A Kiss in the Snow - Rosie Green Page 0,16

I catch something out of the corner of my eye and I spin round to face Moon Cottage.

The cottage is lying empty, according to Anita and Maud. Yet I’m sure I saw a curtain twitch in one of the windows.

I stand there for a moment, waiting for more movement, but the windows just stare blankly back at me, the cottage in total darkness. I turn, shaking my head and smiling to myself. Maud’s sinister tale about Reenie Lennox and her abusive husband has clearly got my imagination working overtime.

Slipping and sliding a little in my loafers, I navigate the snowy garden path, open the front door and set the box down in the hallway, stamping my feet on the welcome mat. It’s deliciously cosy in the cottage, and I recall Maddy saying the heating is on a timer switch. Closing the solid wood door behind me, I flick on the hall lamp and stand there for a moment, listening to the sound of silence. Then I head upstairs to unpack.

A little later, I go down to the kitchen and put the kettle on. I glance around, a feeling of mild panic fluttering in my chest at the thought of being here alone, in a place where I know no-one. It’s almost pitch black beyond the kitchen window. Only the dark shapes of the trees are visible.

I think of Maud’s story about the body buried in the garden next door, and a shiver runs down my spine. I don’t believe it, of course. Murders don’t happen in picturesque little villages like Silverbells.

I swallow. Except that they do. Sometimes. Anything could be lurking out there.

What on earth was I thinking, deciding to come here on my own?

I glance at the digital clock on the oven. It’s nearly seven. Time for dinner. I’m not that hungry but I remove the wrapper on the shepherd’s pie I’ve brought with me anyway and slip it into the microwave. Then I spend the next ten minutes doing all different combinations of button-pressing, trying and failing to get the damn thing to work.

Switching the oven on is much simpler, thank goodness.

While I’m waiting for it to heat up, I walk through the cottage, swishing all the curtains closed and deciding to watch TV. But I hadn’t planned on the ultra-smart set-up. The screen is huge but I’ve no idea how to find Coronation Street. It’s a challenge too far for my tired brain so I settle onto the sofa with my book instead, trying to shrug off the feeling of desolation that’s creeping over me.

A little voice in my head is taunting me.

So much for a week spent sorting out your life! You won’t even be able to last a whole twenty-four hours at this rate! If you leave now, you can watch Corrie on catch-up at home.

I cross to the window and peer through the curtains. Frost is already gleaming on the roof of my car. The roads will be icy. I really don’t fancy driving home right now. I’ll sleep on it. And if I still feel like this in the morning, I’ll give up and go home.

Back in the kitchen, I switch off the oven and put the shepherd’s pie back in the fridge. I’m really not hungry. A clanking noise outside, like something metal falling over, makes me turn to the window.

And what I glimpse, in the eerie gloom of the back garden, makes my heart leap with fright. A figure is standing there, just a few yards from the window, staring in at me.

Fear clutches at my guts. And then just as quickly as it appeared, the vision is swallowed up by the darkness.

My heart thudding, I stare transfixed at the now deserted garden. Then in one quick movement, I dart forward and swish down the blind. The crash as it hits the sill makes my heart leap with shock for a second time. I rush around, checking doors and windows, then I grab my book and beat a hasty retreat upstairs.

What the hell was that?

Did I imagine that figure staring in at me? Was it my own reflection? Or was there really someone out there?

Maybe it was a burglar, who changed his mind when he saw me? Or perhaps Silverbells has a peeping Tom, who lurks around the backs of houses at the dead of night, scaring people half to death. My imagination is running riot and it’s not until I’m tucked up in bed, secure in the knowledge that all