‘Mum? Mum!’
I give myself a shake. Eva is looking up at me like I’ve lost the plot.
‘What are we going to do?’ she asks. ‘I want to go in.’ Her face is pale and drawn, little tributaries of rainwater slipping down her forehead, cheeks and chin.
‘I’ll give Dad a call.’ Although he hasn’t returned any of my calls this morning, so I hope he’s between clients and his phone is switched on. I pull out my mobile and thankfully Robert answers on the third ring. I briefly explain about being locked out. He’s at the gym, but says he’ll be here in ten minutes.
It’s more like twenty minutes before we see the welcome sight of his VW Golf turning into the driveway. I suppose I could have asked next door if we could wait at theirs, but I couldn’t face making small talk with anyone. Not after the morning I’ve had. And we would then have had to explain why Eva isn’t at school. In the end, we found shelter under an overhanging laurel bush in the drive, huddling together to keep warm, like a couple of stray cats.
Robert emerges from the car dressed in his work gear. ‘What are you two doing home?’ he asks, light brown hair flopping down over one eye, his smile faltering when he sees our expressions. ‘Are you all right? You’re soaked.’
‘Haven’t you checked your phone messages?’ I ask.
‘My messages? No. Why? I’ve had back-to-back clients all morning. I’d only just finished when I got your call. What’s happened? You okay, Eva?’ He bends down to give her a kiss and then looks at me, his forehead creasing. He puts a hand on my arm. ‘Let’s get inside. You’re freezing.’
His key slides neatly into the lock and turns effortlessly. The door swings open and we fall gratefully into the hall. It seems like days since we were last home, rather than a few hours. My feet are now blistered and throbbing and I kick my shoes off, vowing never to wear them again.
‘Did you forget your key?’ he asks.
‘No. I’ve got it, but it doesn’t work.’
‘Let me try.’
I hand it to my husband and tell Eva to go and have a warm shower and get into dry clothes.
‘Am I in trouble?’ Eva asks, her voice wobbling.
‘Just go upstairs and get dry,’ I say gently. ‘We’ll talk later.’ On our walk back from school, Eva was subdued. I didn’t push her to talk, mainly because of the storm, but also because I’m not even sure how I feel about her behaviour. She should never have hit her friend, but Lauren backed my daughter into a corner.
‘You’re right,’ Robert says, coming back inside, wiping the rain from his face. ‘It doesn’t work.’
I give him a look.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I had to give it a try, just in case.’
‘Let me seeyourkey,’ I say.
We hold our keys out to compare.
‘They’re different!’ I note the configuration of the keys’ teeth. ‘Look, yours has two small ridges there, and mine has a single, larger one. How can that be?’
‘Are you sure you used the right key?’ Robert checks my other keys against his, but none of them match.
‘That’s impossible,’ I say. ‘How can my key have changed?’ I stare down at the dull gold metal, wondering for a moment if I’m losing my grip.
‘Are you sure you didn’t pick up the wrong set?’
‘No. All my other keys are here – my car key, work keys. It’s just the front door that’s different.’
‘Weird,’ Robert says.
I run the tip of my forefinger along the metal ridges, ignoring the water pooling at my feet from my dripping clothes. I didn’t change the key – I would have remembered. So how could this have happened? Unless someone else swapped it out? Could someone have changed it on purpose… the same person who spray-painted my car?
‘You’re shivering, Gem. We can figure this out after you get dry, and then you can tell me what’s going on with Eva.’
I nod and make my way upstairs, still trying to work out what could have happened.
After we’re both finally warm and dry, Eva goes upstairs to make a start on her homework, and Robert and I sit at the kitchen table.
