I try not to look horrified at the prospect of hanging out with Charlie’s new girlfriend. ‘Ah, thanks, but it’s okay. I’ve … I can, erm, meet Jo or something. And I’m just glad he’s happy. Especially after what happened last year at school.’
Charlie immediately clams up. Even after all this time he still doesn’t want to talk about it.
‘What is it?’ I bark. ‘You’ve always been so …weirdwhenever I’ve brought up Rufus’s bullying. You can’t always bury your head in the sand.’
‘And you can’t always poke yours above the parapet,’ he retorts.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He shakes his head. ‘You haven’t changed.’
‘And neither have you.’
We glare at each other. How dare he? Why doesn’t he ever want to face anything? I literally have to bite my tongue to stop all the things I’ve kept quiet about, all the resentments and his failings, spilling from my lips. We have to co-parent our son. We can’t afford to fall out.
‘Tell Rufus and Freddie I’ll wait in the van,’ he says coldly.
‘It’s too hot. You don’t have to do that …’
‘It’s fine. I’ll see you when I see you.’ And then he stalks out.
This is exactly why we split up.This.His inability to discuss anything that makes him feel uncomfortable. Maybe he’s different with his new woman.
Five minutes later Rufus rushes into the kitchen with his backpack to give me a kiss goodbye, Freddie hovering behind him with the tripod. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he calls.
‘Bye, Mrs Fletcher,’ adds Freddie. The front door bangs shut, and they’re gone.
I feel bad for snapping at Charlie. For a moment at the kitchen table, sharing memories of Rufus, I’d felt close to him again. I’m also worried about what Susi is going to do with me on Monday. Charlie and Jo were right. I shouldn’t have got involved with Drew and Henry, but now it’s too late. I can’t erase everything I’ve learnt about the Morgans in the last week. I can’t unhear their conversation or unsee the strange things in their house.
I take Phoenix out for his evening walk. The air feels stuffy and polluted. A few others are also walking dogs, or ambling along alone, or in pairs, as I take a circuitous routearound the residential streets, stopping every now and again for Phoenix to cock his leg against a lamppost. When I return I see Henry and Marielle in their car, pulling away from the kerb. Marielle waves at me as they pass, and I watch as they drive down the street. They must be going away again, and I’m relieved, although Marielle didn’t ask me to keep an eye on their house this time.
It’s nearly dark now, and when I get in I let Phoenix off his lead and slump onto the sofa. I keep thinking about Susi’s phone call earlier and how annoyed she’d sounded. I can’t afford to lose my job and I wonder again if Drew has dobbed me in.
I’m just about to turn on the TV to watch something I can sink into and not think too deeply about when my mobile buzzes on the coffee-table in front of me. Drew’s name flashes up on the screen.
‘Hello. Drew?’ I answer cagily, wondering what kind of mood he’s going to be in.
‘Hi. Yes. Sorry, Lena. I hope it’s okay to call, but I thought you’d want to know how I got on at the police station.’
‘Oh. Yes, absolutely.’
He sounds fired up. ‘Well, they didn’t disregard me as readily as I thought they would. They took a statement and they listened to your recording. And they took it seriously when I told them what Milly said about her being followed by a cla– Oh, hold on. The officer I spoke to is trying to get through. Can I call you back?’
‘Sure. Bye.’
He ends the call and disappointment rips through me that he’s left me hanging.
I expect him to call me back but at least an hour passes and he still hasn’t. I stop myself reaching for my phone to text him. I’m desperate to know what the police have said, and what they plan to do, but I can’t look too eager because I’ve already given Drew the wrong impression and my job is in jeopardy.
I’m watchingThe Traitors US, but I can’t concentrate. I get up, go to the window and look out onto the street. There is no sign of Henry’s car. I doubt they’ll be back tonight. I think of Joan’s spare key sitting in my kitchen drawer.
I have to know what they’re hiding. I have to find something,anything, that might shed light on what they’re planning.
I wait until it’s completely dark, when I’m as sure as I can be that Henry and Marielle aren’t going to come home, before slipping out of the house with Joan’s spare key. It’s nearly eleven o’clock and the length of the street outside is quiet. Further down at the opposite end I can see a cluster of youths, but they are walking the other way, towards Gloucester Road. There is a light on in the house across the street, but the curtains are drawn. When I’m certain I won’t be spotted, I creep down the Morgans’ front path and let myself into their house. With trepidation I step over the threshold, taking in the familiar musky smell of their hallway. This time I head straight for their magnificent kitchen. It looks like it belongs in a high-end magazine. There are two suede sofas in the corner and a small TV on the wall. Everything is meticulously tidy, unlike my kitchen, where the tabletop is littered with Rufus’s college work, orunopened post. I go to the sliding doors and turn the lock. This time I’ll plan my escape route and leave via these doors. If I slip through the gap in the hedge I’ll have less chance of being spotted. Moonlight streams in from the Velux window above but I still need to use the torch on my phone to light the way, and it reflects back at me from the opaque glass. I must look like a burglar.
I rummage through their drawers, not even knowing what I’m looking for, but hoping something will stand out. Something that proves what they’re up to.
And then I hear it.
