to speak to wasn’t often there when she was. Besides, that person would no longer recognise her. They had barely known each other.
It was too late to fix anything, too late to save her family and too late to save herself. The only thing she had control of was her spiral into descent and this she was doing her own way.
The quilt was all ruffled on the side where Christian had slept alone the night before. As she went to pull a curtain, she stumbled and dragged it along with the rail. ‘Damn.’ She placed the wine on the windowsill and dropped the curtain to the floor. Movement caught her eye. She stared beyond the back garden and saw someone in a long black coat. Similar, if not the same as the one she’d failed to get rid of and, for that, it still haunted her. She glanced back and the figure had gone. Maybe the only thing she’d just seen was a vision of herself. It was that creepy coat again. She would get rid of it but not now, tomorrow, or it would haunt her forever.
She grabbed the wine and sobbed as she reached Bella’s bedroom. Slipping off her shoes, she got into her daughter’s bed. She lay there in the darkness inhaling the citrusy scent of her shower gel, the one Bella loved. A long black hair lay on the pillow. She held it up and ran her fingers down it before allowing it to slip and fall to the floor. She grabbed the bear that had been Bella’s favourite since as long as Cherie could remember and hugged it closely as she brought the wine to her lips once again, a drizzle slipping down the side of her mouth.
An image flashed through her mind. A stick poking through cut flesh and laughter as salty tears dripped down the girl’s neck. She could see her black coat reflected in that girl’s eyes as she held the torch in her direction.
Marcus and Isaac would love it if she lost the plot. Maybe they were now seeing her as the loose cannon of the group but it was one of them, not her, and she’d get to the bottom of it all once she’d sobered up.
Her phone beeped, lighting up the darkness. She frowned and finished off the wine before closing her eyes. It could wait. She stared at the wine and felt her car keys in her coat pocket. There was one thing that couldn’t wait.
Chapter Fifty-Four
A split in the wood, just around her waist area – Gina could see it. The match burned down, catching her finger. ‘Ouch.’ She placed it in her mouth and sucked it to take the sting away but all she could taste was dirt and grit. She spat it away and felt in the darkness for the split.
There. She remained still and silent. That was definitely the sound of an owl. Then her phone began to ring but the coffin hadn’t lit up. She was in a shallow grave. She felt the adrenaline pumping as she pushed, cutting into her finger as she prodded the gap to drive it apart.
Punching and hitting it, the split finally crunched. A shower of earth thudded onto her midriff. She reached behind and caught the end of a piece of string. If Alexander Swinton’s murder was anything to go by, she knew what was at the other end. A bell without a clapper. She tugged it but something was different. It dinged away with every pull. Whoever had buried her had not wanted her to die. ‘Help.’ Someone had to hear her. Her phone went again. It wasn’t too far away. It had to be close to the coffin. Another spurt of muck slipped through the split as she probed the hole further. The gap was widening. She only hoped the grave was shallow enough to escape from.
Kicking and punching at the whole box, she hoped something would give soon.
‘Help!’
Maybe the person who trapped her was waiting and watching. I am waiting. I am watching. I am coming. She stopped and tried to steady her breathing, listening for clues. Nothing. Not a sound. Her phone had stopped ringing. Had her attacker ended the call or had the caller stopped the call?
Gently, she popped a second finger through the gap in the wood and continued to drive it upwards. A cold drop of water landed on the tip of her little finger followed by the chill of