Page 55 of The Lucky Winners

Merri

My mind is spinning, the thoughts colliding until I can’t breathe. I can’t stand to look out of the window.

I’m keeping the glass doors shut now. Even when it’s really warm and the house feels airless.

I can’t stand the thought of the lake air creeping in, slick and cold.

Sometimes I think I can smell it anyway – the earthy, metallic scent, like dirty stones and rot.

But it still clings to the corners of the house, as if it will always manage to seep in.

I need to get away from here, just for a while, to clear my head.

My mind drifts to Paige at the old house. Seeing a familiar face and someone I can trust is what I need. Paige has always been good at giving impartial advice and I’ve missed her since we moved here. Things are a bit awkward between us but I’m willing to push through that because I need her.

I try calling her, but it goes straight to voicemail again.

I wonder if she’s ignoring me, after I missed her calls on the night of the party.

I pause for a second, then make up my mind – I’ll go back to Nottingham to see her.

It’s a long journey, but it gets me away from here and I should have made the effort to go before now, or to invite her here.

I need some space and I’ll explain to Dev later.

I send a quick text to Paige to say I should arrive late morning. If she’s not in, I can let myself in with my own key. When I offered her the place, she’d said I was welcome to drop by any time and let myself in if there was anything I needed.

Right now, I need the space of my old life – away from everything, away from everyone. Away from this new life that still feels overwhelming.

Before I get a cab to the station, I leave Dev a note telling him I have to go back to see Paige and I’ll explain everything to him later.

I stare at my phone the entire journey, willing it to buzz with a reply from Paige.

When I texted her first thing, I told myself the silence didn’t mean anything.

I know she’s not at work today but she’s probably busy with something else.

But as the train rattles closer to Nottingham and still nothing comes through, an uneasy restlessness claws at me.

My thoughts churn endlessly, one worry feeding into the next as a palette of green fields rushes past the window.

By the time I arrive at Nottingham, the unease inside me has grown into something heavier still. I call Paige again as I stand near the taxi rank outside the station, pressing the phone tight to my ear. Nothing. No answer.

The cab ride to the house drags endlessly, every red light and traffic queue fraying my nerves further. When we finally pull up outside my old house, my heart sinks. The place looks different. Lifeless, somehow.

For the first time I’m aware of all the concrete. Everything man-made and nothing of nature, aside from a few patchy squares of lawn.

I pay the driver and step out of the cab, desperate for some air after the muggy interior.

For the sake of courtesy, I ring the doorbell even though I’m pretty sure Paige isn’t at home.

I’m reminded of that morning when, grumpy from having my day off disturbed, someone wouldn’t stop ringing the doorbell.

I smile when I remember how mortified I was when I found myself in front of the DreamKey cameras clad in my dressing-gown.

I can hear the door chime echo hollowly inside. There’s no movement. No footsteps. No sign of life. Next, I knock on the door, but even as my knuckles rap the wood, I know it’s pointless.

I slip the key into the lock, my hand trembling as I push the door open. The cold hits me as soon as I step inside. My gaze drops to the floor where a pile of unopened mail is scattered where it fell through the letterbox.

The place feels strange. Not lived in.

The kitchen confirms my suspicions. Plates and mugs are stacked high in the sink, crusted with dried food.

The bin is overflowing, the sour stench wafting up and a couple of flies buzzing around.

I step closer, my stomach churning at the smell, anger bubbling at the sight of the place in such a state.

‘What the hell, Paige?’ I mutter under my breath. Do a friend a good deed and this is what happens.

Upstairs, things only get worse. The bedroom – a room I’d loved for its clean lines and soft, comforting light – looks like it’s been ransacked. Drawers are pulled open, their contents strewn across the floor in chaotic piles. Papers, clothes and random bits of junk lie scattered everywhere.

And then I see the mail. More letters addressed to me and Dev, torn open and tossed aside as if they’re rubbish.

A cold dread seeps through me. Something is very wrong here. First the shock of Sarah’s death and now … Now I’m filling with a sense of doom about Paige’s safety.

The phone in my pocket rings, making me jump. I pull it out to see Paige’s name flashing on the screen.

Her voice is edged with panic. ‘Have you got to the house yet?’

‘Oh, thank goodness you’re OK! I’m here now,’ I say, my own anger rising fast. ‘The place is a bloody mess, Paige. What the hell is going on? Where are you?’

There’s a pause that stretches long enough to make my stomach twist.

‘I’ll explain everything, I promise,’ she says eventually, her voice uncharacteristically sheepish. ‘I haven’t stayed there for a few days, Merri.’

It’s been a lot longer than a few days , I feel like snapping back. Instead, I bite my tongue in the interest of finding out exactly what’s been happening here.

‘Meet me in an hour at the café near the health centre. You know the one.’

‘Wait, what about the –’ I’m about to ask her about the opened mail, but she ends the call before I can finish.

I stare at the phone in disbelief before glancing back at the mess that surrounds me.

Part of me wants to storm out and leave her to deal with it all before giving her a week to move out.

But another part – a quieter, more insistent part – knows something isn’t right.

This is not the organized, motivated Paige I’ve worked with for the last few years.

I’ve got plenty of time to get to the café, so I spend the next fifteen minutes trying to make the place look halfway normal again. I go through the mail, most of it junk or the odd thing that’s slipped through the redirection we’d set up.

I tackle the dirty dishes first, trying not to breathe in as I load them into the dishwasher. In the lounge, I start gathering the scattered papers and belongings, shoving them back into the drawers.

Dev will lose it when he finds out. He didn’t want Paige to move in from the start, and now I can’t defend my decision. She’s let me down. Let us down and it’s all my doing.

By the time I lock up and step outside, my boiling anger has dulled to a simmer. I walk in the direction of Brew, the café, for about ten minutes to clear my head. Then I call an Uber.

The café hasn’t changed, though I suppose I hadn’t expected it to. A lot has happened but it’s only a few weeks since I was in here with Paige.

The warm glow of its familiar interior and the smell of ground coffee beans helps me to relax.

I order tea and exchange polite words with the barista, who recognizes me immediately.

‘Hey, welcome back! Hope some of your luck rubs off on me.’ He grins.

‘The house you won – how amazing! Living in a place like that must be a dream come true.’

I smile, offering the usual platitudes that people want to hear. Yes, we can’t believe our luck … such an incredible house … worth buying a ticket!

Inside, I feel disconnected from my own descriptions of life at Lakeview House. Nobody wants to hear about betrayal and death and how it feels to be largely shunned by the locals.