The Couple at No. 9(31)

I could see Daphne taking in the modest living room with the pink and blue flowered wallpaper I’d put up myself when we first moved in and the fringed floor lamp in the corner that clashed.

‘I hope it’s not too basic for you,’ I said to her. ‘At least we have an indoor bathroom. The last owners put it in.’

Daphne smiled enigmatically, casting her eyes around the room. ‘I’ve lived in worse,’ she said, and I tried not to feel offended. I’d made it as homely as I could for you.

‘It was cheap.’ I smiled and shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and not like I was secretly proud of owning my home. Something nobody else could ever take away. My security. ‘I didn’t want to spend all the money I had on a property.’ I’d ignored the estate agent’s warning about the ridges on a thatched roof having to be replaced every ten years. It seemed so far away. I might have moved by then.

She raised one of her thin pencilled eyebrows. ‘It must be hard being a single parent.’

I nodded. Better than the alternative, I thought, although I didn’t say that.

‘Did your husband leave you this cottage?’

I hesitated. She thought I was a widow. What to tell her without giving anything away? You have to understand, Lolly, that I had always been so honest. Before. Telling people everything – the cost of a new top, how much I earned, who I was going out with – whether or not they actually wanted to know. But I’d learnt the hard way to keep my mouth shut.

I nodded and sipped my drink.

‘How long ago did your husband die?’

‘When I was pregnant,’ I replied. I felt terrible for lying.

‘How awful,’ she said, playing with the stem of her glass. She glanced at my hand, noting the absence of a wedding ring. I didn’t want to admit there had never been a ring.

‘Have you … ever been married?’ I asked her instead.

She shuddered. ‘God, no. I’m never getting married.’

‘Really?’

‘I don’t understand why anyone would want to tie themselves down to a man.’

Was it because she’d also been treated badly? Or had I got her wrong? Maybe she was just a bit of a free spirit. Or a hippie. Maybe she believed in free love. She was attractive with large hooded eyes, an elfin face and long, dyed-blonde hair, the brown roots visible. I was sure she’d have no shortage of male interest. I’d always thought of myself as reasonably attractive, not stunning or a head-turner, or anything like that, but natural, unthreatening. I could see that Daphne was more striking. ‘Um …’ I cleared my throat. ‘I know this is a bit delicate, and we probably should have talked about this before you moved in. But … with Lolly and everything … I think it’s better there are no …’ How could I put this tactfully? ‘… overnight visitors.’

She stared at me for a few moments, then let out a loud laugh. ‘Oh, Rose! Look at you, you’ve gone red. I promise I’m not going to be entertaining men in the bedroom. Honestly, men are the furthest thing from my mind.’

I sipped my drink in relief.

‘Do you mind if I smoke?’

I shook my head. ‘I try not to smoke around Lolly if that’s okay.’

She looked a little surprised but shrugged. ‘That’s fine. I’ll go into the back garden.’ She placed her drink on the side table and stood up. I followed her into the kitchen and through the back door. She stood on the patio outside, shivering in her ribbed polo neck and thin coat, and I felt so guilty that I told her we could stand in the doorway. She handed me a roll-up. We stood in silence, puffing on our cigarettes as a fine layer of ice coated the paving slabs in front of us.

‘Thank you,’ she said eventually. ‘For agreeing to rent me a room. I think this will work out well.’

I didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or the nicotine, or a combination of both, but I suddenly felt confident that she was right. We both wanted the same thing, I could already tell. Peace and quiet. Anonymity.

Standing there with her on that first day of a new year, a new decade, I never dreamed, in a million years, that her baggage, her past, would put us in danger.





17


Lorna





The next morning Lorna offers to take Snowy for a walk to give Saffy some space. Even though it’s been only four days, Lorna can tell by her daughter’s slightly harangued expression that she is getting under her feet. The more Lorna tries to be helpful around the house, the more Saffy looks like she’s sucking a sour boiled sweet. She’d thought, hoped, that this gruesome discovery would bring them closer together. She knows it’s selfish but now Saffy is pregnant she fears the gap will widen even further between them.

She realizes she made mistakes when Saffy was growing up. Lorna had been happy for her mother to take over. She’d shipped Saffy off every summer so that she could have a break, act like the teenager and then the young woman she’d been at the time, going to clubs and pubs, and, when she and Euan finally split up, hooking up with unsuitable men.

And now Saffy finally needs her. Really needs her. Even if she doesn’t yet know it.

She leaves Saffy in her depressing little study, hunched over her computer, and steps outside into the sunshine. She takes deep breaths, then coughs as the smell of the countryside hits the back of her throat. The skies are cloudless; she’s wearing a light top with her jeans and sandals. She probably should have brought flatter shoes. Heels aren’t the best for the slopes and inclines of Beggars Nook.