‘I really do appreciate this, Ned.’
‘No worries. I’ll let you make me a nice cup of coffee for my troubles.’
‘I’d love to, but I don’t have any milk in the house.’
‘Good job I drink mine black then, isn’t it?’
Morgan forced a smile. Other than the occasional workman entering the house to do maintenance, no other man since Bren’s funeral had been in the house. Her stomach knotted. Would she be betraying his memory if Ned came in?
Ned had put the key back in the keyhole and opened the door while she was daydreaming about her dilemma. ‘Oh, it’s done already?’
‘Good as new, I’d say.’ Ned handed her the key and Morgan passed the leashes back to Ned. He took hold of them but didn’t make a move to leave.
‘Erm, well come in.’
Morgan stepped over the threshold first and waited for Ned and his pets to enter before closing the door. The smell of the past immediately overwhelmed her senses, it always did. She could smell the wood of the banister, the nylon of the carpets, the faint smell of a life she once had when she lived there.
Ned looked around. ‘This is nice.’
Morgan laughed softly. ‘Is that a polite way of saying the decor desperately needs bringing into the twenty-first century?’
Ned screwed up his face before smiling. ‘Hey, my place is nothing to shout out about, and I thought I was the only one who still rocked decor influenced from the eighties and nineties, but I think you’ve trumped me.’
Morgan soft laugh became louder. ‘Just say it as it is why don’t you, Ned?’
Ned’s hand flew up to his mouth. ‘That came out more brutal than I intended, I do apologise Morgan.’
Morgan shook her head with a smile. ‘There’s no need to. Really. I know this house is locked into a time warp, and I know I can’t let it continue to sit here like this. It’s loved, but unloved. But I’m hesitant because changing anything will sever my connection to...well, to Bren.’
Ned nodded, his lips pulled into a thin smile. ‘I understand. I know we’ve never really talked about Bren, but it must have been devastating to have lost him the way you did.’
Morgan’s chest tightened. Even now it hurt to talk about it. She nodded. She remembered her dream. ‘It was, but it was a long time ago.’ She pointed towards the kitchen. ‘Come on. Let’s make sure my taps haven’t seized up as well before I attempt to fill the kettle.’ She laughed, breaking the intimate tension.
Morgan headed for the cupboard she kept the condiments and whatnot in, hoping she still had some coffee left. Opening the door, she spotted a jar half hidden by a bottle of ketchupwhich was a suspicious shade of red she was in little doubt was growing the first stages of penicillin inside.
She heard Ned filling the kettle behind her and a small smile spread over her mouth. He was always so practical and helpful. Reaching for the coffee, she peered apprehensively inside the jar as she shook it. The granules looked dry, and they moved freely. She sighed with relief but looked for the expiry date just in case.
‘Ugh, the coffee expired the end of last month.’
‘Pah. I don’t take any notice of dates. There weren’t dates on food before fancy packaging was introduced to the food industry, so just use your instincts.’
Morgan’s brow lifted. ‘Oookaay.’ She uncrewed the lid, feeling sceptical before lifting the jar to her nose and inhaling. The coffee still smelled good. She looked at Ned surprised. ‘I think it smells alright.’ Ned was opening doors looking for mugs. ‘Last one on the left.’
He looked back over his shoulder with a grin. ‘It would be, wouldn’t it? Sorry, I wasn’t prying.’
‘I know.’
He got two mugs out and placed them on the counter and Morgan opened the drawer containing the cutlery. They moved in synch around the small kitchen, as if they’d lived as roomies for years.
After pouring hot water over the coffee granules sitting at the bottom of mugs she hadn’t used for years, Morgan stirred and handed a steaming mug to Ned. ‘Thanks.’
She looked down at Laurel and Hardy who were lying down on the vinyl floor. ‘Should I get them a drink of water?’
Ned shook his head. ‘No, it’s fine. Thank you. They’ll be home soon.’ He looked around the kitchen. ‘So, is this a maintenance check-up coming back to your once home?’
The statement was innocent, but it hit her harder than she realised it would.
Once home.
