The Therapist(14)

‘And will that now become a weekly thing?’ I ask.

‘I hope so,’ Ginny says fervently. ‘You can’t believe how good it was to have some time alone in the house.’

‘I’ve got a bit too much of that at the moment.’

‘You’ll be fine once you’ve settled in.’

‘I hope so.’

I don’t mean to sound despondent but Ginny picks up on it straightaway. ‘Is everything alright?’

‘It’s just that I really want to start making friends here but Leo thinks we should take our time. He wasn’t too pleased when I went ahead and invited people over for drinks. And then I let a gate-crasher in so he’s even less happy with me now.’

‘Ooh, tell me more. I’m intrigued!’

I tell her about the man who nobody remembers speaking to, and the more I talk about him, the more uneasy I feel.

‘Sorry, Ginny, but I really need to phone Leo,’ I say. ‘At least I’ll be able to tell him how our gate-crasher got in.’

‘No problem. Give him my love.’

I call Leo and tell him what Lorna told me.

‘Well, that’s one part of the mystery solved,’ he says. ‘Although we still don’t know why he turned up.’ He gives a sigh of irritation. ‘I really can’t believe you showed people around the house.’

‘Sorry,’ I say guiltily. ‘But all your client files are locked away in the filing cabinet, aren’t they?’ I add, wondering if that’s why he won’t let it go.

‘That’s not the point.’

‘Do you think it might have been something to do with your work, then?’

‘I’m a consultant, not a spy.’ His voice has an edge to it. ‘Look, I don’t want to worry you, but have you got your keys?’

‘They’re in my bag. Why?’

‘It’s just that – well, you know I heard someone in the house last night? I was wondering if it might be linked to our uninvited guest.’

I feel a prickle of alarm. ‘I thought we agreed that there was no-one there.’

‘I know. And if you have your keys, it’s fine. I’ve got mine and they’re the only two sets that were in the house during the party, so it’s not as if one of them has gone missing.’

‘And we have a mortice lock on the inside of the front door, so nobody can get in anyway,’ I point out. ‘Unless you to forgot to lock it before we went to bed?’

‘No, I don’t think I did. But make sure you lock it tonight, Alice. And carry on asking around, will you? We need to find out who that man was.’

‘Will do.’

But there isn’t anyone else to ask. The mystery man has slipped away as easily as he slipped in.





Eight


I gather my pillows and quilt together and carry them upstairs, slightly embarrassed at having slept in my study for the last two nights. But when it came to going to bed on Monday evening, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep in the bedroom alone. It wasn’t just that Leo had thought there was someone in the house the previous night, it was also the knowledge that we’d had an uninvited guest. Feeling safer downstairs, I pulled out the sofa bed and slept there.

I re-make our bed, because I can’t sleep downstairs for ever, and go to my wardrobe for a pair of jeans. As I take them from the shelf, I see my white sundress, the one I’d wanted to wear on Monday, wedged between two other dresses. I take it out, glad to have found it. If I add a cardigan, I’ll be able to wear it today. As I slip it over my head, the slight scent of washing powder tickles my nose; despite having worn it at the party, it still feels fresh and clean.

The post comes as I’m having breakfast, bringing a copy of the novel I’ve been commissioned to translate from Italian into English. I like to read books through twice before I start translating, making notes as I go, so I take it through to the study and curl up on the sofa, glad that I’m going to be able to get back into my usual routine of working from nine to seven, four days a week. Until now, I’ve given myself Fridays off so that I could have three-day weekends, but with Leo working from home on Fridays, I’m going to take Thursdays off instead.

It’s hard to concentrate at first, because my mind is still preoccupied by our gate-crasher, wondering if we’ll ever be able to find out who he was. And more importantly, why he turned up, because that’s what’s bothering me most.

Towards the end of the morning, when I’m quite a few chapters in, I hear voices in the road outside. Closing my book, I go through to the sitting room and from the window, see Eve standing in front of the small black wrought-iron gate that leads into the square, chatting to Tamsin and Maria who, judging by the numerous bags they’re carrying, look as if they’re on their way back from the local shops. I watch enviously as they laugh together at something Eve has said. A wave of loneliness hits; I want so much to be part of their group that before I can stop myself, I’m heading out to join them.

I walk down the drive and wait to let a supermarket van pass. It stops in front of Lorna and Edward’s and I cross the road behind it, giving a wave to Edward as he comes out of his house. The three women are no longer laughing but are huddled together, the way people do when they’re talking about something serious, something secret. I curse my bad timing. I don’t want to interrupt them – but it’s too late. Maria has seen me.