Just Like the Other Girls(10)

‘Shall I do it?’ I ask.

‘No. You’re all right. Sit yourself down and talk to me. I know you’ve only been here a few hours but how’s your first day going?’ She has large red cheeks that remind me of shiny apples. There’s something about her that makes me feel completely at ease straight away. She’s homely. Warm. The opposite of Kathryn and Elspeth. She reminds me of Gran, my mum’s mother.

‘It’s great,’ I say, conscious that my voice is pitched too high, like it always is when I’m not being entirely truthful.

She fixes her hazel eyes on me. ‘It’ll take a bit of getting used to, I expect,’ she says kindly. ‘Having to work and live in the same place. It can be a bit … isolating.’

I bite my lip, wondering if I can be honest. ‘It’s a bit weird,’ I admit, as I slide onto one of the wooden stools. They’re high and my feet dangle like a little kid’s. Mum and I used to laugh that we felt like children, swinging our feet on such chairs. That’s the problem with being barely five foot. ‘It’s very quiet here after the care home.’ I can’t admit that I feel a little homesick. ‘And usually I’d have Saturdays off,’ I add instead. Then I blush, wondering if I’ve said too much. What if it gets back to Elspeth that I’ve been moaning already? I’m known for putting my foot in my mouth. Courtney’s always teasing me about it.

She makes a funny clicking sound with her throat. ‘Well, I hope you last longer than Jemima. She was only here three months. Shame, really, as she was a nice girl.’

‘When did she leave?’

The kettle whistles. She gets up and moves it on to another part of the hob. She bustles about with mugs and teabags, talking with her back to me. ‘Just before Christmas. It was all a bit odd. She left with no warning. Didn’t give notice or anything. I think she was a bit of a free spirit. There were rumours that she went travelling. Some say she did a runner. That she was in some sort of trouble. Not that I’m the type to gossip, mind you.’

I smile to myself. Aggie reminds me of a younger version of one of the residents at the care home, Esme. She loved a gossip.

I hope I last longer than three months. Courtney is about to move her boyfriend into our flat, so I can’t go back there if things don’t work out here. No, I tell myself. They will work out here. They have to.

‘Was there a girl before her?’

She turns to me and hands me a tray laid out with bone-china mugs and a teapot. ‘Here we go.’ I take it from her with thanks, although I’d rather stay in the kitchen talking and not have to go back up to Elspeth. ‘Ah, the lovely Matilde.’ Her face falls. ‘She was here for a few years. It was sad what happened to her.’

I feel a prickle of unease. ‘What did happen to her?’

She hesitates, as if wondering whether she should be telling me this. She lowers her voice, her eyes flicking to the door. ‘She was killed. In a hit-and-run last August. Oh, it was just dreadful. It was her night off and she was walking home in the dark, a little drunk I imagine – Matilde did like to party. She’d been to a bar in Park Street. Happened on the road out the front. It was raining heavily that night, I remember. She must have just stepped out without seeing the car.’

I’m too ashamed to admit to Aggie that I never read the news. And that last August I was rushed off my feet looking after my mum in between my job at the care home. ‘Oh, Aggie, that’s awful. I am sorry.’

Her eyes soften. ‘I was fond of Matilde. A lovely, bonny girl. Good fun. A breath of fresh air around the place.’

‘Did they ever catch the driver?’

She shakes her head, her chins wobbling. ‘Unfortunately not.’

I’m just about to ask more when I hear Elspeth at the door. ‘What on earth is keeping you so long? I could have made my own tea in the time it’s taken you.’ She turns on her heel and, carefully so I don’t drop the tray, I follow her up the stairs.

At this rate I won’t even last the morning. I’ll be the one Aggie will be gossiping about to my replacement. The girl who didn’t make it past her first day.





I’ve been watching you. I’m like a cat, stealthy and light on my feet. It’s a fun game and you’re easy to spot with your long hair that shimmers down your back. It stands out from the bland January skies. Sometimes you wear a big fluffy Russian hat and then you’re even easier to spot. You have your own style. You don’t run with the crowd. You like to think you’re different.

I watch you come and go from the big house like you own it, and I bet you wish you did. I bet you like to imagine that you’re the mistress of that house, that you’re rich, don’t you? Sometimes you have that old bag on your arm and sometimes you’re alone. Well, you’re never actually alone. Because I’m always with you. You just don’t know it. And when you least expect it, I’ll pounce.





4





Una

Thankfully, I last the morning. I even make it to Wednesday – my day off.

I know it’s only a few days, but I can’t lie. There are times when I’m bored out of my skull in this job. I was so busy at the care home – there was always some duty to perform and because there were so many residents I had variety to my routine. Then, when my shift ended, I’d rush home to visit Mum. But here, with Elspeth, a large amount of my time is spent sitting next to her on the sofa while she reads – although I never actually see her turn a page – and nods off. Yesterday I made the mistake of getting up and exploring the house while she was napping, hoping to bump into Aggie or Lewis – anyone I could have a chat with – but when Elspeth woke up and found I wasn’t there she began calling for me, panic in her voice, as if I’d left her to die or something. I had to pretend I’d just gone to the loo.