Page 80 of Her Lips Are Sealed

She quickly dressed and went outside not bothering to lock her door. She climbed over the low wall that separated their houses and knocked on the front door. The cat was snaking itself around her legs and despite her aversion to them she leaned down and stroked it.

‘Is everything okay in there?’

It miaowed again.

Lifting the letter flap, she let it slam shut and knew immediately by the smell that everything wasn’t okay. Her heart sank. Trying the door handle, it pushed down and she lifted her arm to cover her nose. She knew she better call it in, but she had to check in case the woman needed medical attention and was clinging on to life.

She saw her from behind, slumped in her armchair, and realised she didn’t have her phone on her to ring it in.

‘Hello, do you need help, Mrs Foster?’

Wendy knew Mrs Foster was beyond help, but she cautiously made her way around to check.

Her face slack, her false teeth hanging out, thankfully her eyes were closed. She’d died in her chair. The TV was still on, the theme music to Benidorm playing over and over again.

Wendy sighed.

The cat jumped up on the arm of the chair, pushing itself against its owner’s hand.

‘Hey, come on, cat.’

She leaned forward and scooped it up, expecting it to put up a fight, but it seemed happy to have some human contact and pressed its body against her chest. She felt so bad for it, felt so bad for Mrs Foster. If she’d bothered to check in with her last night, she might have been able to get help for her.

Wendy hurriedly left and went next door, where, putting the cat down, she phoned 999 and told them what she’d found, and then she texted Morgan because she might hear the call come in and worry about her. Then she took the last tin of tuna out of the cupboard, opened it and poured the lot into a bowl for the cat. Hungrily, it began to eat it, and she wondered how long Mrs Foster had been dead. It looked as if it was a couple of days. Her hands were a little mottled yellow and green.

There was a knock at her door, and she opened it to see a guy in a pair of green scrubs standing there. He smiled at her and she thought that her lucky stars had just been answered, he was gorgeous.

‘Can I help you?’

He nodded. ‘I live a couple of doors down and saw you go in with the cat from next door. Is everything okay with the old lady?’

Wendy let out a long sigh. ‘Do you want to come in?’

He nodded and she stepped to one side to let him in.

As she headed into the kitchen, she never saw the smile on his face as he closed and locked the door behind him.

‘Are you a doctor?’

‘A vet.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame. Poor Mrs Foster is dead. She’s just sitting there in her chair and I feel so bad. You could have pronounced her dead if you’d been a doctor.’

‘Oh no, that’s awful. I could still probably do that.’

‘Oh, I’ll tell the officers when they get here, that would save them a bit of time.’

His face changed slightly. ‘Are the police on their way here?’

‘No, next door.’

‘What are you going to do about the cat?’

‘I don’t know, they’re not really my thing but I feel so bad for it. It was making a racket outside my window last night, but I was ill, so I ignored it.’

‘You weren’t to know especially if you were poorly and let’s be honest it’s the noisiest cat I’ve ever come across. It’s often yowling outside my window too, so I’d have done the same.’

She laughed. ‘You would?’