Henry Price’s bathroom should have been cordoned off, like Chernobyl. Claire surveyed the bristly hairs in the sink, the clogged drain of the shower, and the unflushed toilet, and decided this room definitely deserved a Zone of Exclusion. And she was required to clean it.
It was her first day taking on Rachel’s cleaning jobs, and she’d actually been looking forward to it. It felt good to be helping someone, to be needed. She felt strong. Capable for once in her life.
Who knew, maybe she could go into business with Rachel. Campbell and West Cleaners. She actually liked tidying things up, although Henry Price’s bathroom was definitely testing her limits.
Forty-five minutes later she stripped off her rubber gloves in the kitchen and washed her hands, because it really had been that bad. Her mobile rang and she fished it out of her jeans.
“Hey, Rachel.”
“How’s it going?”
“I’ve survived Henry Price’s bathroom. I think. The side effects might manifest themselves later.”
Rachel laughed, and Claire smiled. “I did warn you.”
“Nothing could have prepared me for that. How are things at home?”
“Okay.” Rachel didn’t offer any more information, and Claire chose not to press. “If you’re still game for this, you have Emily Hart this afternoon. I switched her from Thursday to Tuesday. Beware the twins.”
“Riley and Rogan, right?”
“Yes. Good memory.” Rachel paused. “Thank you, Claire.”
“It’s no problem. You don’t have to keep thanking me.”
“I know. I’m not used to accepting help.”
“And I’m not used to giving it. This is good for both of us.”
“If you say so,” Rachel answered, and Claire could hear the smile in her voice.
As she hung up the phone, it occurred to her that she and Rachel were becoming proper friends, in a way they hadn’t ever been when they were younger, when Claire had depended on Rachel and Rachel had done everything. Now they were starting to have a friendship of give and take, of mutual trust. It felt good.
The rest of Henry Price’s house was on par with the bathroom. Claire worked steadily until her three hours were up, and she let herself out with the spare key he kept under a moldy-looking flowerpot on the front stoop. On to the Harts.
She drove up the high street in Rachel’s car, glancing briefly at the post office shop and wondering how Dan was. Yesterday he’d been as terse and monosyllabic as ever, and Claire had no idea how to get things back the way they’d been so briefly. Maybe they hadn’t really been friends. Maybe Dan hadn’t been warming up to her. She told herself she shouldn’t care, that Dan Trenton was a miserable old sod who was going to live and die alone and unloved, but it didn’t stop the twisting ache in her center at thethought of what she believed they’d almost had. She must have been delusional.
The Harts’ house was as different from Henry Price’s bachelor home as Claire could have imagined. The noise and mess hit her the moment she stepped across the threshold; she’d knocked twice but no one had answered, and so she’d opened the door herself. The TV was blaring, toddlers were screaming, and the front hall was littered with toys as well as two pairs of crumpled footie pajamas and two clearly dirty nappies.
“Hello?” Claire called cautiously, and followed the sound of the toddlers to the kitchen. Riley and Rogan were strapped into booster chairs with plates of what must have been lunch in front of them. Ketchup was smeared all over their faces and clothes and in their hair. Claire drew back at the sight.
“You must be Claire.” A wan, harassed-looking woman smiled tiredly from where she was kneeling on the floor, cleaning up bits of hot dog and grapes that had been sliced in half. “Sorry. The twins have gone on a food strike. They won’t eat anything.”
“Just put it in their hair?” Claire surmised with a smile, and then bent to help retrieve the bits of food. “I guess Rachel told you I was coming.”
“Yes. I didn’t realize her mother was poorly. She never said anything.”
“It’s been going on for a while.”
“Poor thing. She’s always been so good about listening to me moan about everything.” Emily straightened and touched her middle self-consciously. “I’m pregnant. I just found out.”
“Oh. Congratulations.”
“Rachel listened to me go on about it last week. We weren’t trying, you see.”
“Ah. Right.”
“Of course, children are always a blessing, but I’m afraid I gave Rachel an earful last week.” Emily smiled apologetically, andClaire tried for an understanding nod back. She’d never even thought about having children. Hugh had always said he didn’t want any, and Claire had gone along with it because she couldn’t imagine actually being responsible for another person. Yet another way she’d bent to someone else’s will, and yet now she wondered if she actually would like children one day. Glancing at Riley and Rogan, she thought she might, far into the future.
