“What’s happened? Are the kids—”
“Frank’s got cancer.”
I stopped walking and listened as Haze rattled off everything Jenny had said.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Haze
Frank was sick, and therewas nothing we could do about it. Reggie was asleep. Bibi didn’t need picking up for four hours. I was too sad to paint, too angry to watch TV.
I’d given Fox a long list of special items to buy for a large hamper for Frank and Sandy, which would do absolutely nothing, except make me feel like we were doing something.
I got up to make a cup of tea and tripped over a toy car. I picked it up and flung it across the room.
I looked around the kitchen and the random piles of toys that we’d accepted as part of our lives now. I walked into the playroom and saw the overflowing cupboards, more toys, the corners of the room filled with treacherous piles of Lego. I might have no control over certain things in my life, but this total god-awful mess was something I could conquer. I pulled everything out. It was going to get worse before it got better.
I pressed play on a Beastie Boys album, ramped up the volume, and got to work.
By the time pickup was looming, I had filled five boxes with old toys, rejected toys, and plastic crap I just didn’t want to look at anymore. Three I’d marked for the charity shop, and the rest for the tip.
I took a breath and looked around. I hadn’t solved any of thebig life problems I was facing, but somehow I felt a little better. Clearing out was therapeutic. I should tell Fox. Save money on talking to Stupid Sally and just clean the house.
I had just enough time before getting Bibi to drop everything off. I parked up outside the charity shop and started pulling things out of the boot.
The bald man behind the counter spotted me and came to the door to help. “You’ve got a lot here!” he said as he took two boxes off me.
“Finally had a big clear-out of the playroom.”
“Oh, thank god it’s all kids’ stuff.”
“Why?”
“We get a lot of women dropping off stuff belonging to their errant husbands, and then it all gets a bit awkward when said husbands come in demanding it back.”
“That happens a lot?”
“You have no idea. There’s a lot of bad men out there.” He took a beat and looked at me.
What the fuck? Was he another of The Chameleon’s plants?
I shook it off. How the hell was The Chameleon to know that I’d wake up one morning and decide to offload piles of stuff to a charity shop? This paranoia was getting too much.
“I’m Freddie.” He kept looking at me. “You’re local, aren’t you? I’ve definitely seen you around.”
“Yes.” I checked my watch. “I’d better get going.”
“Well, don’t be a stranger!” Freddie whistled to himself as he put everything under the counter.
I left the shop, looking back over my shoulder once to see him standing there, staring at me. I gave a little wave, to which he gave a thumbs-up. He was just a nice, slightly odd man who volunteered at a charity shop. He was a good person, and I was a killer who saw threats everywhere.
I picked up Bibi and got her to poke Reggie the whole drive back so he wouldn’t fall asleep and ruin bedtime.
Fox was waiting for us when I walked into the kitchen. He’d had his black-tie outfit dry-cleaned in preparation for the party, and it was hanging up on one of the cupboard doors.
He gestured around the toy-free kitchen. “It looks amazing down here. Thank you.”
“How were they?”
