With the tree growing around it, Nush lifted the earpiece from the archaic telephone as though it might bite her.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Nush, thank God I got through to you.’

  ‘Michael? How... I mean... I don’t understand.’

  ‘How did I know to call you at the old telephone in the woods?’

  Relief battled with the day’s strangeness and frustration. ‘Well, yes. This is a bit fucking weird.’

  Michael chuckled. ‘Tell me about it. A mix of yokel humour and tradition. You found the graveyard of the dolls?’

  ‘Yes.’ Nush looked back over her shoulder at the field of small mounds and felt her skin crawl. It wasn’t hard to imagine the surfaces of those faux graves beginning to move, as little arms poked free, followed by dozens of small heads—all a touch too big for their bodies—shaking clear of the dirt and turning their unblinking eyes on her. ‘What the fuck!’

  Michael seemed in a good mood, and it was seeping through the telephone to Nush. A calming potion in her ear, and God, she welcomed it.

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  ‘I know, I know. Think of it as characterful, rural charm. Look, I was getting worried when you didn’t turn up at the beach house. The turn off is easily missed and if you take the wrong road through the woods, it only stays a road for so long. You’re not the first person to get lost. I figured you must have been unlucky in your choice, and if that was the case, you’d end up not far from the old phone, and well, here we are. I found you. Are you alright?’

  No, she wasn’t fucking-well alright, but she said, ‘Not too bad. A bit hot and sticky and annoyed...’ And weirded the fuck out, she thought. ‘But, yeah, I’m okay.’

  ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Wait until you see the beach house, the dunes, the ruined castle on the hill: you won’t want to ever leave.’

  ‘I bet I will.’ That came out surlier than she meant it too, but Michael seemed not to notice.

  ‘Pitch it as a fairy tale you’re selling, the romance of it.’

  She couldn’t help but wonder if Michael had a double meaning, hinting at their relationship, or possible relationship.

  ‘Romance, you say?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I can definitely sell the arse out of a fairy tale romance.’

  ‘That’s why I wanted you.’

  Christ, Michael had improved his flirting. Nush’s double-entendres tended to be a bit spicier and on the nose, but these were hitting the spot with their subtler charms.

  ‘You better come and get me then.’

  ‘Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that. I had a touch of car trouble myself. We’re with the mechanic now. Be with you as soon as we can.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘My son, Sam.’

  ‘Son? I didn’t know.’

  ‘Funny story. Actually, it’s not so funny. Up until about a week or so ago, I didn’t know either. I’ll explain when I see you. It doesn’t affect us, I promise.’

  Words like us, fairy tale, I promise, and romance tussled with I’ll explain, not so funny and son. Both were second to getting the hell out of this place. ‘Just hurry,’ she said, trying not to sound too desperate.

  ‘I will. Stay right where you are.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry about that.’ And at the time she said it, Nush meant it.