Page 15 of Enemies Under One Roof

She couldn’t be Annie Carson ever again.

Making for the kitchen, Ivy passed Ruby’s bedroom and pushed open the door. Immediately she was engulfed in the familiar scent of lavender and lilies as she took in the four-poster bed, the floral wallpaper and curtains, the window seat that looked over the rose garden. It was the only bedroom Ruby had ever had because, when Ruby’s parents had died and left the Manor to their only child, she’d never moved. Ivy wondered what it would be like, to have the same bedroom for your whole life, live in just the one place.

Ivy’s bedroom, until the age of sixteen, had had boy band posters plastered on the walls, and a desk with its view of the Sydney street lined with jacarandas trees that flowered every spring. The decor was in so many different shades of yellow, her favourite colour, that her parents had called it the sunshine room, and her their Little Ray.

She pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry of grief, despair and guilt. What she wouldn’t do to turn back the clock and be in her golden bedroom now. Be a much-loved daughter again.

Instead, she’d killed her parents, ripped her family apart. A soul-crushing regret that continued to wake her in the middle of the night, gasping for breath with a yearning to rewrite history. When reality struck that she couldn’t, she’d lose herself in a script, in make-believe.

Now she grieved for Ruby; her quasi grandmother, her biggest supporter and the kindest woman she’d ever known. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and squeezed her eyes closed.

Would Ruby have left her beloved Manor to her, if she’d known what Ivy had done?

How could she ever deserve the trust Ruby had placed in her?

Unable to bear the questions, she turned to leave, spotting a yellow knitted scarf covered by a clear plastic protector.

The scarf her mum had made her as a surprise sixteenth birthday present that she’d refused to wear at the time, because it hadn’t been fashionable enough. How upset her mum must have been when she’d pushed it, forgotten, into a drawer until after she’d died.

She’d brought it to WillowGlen on her first visit, offering it to Ruby, knowing she didn’t deserve it. Ruby had tenderly taken it and kept it here for her.

Her chest squeezed as she reverently lifted it out of the plastic and cradled it in her shaking arms, like a baby. With rubbery legs she sank onto the edge of the bed, hugging the scarf to her face, wishing for the millionth time she’d done everything differently. Until a firm voice in head, that sounded very much like Ruby, not her mother, ordered her to put on a warm jacket, get some fresh air and take a turn around the fountain.

Ivy laughed, shed a tear, but was unable to disobey.

Carefully putting the scarf back in the plastic cover, she took it to her own room before wiping away any trace of tears. Heading downstairs, she put on the same long black puffer jacket as the day before that covered most of her black silk pantsuit and stepped outside.

The air was fresh, bordering on freezing, and instantly whipped away her anguished thoughts. Ivy loved the grounds in all seasons, but appreciated the barren beauty of its autumn glory. The lush lawn, bare trees and those still with their leaves a riot of reds, yellows and greens.

Walking along the avenue of willow trees, she arrived at the fountain. She ran her gloved fingers over the sandstone edge and began a slow circuit, taking a turn as Ruby had called it. A solitary ritual that had been a feature of every visit as the statues of Faith, Charity and Hope stared down with their interminable wisdom forever etched in marble. A wisdom that Ivy longed for.

To know the best thing for WillowGlen.

To make her immune to Ethan and the feelings he evoked.

To help her live with what she’d done to her parents.

Footsteps sounded on the path behind her.

She spun around. Had she been discovered?

Like she’d conjured him up, Ethan, clad entirely in black, strode towards her.

Danger of a different kind spiked her heart rate.

He looked good, too good. Desperately she schooled her features to hide her unwanted reaction to him because the last thing she needed was for him to know his effect on her.

‘Taking a turn?’ He tilted his head as he took in her black beanie, all the way to the cuffs of her silk pantsuit peeking out at the bottom of the coat and her black stiletto boots.

She nodded; he was obviously familiar with Ruby’s insistence that a turn around the Virtues was a cure for everything.

‘Good to know, because you look like you’re just about to rob a high-end bank.’

She laughed, the sound loud over the trickling water. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

Surprise flooded his face at her reaction, and his lips twitched before he blinked and his mouth flattened.

‘There’s something you need to see.’ He stepped forward and thrust out a handful of tabloids.