.

He’d thought it could even be a dry run for inviting more people in a few weeks’ time when they’d got to know some.

Show everyone they were just an ordinary couple, not here to disrupt anything or impose.

But now, after Merri’s revelation about the photographs, he wonders if the drinks party couldn’t serve a more important role in rooting out a traitor among their new friends. If indeed that is the case.

They’d invite just Jack and Sarah, Simon and Tilda.

He’s noticed Merri has spent less time on the terrace since her claim that she saw someone hiding in the trees. She’s also started closing the glass doors instead of letting air in, as had become their habit.

Initially, Dev had dismissed what she’d said as nerves, even though the fear in her eyes had been real enough. But now – although he’d never say so – he has his doubts.

Still, if they don’t nip this in the bud, it will fester. Dev can imagine it already – the creeping anxiety, the sleepless nights. It has the potential to snowball into something bigger, something that might push Merri to want to leave the place.

That was why he’d made a call yesterday after she’d told him about the photos, and now he’s going to have to tell her what he’s done. He knows she’ll kick against it. He’s certain of that. He’s just not completely sure why.

He takes the tray and heads upstairs. In the bedroom, Merri is still curled up under the duvet, the blinds cracked just enough to let in a sliver of light.

‘Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!’ Dev sets the tray on the bedside table and pulls the blinds open wider. Light spills into the room, chasing the shadows away.

Merri sits up slowly, her gaze darting to the window, then back to him. ‘I feel like I’m in a goldfish bowl, with the blinds wide open,’ she complains. Her voice sounds small, brittle. ‘I can’t rest, knowing whoever vandalized the windows and posted those photos could be out there.’

The unhelpful realization hits Dev that the culprit could be two completely different people. Maybe there was more than one loser who was out to scare them off.

He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He reaches for her hand, his fingers warm against her cool skin.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he says cautiously, keeping his tone light. ‘The weather’s supposed to be nice this weekend. What if we had a few people over? Just Jack and Sarah, Simon and Tilda. Nothing fancy, just a few drinks and nibbles.’

Merri makes a noise of alarm. ‘Are you serious? When one of them could be the –’

‘Hear me out!’ He holds up his hands. ‘Getting together might give us a chance to flush out the culprit, or it could put our minds at rest. At the very least it will show people we’re not rattled.’

Merri pulls her hand away from his. ‘I don’t like the idea.’

He stands up and lifts the tray on to the bed next to her.

‘We owe Simon and Tilda an invite back anyway, don’t we?

And Jack and Sarah appear to have been really supportive.

It’s just a few drinks, nothing more. The worst thing we can do is let whoever did this think they’ve succeeded in getting to us. ’

Merri chews the inside of her cheek, her gaze drifting back to the window. The trees sway gently in the breeze as if they’re whispering secrets.

‘I’ll organize it all if you’d like to go ahead,’ Dev adds softly. ‘You don’t have to worry about a thing. Just give it some thought, yeah?’

For a long moment, Merri says nothing. Then, finally, she nods – just once, a small, reluctant motion. ‘I’ll think about it.’

Dev presses a kiss to her forehead, the tension in his chest easing just a little.

He stands, leaving her with the breakfast, and moves to the window.

It’s the kind of view people dream of, but there’s an edge to it now.

If it becomes sullied any further, they might not be able to claw back their confidence.

Dev turns to his wife. ‘This is our home now, Merri. We’re not going to let anyone drive us away. We can’t let that happen.’

Her eyes look dull. ‘I hear what you’re saying, Dev. But I’m not sure I believe it.’

‘That’s why I’ve asked for a bit of help with it,’ he says carefully.

‘Help?’

‘I spoke to the police yesterday,’ he says. ‘This time they actually put me through to someone useful.’

‘You called the police about the photographs?’ Merri whispers. ‘ Why? If they won’t come out for vandalism, they’re hardly going to be bothered about a bit of social media.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Dev says. ‘The police are more geared up for social-media problems than anything else, these days, aren’t they? I explained we’d had a couple of cases of vandalism and now someone is carrying out a vendetta against us on Facebook.’

‘And what did they say?’

The colour has drained from her face. As he suspected, she’s not taking it well. ‘When I explained that the local news would be very interested in the details of what’s happening here because of the house win, the officer assured me someone would be around this morning.’

Merri sits bolt upright. ‘This morning?’ She throws back the quilt and Dev reaches to steady the tray. ‘I need to get showered and –’

‘There’s no rush. I just got a text saying they’ll be here at ten.’

Dev stays by the window, his eyes tracing the familiar line of the trees as they sway in the breeze.

He can feel Merri’s still nervous and uncertain about the police coming and also his drinks suggestion.

He gets it – this is a risk. But they can’t keep hiding away, letting suspicion tear them apart.

He turns back to her, his expression more determined now. ‘Let’s think this through properly,’ he says gently. ‘If we’re going to do it, we need to be prepared. We can’t just let them show up and hope something falls into our laps. We need a plan.’

Merri looks at him, her expression still wary but also curious. ‘A plan for what, exactly?’

‘To help us figure out who’s been snooping around and posting those photos,’ Dev replies, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

‘We’ll make them comfortable – get everyone relaxed, chatting.

A few drinks, maybe even a toast to new friendships.

Then we can nudge the conversation around to the house.

Talk about how lucky we were to win it.’

Merri folds her arms, frowning. ‘And how would that help? They all know the DreamKey story.’

‘True,’ Dev concedes, ‘but we’ll steer it in a different direction this time. Once we’ve got them talking about the house, we’ll offer to show them around – take them through the rooms they haven’t seen. Watch how they react to the idea. Look out for anyone who hesitates or gets too eager.’

‘And you think whoever’s been sneaking around will give themselves away just like that?’ Merri asks, a hint of scepticism creeping in.

‘It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Think about it – whoever it is has been obsessed enough to take photos and post them online.

If we suggest showing Jack and Sarah, Simon and Tilda the rest of the place, they might give something away – either by being too keen or acting weird.

It’s not much, but it could give us a hint. ’

Merri’s gaze is thoughtful. ‘Sounds a possibility, but what if nobody acts suspiciously?’

‘Well, that’s the other part of the plan,’ Dev says, coming back to sit beside her.

‘We’ll keep a close watch online. If more photos show up after the party, we’ll know someone took advantage of the invitation to do some more snooping.

Worst-case scenario, we’ll have narrowed it down to just those four. ’

Merri nods slowly and tension starts to leave her shoulders. ‘OK … I suppose it’s better than just sitting around, waiting for something else to happen.’

Dev squeezes her hand. ‘Exactly. And we’ll stick together during the party, watch people’s reactions.

If anyone makes excuses to wander off alone or seems overly interested in rooms we’re not showing, we’ll take note of it.

We can even make a point of casually mentioning security upgrades to see who looks nervous. ’

She almost smiles at that. ‘You can think like a detective when you put your mind to it.’

Dev grins, nudging her gently. ‘Someone’s got to look out for us. We’re not about to let some jealous weirdo scare us off our new life.’

Merri exhales, the faintest hint of a smile curving her lips. ‘Fine. We’ll do it your way. But let’s watch how much we drink so we can keep our wits about us.’

‘Agreed,’ Dev replies, without hesitation. ‘We’ll just watch, listen, and take mental notes. Let them think we’re playing the good hosts.’

They share a look, a spark of determination passing between them. It’s the first time Merri has shown that she might be willing to fight back, and Dev feels a surge of hope.

As she turns her attention to the breakfast tray, Dev’s mind ticks over the details of their plan. It’s risky, but it’s a start – and it’s better than waiting for the next blow to fall.

One way or another, he’s going to find out who’s trying to break them.