Sarah grimaced. No, of course he hadn’t. If he had meant to hurt her it might have been easier to bear. She detected the hand of Melanie in this calclass="underline" on his own, it would not have occurred to Brian that he owed her an apology.
“All right,” she said. “I overreacted. Apology accepted.”
“Great.” She could almost see his smile. “So you don’t mind us moving into your house?”
She stiffened. “Yes, I would mind.”
“So you are carrying a grudge.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? Sarah, you’ve only been there a few weeks and you want to move out. How much sentiment can you feel for it? Why should it make any difference to you if total strangers move in or if we do?”
Sarah sighed. “Brian, believe me, there is a reason. Don’t you wonder why I’m moving out of this great house?”
“Well . . . like you said. It’s awfully big for one person, and it’s kind of out of the way.”
She closed her eyes. “No, Brian. I didn’t say that. You said that.” But she hesitated. If he really didn’t know—
“So what is it? Bad plumbing?”
“The girl who lived here before I did. She was crazy. And she killed herself.”
Interest sharpened his voice. “It’s haunted?”
“No!” Too vehement. Sarah bit her lip. “No, Brian. She killed herself just last week. While I was living here. She came over here with a big knife in her purse and she cut her throat right in front of me.”
“My God,” Brian said, sounding awed. “She probably meant to kill you.”
Sarah said nothing.
“Oh, wow,” he said softly. “I see . . . I understand. I’m sorry, Sarah. It must have been awful for you.”
Sarah shrugged and said nothing.
“But, Sarah, there’s no reason for us not to move in. I mean, horrible as it was for you . . . the house isn’t going to stand empty. Somebody is going to move in. I’m sure there are apartments and houses all over town where people have died and other people go on living there. The idea doesn’t disturb me at all.”
“What about Melanie?”
“Huh?”
“She might not like the idea.”
“I’m sure she’ll agree with me. She’ll like the house once she sees it.”
Of course, thought Sarah. Melanie would go to hell on vacation if you asked her to. And agree with you that it was a great resort, if a trifle too hot. She felt tired of the argument, and tired of Brian.
“Look,” she said. “Just forget it, please. There are plenty of houses in Austin. I’m sure you and Melanie can find one you’ll like a lot better than mine.”
“It’s not like you to be so selfish, Sarah,” he said angrily. “I’m not asking you to make some huge sacrifice. All I want to know is the name of your landlord. You don’t even have to recommend us.”
“I haven’t even told her I’m moving out,” Sarah said. “When I do . . . I’ll give her your name.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes, I mean it. Her name is Mrs. Owens. She’s probably out of the hospital by now—she had a stroke. She’d probably be grateful to me for finding a new tenant, to save her the trouble.” As she spoke, Sarah could see Valerie’s thin face and sly smile as she told her the same thing.
“That’s great of you, Sarah,” Brian said, making his voice humble. “I knew you’d understand.”
Sarah made a face and saw it reflected, distorted, in the glass in the kitchen door.
“When were you going to move out?”
“I don’t know. As soon as I can. Maybe within a week. Just as soon as I’ve got a place to move to.”
“That’s great,” Brian said again, meaninglessly. “I’ll talk to you about it some more later, okay? I really appreciate this, you know. We both do.”
The “both” stung, but she tried not to mind it. As she hung up, Sarah had a sudden, vivid image of Melanie—fragile, childlike Melanie—standing in the middle of the kitchen floor, body twisted and tormented, her face a mask of pain and fear. She saw a bloody knife; saw a line of scarlet blossom at her throat.
Hatred, a feeling as hot and sweet as pleasure, rushed through her. How she would love to see that, to see Melanie in agony, destroyed. As quickly as the desire had come it was gone, and Sarah felt weak with shame. It was natural to resent Melanie, natural to want revenge, but she couldn’t let herself think about that—she didn’t really want that—not for Melanie or anyone.
The unexpected violence of her emotion left her feeling shaky, and she looked around uneasily, wondering if she had been wrong to give in to Brian. But Jade was gone, she told herself. He was dead. The house was empty, empty and safe. Brian and Melanie would be perfectly safe here; just as safe as anyone else who lived here. She would be safe herself, but she did not choose to stay.
Sarah had a hard time falling asleep that night. She lay awake a long time in the dark, empty bedroom, tossing on the new bed. She tensed at every sound, afraid that something was wrong. It was hard to accept that the battle was over and she had won, that she could sleep safely now. When she didn’t think of Jade, her thoughts turned relentlessly to Brian. Her earlier annoyance with him had faded, leaving behind the old, familiar ache. How long, she wondered, before she stopped missing him, stopped wanting him back?
I need to find someone else, she thought. It was time to get out, to meet new people, to go to parties again. It was possible in Austin to find some sort of party every weekend. It was time to stop mourning and get back into the swing of things. With someone new to think about and hold, she would not miss Brian so much.
That settled, Sarah snuggled deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets closer around her. The sound of the insects outside lulled her. It would be like the old days, she thought, when she and Beverly had found dates for each other.
She was half-asleep now, remembering the past and drifting into dreams. She rolled over in the soft, yielding bed and pressed herself against the comfort of Brian’s warm, naked body. Vague, sexual thoughts stirred within her, and she pressed her breasts against his back. Was he awake? She slipped her arms around him and trailed her fingers teasingly down his chest, his stomach, lower still . . .
He caught her hands gently and folded them around his penis, which was already half erect. She felt it swell within her hands and she sighed, pleased. He moved, turning within her arms to face her.
Moving to accommodate him, Sarah opened her eyes and was alone. Her arms, reaching out to embrace a phantom, were empty.
She shuddered, and tears rose in her eyes. A dream. Just a dream. Moonlight spilled coldly through the window, illuminating nothing but the emptiness around her. She didn’t belong here, alone in this big, empty house. She had no home.
Chapter Sixteen
Sarah hurried across the West Mall, her arms full of books and her mind full of lists. The day was unseasonably warm and sunny, and someone had strung garish red and silver Christmas decorations on all the pathetic boxed trees that broke up the monotony of the paved mall, but Sarah scarcely registered any of it. It was the last week of school before Christmas, and she had far too many things to do before she could leave town. She planned to hole up in the library for as long as possible to avoid the temptations of phone calls, visits, parties, and the accusing list of presents still unbought.
“Sarah, for heaven’s sake, are you deaf?”
Beverly blocked her way.
Sarah smiled and shifted her books against her chest. “Sorry. I was just plotting the impossible course of my life the next few days.”
“I need to talk to you for a minute, okay?”
Sarah raised an eyebrow at the mystery in her friend’s voice and followed her to a bench in the nearby Union patio.
“Look, I don’t want to stir anything up, or make you unhappy,” Beverly said. “I’ve been put in the middle of this, though, and you should know about it. Brian called me this morning. He wanted your address. He said he knew you’d moved into our complex, but he didn’t know the apartment number. I told him he could call you, and that he could get your new phone number from information, because I wasn’t going to tell him.”