‘Oh, look. Your favourite neighbours.’ Rufus grins playfully. ‘I wonder if they’re off on a murder spree!’
I tut at him, then step out of the car. Henry waves, closes the boot lid and gets into the driver’s seat.
‘Hi,’ calls Marielle. She looks as if she’s about to get in on the passenger side but seems to think better of it. She walks over to me and lowers her voice. ‘We’re away tonight but we’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning becauseI’m looking after my grandson. But …’ she hesitates ‘… would you mind just keeping an eye on the house?’
I can feel Rufus’s breath on my neck.‘Oh, the irony!’I can imagine him saying.
‘Sure.’ I frown. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No. Not at all. It seems a very nice neighbourhood and everything. It’s just … we’ve had a few incidents.’
‘Incidents?’
‘Yes. Since we moved in. Silly things. Stuff being moved around the garden. A stone thrown through our shed window. Probably just kids …’
‘I’ve had the same with the back gate,’ I say, in a rush, ‘and I thought someone was in my garden. This is usually a safe area, but …’
‘It is a city at the end of the day,’ she says, reaching for an oversized pair of sunglasses from her pale-yellow Dior quilted handbag and slipping them on. I look at her handbag wistfully. I’ve got a weakness for bags. Unfortunately a designer one is beyond my budget.
A horn toots and we jump. Henry inclines his head at Marielle.
‘Whoops, here’s me chatting away. I’d better go, but thanks, Lena. And lovely to see you, Rufus,’ she adds. She scuttles towards the car in her kitten heels. She waves as Henry pulls away from the kerb and we watch as he drives at a snail’s pace down the street.
When they’ve gone Rufus turns to me, shaking his head, laughter in his eyes. ‘I can’t believe you think that old couple are up to something dodgy.’ He blows his fringe out of his face and heads down the front path, leaving me to get his equipment from the boot.
Rufus goes up to bed early and I stay downstairs for a while longer, flopped onto the sofa with Phoenix curled up by my side, watchingSelling Sunset. At least I can binge-watch reality TV now that Charlie doesn’t live here any more. He only ever wanted to watch serious dramas about drug cartels or spies. I turn off the TV. The living-room window is open wide, and the night is still, with only the occasional drone of an aeroplane overhead, or a far-off vehicle.
I get up, about to turn the lights off, when I hear it.
A baby crying.
I move to the window. It sounds like it’s coming from the Morgans’ house. But it can’t be. Marielle told me herself that they’re away tonight.
The cries are louder now, more insistent. I pull aside the curtains and poke my head out of the window. The street is deserted. It’s gone eleven. No, I’m not imagining it. The cries are definitely coming from next door. Perhaps, at the last minute, Marielle called her son and daughter-in-law and asked them to house-sit. Phoenix cocks his head at me, noticing my agitation, and I bend down to soothe him. Then I go to the front door, stepping out into the warm night air. There are no lights on next door. It looks deserted.
They asked you to keep an eye on the house, a little voice inside my head pipes up.You’re doing nothing wrong if you want to check.
Before I can talk myself out of it I dart into the kitchen, grab Joan’s spare key and my phone, then close the front door quietly behind me so as not to alert Rufus. Adrenaline surges through me as I hurry down their front path. Theydon’t have a Ring doorbell and I can’t see any cameras. They don’t even have a security light, and I approach their front door in darkness. I hesitate. What should I do? They could have an alarm.
I decide to knock in case Heidi or the Morgans’ son is there. When nobody comes to the door I knock again, my heart thudding. I peer through the semicircle of glass in their front door, but the hallway is in darkness. The house looks empty. I step back, peering at their upstairs windows. They are all closed. Surely if someone was in, the windows would be open. It’s so muggy, even at this late hour.
I glance over my shoulder. Can the neighbours opposite see me? It’s so dark in the Morgans’ front garden that it’s doubtful. Before I’ve had the chance to change my mind I fish in my pocket for Joan’s key and put it into the lock. I hold my breath as I turn the key, half expecting it not to work. But the door opens. I brace myself for some kind of alarm system, planning to close the door and run back to my house if it suddenly goes off, but there’s nothing. Gingerly, I step over the threshold and close the door behind me.
The hallway is wider and more impressive than mine, with high, ornate ceilings and original cornicing that was unfortunately stripped from my house by the previous owner. Overhead there is a huge glass chandelier, and a pair of Marielle’s gold ballet pumps sits neatly by the old-school radiator along with a pair of highly polished brown leather lace-ups. The newly painted stone-coloured walls are bare, with no photos or any personal touches, like pictures or even mirrors. Shadows play upon the walls, and I pause,straining to hear the baby. But there is just silence. Did I imagine the crying baby? Perhaps it was coming from somewhere else after all. Now I’m here I don’t know what to do. What am I hoping to achieve?
I should go home but curiosity takes over. I think of everything that’s happened since the Morgans moved in: the conversation I overheard on the boom mic, the man caught on tape swearing about my dog, the fact Sarah-Jane was being followed by a blue classic car, Henry lying about her being sacked, his coldness towards Drew. But it’s more than that. It’s a feeling I’ve got deep in my gut, something unsettling, that makes me feel uneasy. Something abouthim. I have to trust my instinct this time. After all, look what happened during my training. I was only nineteen then. I knew nothing about the world, or about the people in it. I didn’t know about the darkness that could lurk behind a respectable exterior. Behind adoctor.I was too scared to speak up. But I’m not that innocent young girl any more.
With resolve I push open the door to the left. It creaks on its hinges, sounding overly loud and creepy in the dark, empty house, like in a horror movie. I blink a few times, hoping my eyes will adjust. I don’t want to turn on a main light so instead I use the torch on my phone. I sweep the triangle of light around the room, which is empty. And then it lands on the far wall, and I gasp. I step further into the room. At first I think it’s some kind of trendy wallpaper, but as I get closer I can see that it’s newspaper clippings, layered on top of each other, taking up nearly half the wall. What is this? I move my phone to see them better,but because of the way they are pinned together they are hard to make out.
BABY FOUND ON HOS …
… ORGANS FOR RESEARCH AT …
DRUGS LORD FOUND DEAD IN …
BRIGHT SPARKS WIN NATIONAL AWARD
… ADOPTION RACKET WITNESS SPEAKS …
