‘But the best bit was when Mr Yomoda produced a large folio case and showed me some paintings featuring Japanese cherry blossom. Each picture was unique, and yet they were all linked by the pop of colour of the cherry blossom. They were so beautiful – like happiness on paper—’
‘That’s lovely, Cleo, but I’m going to have to go.’ Regan’s agitation was rising.
‘Oh, okay,’ Cleo sounded crestfallen.
‘Look, I’ll call you soon for a proper chat, I promise. But for the record I’m glad you took the plunge and were brave enough to accept the Yomodas’ offer. That took a lot of guts.’
‘Thanks,’ said Cleo. ‘I’m pleased too, because I’ve had a really nice evening. The first since I left home.’
Regan ended her phone call and let herself into Charlie’s house as quietly as she could. She wasn’t entirely sure how she would keep from waking up Beanstalk, especially when the man from the council arrived, but she’d cross that particular rickety bridge when she reached it. For now she needed to check the kitchen was clean and tidy, and familiarise herself with it in case she was asked any tricky questions.
She shut the door carefully behind her and turned around. She came face to face with a woman wearing bright pink marigolds. ‘Argh!’ yelped Regan, trying to stifle the sound when she remembered a sleeping Beanstalk.
‘Who are you?’ quizzed the woman, giving her a once-over.
‘Regan. I’m a friend of Charlie’s.’ She assumed this was Charlie’s mum, so she stood up straight and tried to look like girlfriend material.
The woman pulled off the gloves with a snap. ‘If you were a friend of his you’d know he was at work.’
Regan was slightly put out that he’d clearly not even mentioned her to his mother, but she tried to bury that feeling and deal with the issue at hand. She held up the keys. ‘I went to the fire station and he gave me his key.’
The woman looked confused. ‘Then why are you creeping about?’
‘Same as you; because Beanstalk is on nights.’
The woman narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you Beanstalk’s girlfriend?’
‘Beanstalk has a girlfriend?’
‘I don’t know; I thought you might be.’
‘No. I’m a friend of Charlie’s. He introduced me toMantra.’ She was so close to wanting to ask:has he really not mentioned me at all?
‘Oh …’ She seemed to be considering this new information. ‘I’m Joanna.’ She held out a damp hand for Regan to shake. At least this was progress.
‘Hi, Joanna. I’m Regan.’
‘Oh, is it a nickname? Are you a firefighter too? You girls you can do anything these days.’
‘No. It’s …’ Regan caught sight of the clock. The man from the council was due any moment. ‘Anyway, you’ve made a fabulous job of the kitchen,’ she said, popping her head round the door. ‘Are you all done?’ It was peculiar to have a whole conversation in whispers. Regan tried to steer Joanna towards the door but she wasn’t budging.
‘No. I was about to thoroughly clean the oven.’
‘I’m sure it doesn’t need it. Could you do it another day? It’s just that I really need the kitchen.’
‘What for?’ The puzzled expression had returned to Joanna’s face. This wasn’t a good sign.
Regan decided to go for the honest approach. ‘I’m starting my new business and Charlie said I could use his kitchen to make jam.’ Well, it was honest-ish.
‘You’re making jam?’
‘Not today. The man from the council food hygiene needs to check the kitchen first.’
‘But it’s spotless,’ said Joanna, her voice rising slightly.
‘I know,’ agreed Regan, hoping to make an ally. A rap on the door drew their attention. ‘That’ll be him.’
‘Right,’ said Joanna, marching to the door.
