‘I’m very sorry. We did have a woman electrician here, but she left last year.’
‘Can you tell me her name?’
A pause. When she speaks again there is a new frostiness to her tone. ‘No, I’m afraid not. What is this concerning?’
‘Sorry. I’m only asking as I’d love to find her because my … um, mother is very elderly and she’d feel more comfortable with a woman electrician …’ I falter, my face flaming at the lie.
‘Oh, I see.’ I sense her softening. ‘Of course. I’m so sorry I can’t help you.’
‘Perhaps if you gave me her name I could see if she’s gone to another firm.’
‘She hasn’t. She left very suddenly. I think she’s no longer in the field. I’m sure there are other companies who employ women electricians. I suggest you look around.’
‘But I …’
‘Sorry I couldn’t help. Goodbye,’ she says firmly, and ends the call.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ I mutter, under my breath, staring down at my mobile.
‘What’s up?’ Rufus lumbers into the room, closely followed by Kit. He flops onto one of the kitchen chairs and Kit stands awkwardly by the patio doors.
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ I say, not wanting to get into it, especially in front of Kit. ‘I’m just trying to find someone I used to work with, that’s all.’
‘Why’s that?’ Rufus pushes his fringe from his eyes. His hair needs cutting.
‘It’s a long story.’
Rufus eyes me suspiciously. ‘Is this to do with the neighbours again?’ He turns to Kit and rolls his eyes. ‘Mum thinks the neighbours are a couple of psychos …’
‘Hey! I’ve never said that.’
Kit takes a seat next to Rufus, his blue eyes brightening with interest. ‘Really? What, like serial killers?’
‘Yeah,’ says Rufus. ‘She’s been watching too many thrillers with me.’
‘I don’t think they’re serial killers,’ I say, with a laugh, pushing the patio doors shut with my foot. ‘And keep your voice down. They might hear you.’
‘Mum’s suspicious of them, then,’ he says to Kit, ‘because she overheard them talking about something illegal.’
Kit straightens, his eyes widening. ‘Really?’
‘No! Rufus,’ I admonish. ‘Stop it.’
‘Oh, come on,’ he says, warming to his theme and I can tell he’s enjoying this, showing off in front of someone older, like Kit.
‘It was nothing, really,’ I say firmly.
‘So why are you looking up your old work colleague?’ asks Kit.
‘I’ve just been, um, thinking a lot about the past, that’s all, and decided it would be nice to get in touch. We were good friends once, back when we were both midwives.’
‘And this has nothing to do with the Morgans?’ says Rufus, doubtfully.
‘Who are the Morgans?’ asks Kit.
‘The neighbours,’ I explain. ‘Marielle and Henry. And, no, this has nothing to do with them, Ruf.’
I notice Rufus throwing Kit a look of disbelief, but Kit is too polite to say anything further. Instead he glances at his watch and stands up. ‘Anyway, I’d better go. I’ve got another lesson to teach at six. Nice seeing you again, Lena.’
