I find him in our bedroom, hunched over his laptop. The curtains are still closed and the light is struggling to filter through. The bed is still unmade.
‘Adrian,’ I say gently, resting my hand on his shoulder so as not to startle him. He looks up, clearly still thinking about the characters and the lives I’ve awakened him from, and for a moment I feel sad, as though I’ve lost him. When I first had the idea of moving to the country and starting a guesthouse I had visions of us side by side, running it together. But it’s Mum I’m running it with and Adrian hides up here all day, living through a bunch of fictional characters. But then I think of our life in London after his breakdown, all the fear and stress it entailed, and I know which reality I prefer. ‘I can see you’re writing, but would you mind popping to B&Q at some point to get a lock for the girls’ door?’
He groans. ‘Can’t you go?’
‘I don’t know exactly what we need.’ Adrian is good at DIY, like my father had been, and although I can do lots myself – I’m a dab hand at putting together Ikea furniture – I wouldn’t know where to start, drilling locks into doors.
‘Okay.’ He sighs, running his hand over his beard. It’s getting bushier by the day. He looks like he’s about to explore the Antarctic. ‘I’ll go at lunchtime.’ He pushes his chair away from the table with his feet.
I tell him about the teenage lovebirds and Janice’s tarot cards, and he gives a bark of laughter as I describe the creaking bed. ‘Blimey, what a motley crew. I’m glad you told Nancy to clean their room. God knows what you might find. It’s bad enough you saw that tarot card in Mystic Meg’s.’
I burst out laughing. ‘Mystic Meg. I love it! Oh, Adrian. There’s enough fodder here for your book.’
I feel good that I’ve made him laugh. His brown eyes soften as he looks at me. ‘I’ll come down and help later,’ he promises. ‘I’ll just finish this chapter.’
I kiss the side of his face, my lips brushing his bristly beard. ‘It’s fine.’ But he’s already turned away from me, his attention back on the screen.
I want to remind him to get dressed but I stop myself. I’m not his mother. I straighten the bed to the sound of him tapping away at the keyboard.
I’m in the hallway paying Nancy for two hours’ work when the doorbell goes. The house is empty apart from us so I wonder if one of the guests has forgotten their key.
When I open it, I’m surprised to see a stranger standing on the other side. He’s around my age, maybe a bit older, and there is something familiar about him that I can’t quite place. He has short hair, almost a crew-cut, and is tall with broad shoulders. He’s wearing khaki trousers and a North Face waterproof jacket. I’m struck by how big and heavy the rucksack on his back must be. He looks like the kind of man who might run a cadet course.
Nancy sidles past us, saying she’ll be back tomorrow for an hour, and I wave her off, distracted by the man standing in front of me.
‘Hi, can I help you?’ I ask, blinking up at him. It’s stopped raining and the sun has come out from behind a cloud, almost blinding me. I have to shield my face with my hand.
‘Do you have a room? For one night or two?’ he asks. He has a Welsh accent. He’s quite handsome, in an Action Man way, with his too-white teeth and ‘outdoorsy’ tan, but something about his eyes and the way they sweep over me unnerves me.
‘I only have a double room, I’m afraid.’ I tell him the price, expecting him to refuse.
‘It’s just me but I’ll take it,’ he says eagerly, like a dog snatching a treat.
‘Oh, that’s great. Come in, I’ll just need to take some details and then I can show you to your room.’
He follows me into the office. His height and weight are so imposing I feel hemmed into the small room. He’s blocking the doorway with his bulk. There is something intimidating about him and I suddenly feel vulnerable at being in the house without Adrian. Maybe it’s his stature, or that he doesn’t smile. I can feel his eyes on me as I open the desk drawers and I wonder if he’s clocking where I keep the spare keys. Thankfully this office has a lock on it. I think of the girls in the garden with Mum. Too far away to hear me if something happened. My hand cups the inhaler in my pocket but for some reason I resist the urge to use it, although I’m short of breath. I don’t want to show him any weakness.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, then hoists his bag off his back in one swift movement. The action makes me jump, and he smirks. I hide my unease by casually pushing a registration card and pen across the desk. ‘Can you fill this in, please? And I’ll need to take payment up front if that’s okay.’
‘No problem,Kirsty,’ he says, and I look up, startled. The way he utters my name makes me feel as though I should know who he is. He grins, and there is something malevolent in his features as he adds, ‘I’m surprised you don’t recognize me, but it has been nearly twenty years.’
14
Dean Hargreaves. What the hell is he doing here? It can’t be a coincidence that he’s turned up while Selena’s staying. Has she arranged this? Was he the man she met the other night?
‘Oh, hi. How are you?’ I say, thrown. He’s changed a lot since I last saw him. Gone are the grey complexion and the gawkiness. I take the key off the hook, choosing the bedroom furthest away from us. I have duplicates for every room locked in my desk drawer. I hand him the key for Freesia. ‘Let me show you to your room.’
He takes it. ‘Nah. You’re all right. Cheers, though, Kirsty.’ He grins, looking me up and down. ‘You’ve hardly changed. I’d know you anywhere.’
I can’t help myself. ‘You do know that Selena’s staying here?’
He contorts his face into an expression of surprise. ‘No! She’s here? Well, what a coincidence.’
He’s lying.
He grins again. I notice a gold tooth just behind the canine. ‘Don’t look so worried. Always was protective of her where I was concerned, weren’t you?’ He laughs. ‘Now, how do I get to my room?’
I give him a professional smile. ‘It’s straight up the stairs, first door on the right.’
