Finding Grace(62)

She’d already decided she wouldn’t return it to him right away; she’d hear what he had to say, first. She would hold the threat of the authorities over him a little longer. He certainly seemed more eager to speak to her while that was the case.

She walked the few yards to the house. Stefan lived in a three-storey Victorian villa that had long since been converted into six small flats with a communal bathroom, lounge and kitchen. Lucie had been around there a handful of times but Stefan had told her he refused to sit in the lounge when the landlady was around.

‘She’s a nosy cow,’ he complained. It occurred to Lucie at that point that he seemed to have a problem with women. Anyone who didn’t bow to his demands was labelled insufficient in some way.

There were four other men living there, and of course Rhonda, who’d apparently moved in at the start of the new term when she embarked on studying for her degree. Like Stefan, that was not her first course.

Lucie had felt jealous of her at first, had felt envious and was worried that Rhonda would turn Stefan’s head. But she needn’t have worried.

‘She’s a snooty bitch who thinks she’s above the rest of us,’ he’d fumed one day when Rhonda asked him to tidy up his DVDs, which were scattered all over the lounge floor. ‘Always done up like a dog’s dinner too, the little whore. She could do with someone giving her a lesson in manners.’

Lucie felt uncomfortable at his obvious vitriol, but relieved at the same time. Although Rhonda always seemed to be simpering around him when they were out, Stefan obviously couldn’t stand her, so she pushed any thoughts of the two of them hooking up out of her mind.

Stefan seemed reluctant for her to visit often but that didn’t matter because Lucie hated spending time at the house. Even though the landlord kept it fairly well-maintained inside, the ageing property was in need of some structural work doing. It was cold and had draughty rotten windows that sucked any warmth from the three-bar fire.

The landlady and her husband often visited the property, cleaning and pottering around downstairs, and although she’d seen them both from a distance, she’d never actually met them.

Stefan increasingly insisted they spend time together there, instead of in Lucie’s admittedly tiny but clean room on the university campus. Once she was with him, though, and they were relaxing with a drink, she forgot all about her surroundings and focused on the man she loved.

It had seemed that life was so good. And now this.

As Lucie approached, she saw the front door was slightly ajar. Stefan’s room was on the top floor and he probably wouldn’t hear her knock anyway above the music he told her he liked to constantly play in the background.

So she pushed it open. She felt disappointed that Stefan was nowhere to be seen. He’d asked her to text him as soon as she was in the taxi and she had done so. He hadn’t replied but she’d expected a bit of a welcome when she got here; he’d seemed so eager to have his chance to explain.

Someone had put the chain on the front door but hadn’t quite secured it properly, and when Lucie pushed it, the chain slipped off and she was able to get in.

She walked past the communal kitchen, wrinkling her nose at the food-caked crockery piled high on the side. Half-eaten kebabs and pizzas spilled out of their cartons and cardboard boxes on the table in the middle of the room.

She held her breath and walked quickly past the mess, only breathing properly when she reached the inner hallway and the stairs.

She heard Stefan’s music drifting down from the top floor, and there was rather a lot of banging, too. It sounded like someone was moving furniture around.

Lucie started to climb the stairs.





Forty-Four





Lucie





Monday afternoon





After Barbara Charterhouse’s impromptu visit, I go back upstairs, not trusting myself to avoid a scene in front of Fiona.

I hear raised voices from in the hallway; Blake and my dad. It’s clear they’re having some kind of disagreement but I don’t go down. After what I’ve found out, I just don’t feel strong enough to face Dad right now.

I hear the front door open and slam shut, followed by low voices speaking.

Blake seems contrite when he follows me up. ‘Your dad’s gone home. I offered to drive him but he insisted on calling a cab.’ He hesitates. ‘Why don’t you have a little lie-down, Luce, maybe take one of Dr Mahmoud’s tablets?’

‘Why’s that? To stop me wondering why she wanted to speak to me?’ I snap. ‘I’m assuming that’s why you got rid of her so quickly?’

‘It was just a gut reaction to send her packing before she upset you again,’ he sighs. ‘She’s a trouble maker. You know that.’

I sit on the edge of the bed and cover my face with my hands. I can’t stop thinking about Dad’s predicament and every minute that passes, my heart bleeds a little more for my daughter. Two of the people I love most in the world.

Blake sits close to me and puts his arm around my shoulders. ‘Come on, Lucie. It’ll be all right.’

‘Will it?’ My hands fall away and I glare at him. ‘Will it really all be all right?’

‘Truthfully? I don’t know.’ He hangs his head and stares at his feet. ‘But I have to tell myself it will be all right in the end. I have to keep faith, or… I won’t be able to carry on.’