‘Our cat.’
‘Sure. I love cats.’
‘We’ve kind of adopted him. I don’t know who he belongs to, but he seems to love our house and he calls in twice a day for food and cuddles.’ She looks so innocent, standing there in an expensive lemon dress with a cream Peter Pan collar and matching pumps, talking about a beloved animal, yet this woman might know where Simone is or have done something to hurt her. She could be a criminal mastermind behind that smiley, butter-wouldn’t-melt facade, but she could also be a victim of Henry. My stomach turns over when I remember my conversation with Oliver. The newspaper articles. The keyring. The fake baby. The lies. All the lies. Not to mention their conversation about ‘getting caught’.
‘Lena?’
I haven’t said anything for a few seconds. ‘Um, sorry.’ I grip the edge of the door for support.
‘The cat. Would you mind feeding him for us while we’re away?’
I throw a worried glance towards Henry. Is he okay with this? He was so angry when he found out I’d let myself into their house. He’d threatened me. Told me to leave them alone. He obviously hasn’t mentioned it to Marielle, and I’m grateful for that, at least. I turn my attention back to her. She is looking at me with concern.
‘Sure. I’d be happy to.’
She smiles in relief. ‘Thank you so much. That would be a big help. You’re really the only neighbour we’ve got to know since moving in.’ I’m tempted to ask how her grandson is, but she looks so jittery standing there. She presses the key into my hand. ‘We should be back by Monday, all being well. I’ve left instructions in the house.’
‘Great, thanks. Does the cat have specific mealtimes?’
‘Just morning and evening. Any time.’
‘Okay.’ My gaze turns to Henry but he’s looking straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
‘Thanks again, Lena.’ She claps her hands together, rushes back to the car and gets in on the passenger side. I watch them drive away. Marielle waves, but Henry keeps his eyes firmly on the road, as though I don’t exist.
‘You’ll never guess what,’ I say to Jo, when I call her five minutes later. ‘Marielle has given me a key. Wants me to feed her cat.’
‘What? You’re kidding!’
‘Nope. Henry obviously hasn’t told her about me letting myself in. I’ll take more photos of the wall. See if there are other things that link Simone’s disappearance to the Morgans. That newspaper cutting I found on Rufus actually belongs to his guitar teacher.’ I recount my conversation last night, including finding Charlie in my back garden and his text denying it.
‘It couldn’t have been Charlie,’ she says, too quickly.
‘The camera doesn’t lie, Jo.’
‘Well, give him a chance to explain.’
Jo is my biggest champion, always supporting me. Granted, she never slagged Charlie off, but I knew, without her having to say it, that she was on my side. Yet now she’s sticking up for him.
I bite back my irritation. I don’t want to get into this. ‘How much do I owe Paul for the camera?’ I ask instead.
‘Nothing. He’s happy to do it. And, Lena …’ she pauses ‘… leave it to Oliver to decide what he’s going to do. You’ve told him everything, right? It’s his responsibility now. Simone’s his sister.’
53
I wait until six o’clock to let myself into the Morgans’ house. I have to remind myself that I’m not doing anything illegal. They gave me their key and I have a legitimate reason to be there. Still, my mouth is dry as I step over the threshold. I pocket the key and stand in the hallway, watching as the light refracts through the glass droplets of their extravagant chandelier, casting a kaleidoscope of colours on the walls.
It’s a strange feeling, being back here, and I’m suddenly struck with paranoia. As though they’re watching me. I glance up at the ceiling to see if there are any hidden cameras. Is that how Henry knew I was here last time? I mentally shake myself. So what if there are cameras? I’m only doing what they asked.
I head into their immaculate kitchen. On the marble worktop sits a box of cat food and a cat’s bowl. Marielle has written a note with instructions. I’m to use half a packet of Felix, then leave it outside their bifold doors for the cat to eat. I do as it says, then stand at their doors, looking out onto their manicured garden. I notice the gap in the hedge. I step onto the patio and cross the sun-dried lawn, peering down into the gap. I can see how easy itwould be for Henry to ease himself through it and into my garden. And I think of how my back gate was left open before, and Charlie lurking in my garden last night.
I go back inside, closing the bi-folds behind me. I should just leave. Go home, but the temptation to snoop is too great.
‘It’s too risky. We could get caught, Mari.’
‘We didn’t last time.’
I can’t resist going back into the small room at the bottom of the stairs.
