Then she speaks, slowly and deliberately. ‘When I was child, family own house by lake in mountain village. Run bar by lake. Window look onto water so green. It was good life. My father took us on holiday to Berat. Town of one thousand windows. “So many windows,” Mother said. “More windows give you better view.” He bought house for her in town of windows. Expensive house. Turn into guest house. Father drive people to bars in taxi all night. Drive transport workers to factories in morning. Never look out of window. Never see lake again. Die from heart attack. My mother sit looking out of window for rest of life, wishing to see my father row home to her on lake. Kai has money to give me good view from window. He is not ugly and not cruel. I do not need a thousand other windows. I settle for this.’
She grabs Doodle’s sausages and pulls him away from me. ‘Will keep dog till transfer complete. And move bag and plants out of flat.’ Doodle whines as she drags him behind her and I’m left standing in the hall on my own.
Chapter 32
There’s only one thing for it. I declutter. Filming some video for my #ChuckOutTheTrash hashtag, I stuff possessions haphazardly into a black bin bag and sneak the real rubbish into next door’s skip. Afternoon bleeds into evening and by the next day I’ve nothing left to clear out. I buy my coffee from Joe, warming myself on its heat, as I tell him about the fair and how his dad stepped in to praise me. I keep the Aurora attack brief as I’m still processing it and also she’s hit a nerve. What if I am a charlatan?
But he’s intuitive. ‘You need some fun. I’m coming round tonight to cheer you up.’ He breaks off to take a call and I wander to the station to pick up a paper, worried Aurora’s next column will outline my heinous crimes in black and white. She is an investigative reporter after all. Twice I pick up my phone to call Vince and ask him what they were discussing. But I ring off before he answers.
Eva brings Doodle. The atmosphere in our hallway is as frosty as the pavement outside. ‘Tea?’ I am tentative, wondering how I can get us back onto an even footing.
‘No. Friend have back. Thought you had mine.’
‘Come on, Eva, your wedding announcement had more drama than an episode ofMarried at First Sight Australia. I responded in the moment.’
‘Had time to judge!’ She snorts, before taking a bin bag out of her pocket and chucking in some bedding. ‘Daisy need to stop being afraid.’
‘I’m not afraid.’
‘To love. To live. To enjoy life. Always looking out of window and not walking through door.’
‘Bollocks.’ I grab one side of the bag and she wrestles it back.
‘Bollocks is father busking outside station. Every day. Hope to see you, to connect with only daughter. Too scared to support him in case he want to be family.’ She makes a clicking noise with her jaw as a quilt follows a pillow into the bag. ‘Won’t make it with Joe because afraid to be naked.’ She adds a hot water bottle she finds under a sofa cushion.
‘I am fine with taking my clothes off. We had sex. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it.’
‘Did hear it. Felt like I was in same room. But not that kind of naked.’
‘Dad pushed me away, not the other way around. I took you in. You’re my family.’
‘Here.’ She picks up her phone, taps a couple of times. ‘One month of rent till find someone else.’
‘I don’t want money.’ My eyes start to well up. ‘I enjoyed you being here.’
‘Then why miserable face? Why conker stinking in garden and towel over bathroom mirror? So busy looking out for bad luck, not notice how lucky you are. Why two for joy? What is wrong with one?’
‘A single magpie means the mate has died. I’ve told you that many times.’
‘But magpie have relationship before that. Have chance of making magpie babies, two or three.’ She pats her belly.
I look at her side on. ‘You are pregnant after all?’
She sighs. ‘Daisy suspicious and superstitious and super-sad.’ She tilts her head before continuing. ‘Throw pound into hat of father when pass him doing “Your Song” again and ask him to play new tune with you. Cook dinner and try to reconnect. Tell Joe you love him and make life with him.’ She pulls her hot water bottle back out from the bag and thrusts it into my face.
‘Kai make hot water bottle for period pain. Make breakfast in bed, every morning. Always keep shower fixed to my temperature as don’t like too hot. Promote me to Head of Spa in nice hotel. Make promise to have children. And send money home to family in Albania and visit with me. I love him. Lucky to have found him.’ She pauses for breath and stuffs the rubber bottle back in, securing the neck first. ‘Also laugh in bed after good, possibly great sex.’
‘You are good at your job. You shouldn’t have to sleep with him to prove yourself.’
Eva looks like she might be about to spit fire. ‘You are not listening to me. Kai isgood luckfor me. Joe is good luck for you, but superstition and insecurity drive him away. You need it written in crack in pavement to see it?’
When she leaves, I sink onto the sofa, with nothing to offer followers apart from a video about carting stuff to a charity shop. Eva is right. I’ll be the old lady with the sausage rolls if I’m not careful. I sit down, grab my flip chart, and think about what I would advise if I was my own happiness counsellor. I list everything that makes me feel good on one side of the chart. And then, before beginning the other side, I realise something. My shadow side isn’t darkness or shame. It’s something else. I pull the rabbit foot out of my pocket and stroke it with my thumb, before throwing it into the bin. For the first time ever, I smash Litterbin Olympics. And Eva isn’t here to share the joy.
In the evening, Joe turns up unannounced, bringing shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. ‘My dad called me. He’s worried about you. You didn’t tell me how vicious Aurora was at the fair.’
‘How does he know your number?’
‘We’ve worked a few things out.’
