The Night Hunter by Caro Ramsay Read Free Book Online

raven black hair pulled into an elastic band; a few wisps had come loose and fallen down over her face. But her huge blue eyes regarded me with all the warmth of anti-freeze. The hall behind her was a huge space, as if she had opened the door in a cathedral – a vast, empty interior in pure white plaster. Soulless marble statues hung around, as if waiting for the door to open far enough to let them out. The arches of the ceiling went high into the roof space, stretching the whole height of the house. On the wall was a series of multi-coloured glass pipes, as if that was art. It was like a Hollywood film set.
    Mary was icily polite, nervous, a little shaky even as she tried to welcome me. Then a shock of unruly brown hair appeared between her ankles followed by a jam-covered face. There was no need for a DNA test to confirm who his dad was. The child pulled back to hide behind her Ugg boots then asked who I was, pointing at me. He was as unfriendly as his mother.
    ‘I’m Elvie.’
    ‘I’m Charlie. You have a strange face. Are you a monkey?’
    Mary was about to admonish him for being cheeky but I answered, ‘Well, I can swing from trees and I eat bananas.’
    He sniffs. ‘Are you here to sort me out?’
    ‘I’m here to tell you that sniffing like that is bad for you.’
    ‘Good luck with that,’ laughed Mary, and even then I sensed that she did not have a lot to laugh about. Charlie offered me a Kinder Egg penguin as some kind of key to the kingdom. Mary gestured that I go into the front room where there were white sofas, a designer coffee table and a strong smell of money. I hesitated at the door, eyeing the Chinese rug, then I pointed at my trek shoes.
    ‘I spend most of my time in the kitchen,’ she said as we both stood at the doorway, looking at the big room, the huge window with the trees and the loch and the mountains beyond. It seemed a very wild world out there.
    ‘Kitchen then?’ I suggested.
    Mary was the young mother of a hyperactive four-year-old stuck miles from nowhere. We gelled quickly and soon found common ground. She was keen to tell me that she had walked away from uni too. I mentioned I was going back, she said I was lucky. She had been doing English literature. I told her about Sophie’s love of Christina Rossetti and she actually got excited. Her old life came back to her like a train.
    ‘Can I ask you a question?’
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘What is your actual name?’
    ‘Elvira. If the second kid had been a boy he’d have been Elvis, so I took the hit so that my brother could be called Grant.’
    She suppressed a giggle.
    We also liked silence. We could walk down the road to the loch to sit on stones, saying nothing but perfectly happy in each other’s company. I began to sleep, began to rest. I began to eat. The running became joyful, not punishing. The stress decreased, the adrenaline rush in my veins less frequent.
    I realize, as the majestic house rolls past, that I have been better since I came here.
    The crunch of another bad gear change breaks my train of thought and I register that Eric has been talking to me. ‘Pardon?’
    ‘I said, it’s an impressive house, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes.’ My radar had a moment to tune in this time. He had designed the house and I should be complimentary. ‘It’s a work of art. Where is your croft from here?’
    ‘Building site, you mean. It’s miles back, way back down the Rest, past Succoth and up the other side, the Loch Lomond side.’
    He drives carefully up the narrow lane. The gates of the Ardno house are big and forbidding, but all I see are the strange shadows, and their secrets.
    I notice that Eric has the same keypad to open the electric gates as me. His is much more worn than mine, but his code is different. So not only does the gate computer note ‘when’ but also ‘who’, such is the security needed for a millionaire’s wife.
    He does not pull up at the front of the house but drives round to the entrance to my flat, which sits