The Couple at No. 9(55)

‘No.’

‘Me neither. And your parents?’

Daphne sipped her drink. The fire crackled in the hearth. All I knew about her was that she’d grown up in south London, not that far from where I’d lived with my parents, but moved away when she was eleven. Since then, she said, she’d lived ‘all over’.

She shook her head. ‘Long, boring story. I’m the black sheep. You know how it is?’

I didn’t, but I nodded anyway.

She turned away from me, not saying anything else, just staring into the fire, her eyes huge and sad.

After a few minutes she fixed her eyes on me again, something changing in her expression. ‘I’ve always kept myself to myself. Other places I’ve stayed, other people I’ve lodged with, I’ve kept at arm’s length. But you …’ her eyes softened ‘… you’re the only person I’ve let myself get close to, Rose. For a long, long time. I hope you don’t make me regret it.’

I felt myself blush. ‘Of course I won’t. But can I ask? Why me?’

‘I don’t know. I feel like we’re the same.’

She was right. I felt that too: both self-sufficient, determined to be strong, but also damaged. She was the first person I had let myself grow close to since I’d run away that terrible night three years ago. And I got the feeling it was the same for Daphne.

As an only child I’d never known what it was like to have a sibling, but the closeness I felt with Daphne in that moment was how I’d always imagined it would be. I glanced at her and her eyes locked with mine. My stomach fluttered. I felt more for her than sisterly affection, I knew that really. The more I got to know her, the deeper my feelings became. I felt my cheeks grow hot at the thought that she might be able to tell.

She smiled at me. ‘And also … with Lolly. With the three of us, it’s like the family I wish I’d had.’

‘Me too,’ I said, my voice full of emotion.

We smiled at each other shyly and she reached over and took my hand in hers, squeezing my fingers gently. In that moment I knew I’d do anything for her: I wanted to look out for her and protect her. I’d never felt that way about another person apart from you, and maybe Audrey. Looking back now, I realized I was falling in love.

Then you came bounding into the room with a Barbie half dressed. You thrust it into Daphne’s lap. ‘I can’t do,’ you wailed. And Daphne laughed and pulled you onto her legs while she dressed the doll for you.

It was the most perfect day. The three of us huddled on the sofa, happy and safe, the fire roaring and the snow falling softly outside.

I wish we could have stayed that way, I really do.





Part Three




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29


Theo





On Thursday morning Theo unexpectedly finds himself alone in his dad’s study and an opportunity presents itself to him that is too good to pass up.

The chance to snoop.

It’s not the kind of behaviour Theo has ever indulged in before. He’s not the type. He’s never looked through Jen’s phone, or tried to hack into her emails, like some of his mates have done with their other halves. Mutual trust is so important to him. And he knows Jen feels the same.

My dad is a potential pervert who is hiding something, he tells himself in a bid to ease his conscience.

Theo hadn’t planned to go to his dad’s today, especially after his visit to Larry yesterday, but guilt had gnawed at him about their argument and even though he’d lain awake most of last night, fury and disappointment grappling for prime emotion, guilt still found a way of slipping in, like a piece of shell falling into a bowl when cracking an egg.

Jen had given him a knowing smile when he said he was popping over to his dad’s before work. ‘He’s still your dad,’ she said softly, before kissing him goodbye. But when he arrived there was no answer, just Mavis, the housekeeper, on her way out. ‘He’s at the golf club,’ she’d said. ‘He won’t be back until later.’

Theo had held up his backpack. ‘I’ve got food for him,’ he lied. ‘Don’t worry, you go and I’ll let myself out.’

‘You’re a good son,’ she said, patting his cheek fondly, then scuttling off down the driveway to catch her bus.

Now, standing in his father’s study, he feels like the worst son in the world. Even as a kid he knew never to come in here without his dad’s permission. It was off limits and a fate worse than death if he ever dared defy his father’s orders. Not that he ever did. He hadn’t been interested as a boy: it was full of his father’s boring work stuff and ugly golfing trophies. But now … now his heart beats with anticipation. His dad refuses to tell him anything, yet he knows this room must be a vault for his many secrets.

Theo glances around the study, at the wood panelling on the walls, the built-in shelves and display cabinet, the desk with its dark green padded insert. Where to start? What to look for? It smells in here, a musky expensive scent mixed with polished wood. It’s ludicrous, really, but Theo’s always felt his dad just smells important.

He goes to the built-in bookshelves on the far wall, behind the desk. Underneath the shelves on either side there is a set of cupboard doors. The same cupboards his dad had been rummaging through last week when he was in one of his tempers. Theo bends down and pulls open one of the doors. Neatly stacked is a pile of Lever Arch folders. He pulls one out and skims through the pages; it looks like old tax accounts. He shoves them back, making sure to keep them in the right order. He’s certain that’s the kind of thing his dad would notice. He tries the other cupboard but it’s locked. Damn it. He didn’t even think about that. Why would his dad lock it unless it was something he didn’t want anybody seeing? Mavis isn’t even allowed in here to clean. He tries the desk drawers instead. Surprisingly they aren’t locked but they contain nothing exciting, just some receipts held together with a bulldog clip, a pack of Bic pens, a fancy fountain pen, some certificates from the golf club and a bottle of pills. He picks them up, examining the label. Blood-pressure medication. He didn’t even know his dad had high blood pressure. He replaces the bottle. There must be something, he thinks, his eye going again to the locked cupboard. He has to get in there, whatever the consequences. He opens the desk drawer again and finds two large paperclips, which he bends into a V, shoving the end of one into the lock. He’d tried this once, with a bunch of mates, years ago at school to get into the display cabinet that held all the sporting medals: they’d wanted to play a prank on one of the rugby team. He remembers having to push down on the end of one, while jiggling the other. ‘Come on, you piece of shit, open,’ he says through clenched teeth. Finally he hears a pop and feels a release and the cupboard springs open. He sits back on his heels, shocked that he’s actually managed to do it.