Chapter 5 Imposition
IMPOSITION
PRESENT DAY
Returning from a soggy walk, Catherine shook the rainwater from her umbrella and propped it by the door in the shared hallway.
She stilled as she turned and noticed the shelf above the radiator. She traced her fingers over the now-empty spot, where, for the past year, she’d stacked all the post addressed to the upstairs flat.
So, there actually was a new neighbour, and she hadn’t just summoned the Spice Girls in a dream. Standing motionless, she tilted her head to listen out for any signs of life from above, but heard only the familiar groans of the old building she’d lived in for so many years she’d lost count.
Catherine stepped towards her apartment; as she turned her key in the lock, she spotted a pink note slipped under her door. She bent to pick it up, her eyes quickly scanning the words that seemed to have been scrawled in a hurry.
Hi!
Just moved in above you — Knocked, but you weren’t home. Sorry to ask, but I have to leave town for work for a couple of days. Would you mind popping in to feed my cat?
Food’s in the fridge. Key’s under the doormat.
Sorry again, J x
P.S. Excuse the mess.
P.P.S. His name is Juniper.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Catherine turned over the slip of paper, which looked as if it’d been torn from a fancy notebook.
She shook her head as she re-read the note.
“Absolutely bloody not.” She balled the note in her hand, ranting under her breath as she paced inside, banging the door shut behind her.
“So, hold on, let me get this straight — you’ve somehow agreed to look after your noisy new neighbour’s cat, and you haven’t even met them yet?” Penny’s contagious cackle trickled down the phone line.
“No, I’m not looking after it!” Catherine reached the front of the queue and passed over a pre-made cheese baguette to the disinterested cashier.
“Two secs, Pen,” she said, lifting her phone from her ear to tap it to the card reader.
“I just got the note under my door. I can’t believe the audacity.
First, I get woken up at 4 a.m. with the Spice Girls of all things, and now this? ”
“I wouldn’t mind being woken up at 4 a.m. by Geri Halliwell.”
“Admittedly Geri ticks a few boxes, but—”
A dirty laugh bubbled from Penny. “She can tick my box any time she likes.”
“Really, Pen?” Catherine smirked and rolled her eyes. “Back to the topic at hand, I was going to say, who moves in somewhere and expects their neighbour, whom they haven’t even met yet, to feed their bloody cat?”
“You don’t even like cats!” Penny said through what sounded like a mouthful of salad leaves.
“Exactly.” Catherine wove her way through the lunchtime bustle of the Parade. “So what do I do?”
“Well, you can’t leave the poor cat to starve, can you?”
She sighed. “I don’t see how it should be my problem.”
“Look, we both know you’re going to feed that hungry pussy—”
“Oh my goodness, Pen. It isn’t hard to tell when Loz is away.”
Penny released another filthy laugh; the infectious sound was what had drawn Catherine to her when they’d met.
“Well, I’m actually grateful to your new neighbour!”
“Why?”
“Because their little imposition has taken your mind off all that messy business with the Daltons for five minutes.” Penny crunched into something that sounded like cucumber.
“Yes, I suppose it has. Anyway, now I’ve got a busy afternoon of listening to other people’s problems, so it’s been good to offload mine to free up a little headspace.”
“Anytime, babe.” Penny pecked a couple of kisses into the phone. “Don’t forget to feed the—” Catherine ended the call, smiling as she buzzed herself back into the office, only to be confronted with the sight of Jeremy sitting in the waiting room with his head in his hands.
All the buoyancy she’d gained from chatting to Penny deflated. Jeremy sprang to his feet; his expensive suit hung creased on his tall frame.
“Catherine, you’re back! Stephanie didn’t know how long you’d be.”
Catherine gave him a flat smile and held up her baguette like a trophy. “I told her I was just nipping out to grab a bite. My next appointment is at 1 p.m.”
“Mind if I bend your ear while you eat?”
A loud clatter came from the kitchenette, followed by a string of expletives from Stephanie. Catherine drew a breath and widened her eyes.
“I asked her for a coffee, but she’s been in there for at least ten minutes; juggling the cups, by the sounds of it.” Jeremy’s attempt at levity fell flat. His normally bright eyes looked dull and tired, and his mouth sagged, drawing attention to his bristly jowls.
Catherine could feel pity creeping in and nuzzling away her annoyance. Damn it.
“Okay, we have twenty minutes.”
She strutted towards the kitchenette and poked her head around the doorway. The young receptionist stood slouched against the worktop, her jaw slack as she mindlessly masticated a glob of gum. Catherine cleared her throat, and Stephanie looked up from her phone.
“If it’s not too much trouble, we’ll take that coffee in my office.”
Catherine placed her baguette down, aligning it with her pen and mechanical pencil, both set at a right angle to her notepad. With a long sigh, Jeremy sank into one of the leather chairs facing her desk.
“Please don’t let me stop you from eating your lunch,” he said.
“It’s fine, I’m not really hungry.” Catherine’s stomach had been growling for food before, but best not to be stuffing her face while he outpoured. “So, did you manage to track down Francesca last night?”
Jeremy tugged at his shirt collar; his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes, a little after two. She’s staying at a hotel in the Cotswolds. She asked if I could send a taxi with some of her things… and her Diazepam.”
Catherine scoffed.
Jeremy met her stare. “Look, I know how it sounds, but she’s really not well, Catherine.” Jeremy hung his head again and released an anguished groan. “She’s miserable in a way that I… I just don’t know how to fix this time.”
Catherine couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for Francesca, but Jeremy — even if things between them had soured somewhat over the years — was her oldest friend. He was practically family.
The words left her mouth before she could clamp her lips to stop them. “Do you want me to try speaking with her?”
Jeremy lifted his head, a glimmer of hope replacing the desperation in his eyes. “Would you?”
Christ. Could this day get any worse?