CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The fridge was open and cartons of curry had been pulled out and were strewn over the floor. One of the cartons was stopping the fridge door from closing. It had landed upright, the lid still in place. The sticky label on it said ‘Chicken Korma’.
But the rest lay on the floor in a sticky mess, clearly thrown down with some force because many of the cartons were now leaking their contents.
The lamp was lying on its side on the countertop and my heart gave a lurch of dismay as I saw my beautiful Clarice Cliff vase lying cracked into three pieces on the floor.
Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and stared in fear and disbelief at the chaos, wondering just how angry a person would have to be with me to do something like this.
The sauce from my rogan josh curry splattered on the floor was the colour of dried blood.
The sound of a door banging pulled me from my trance and – rushing through to the little utility room – I realised with a shock that the back door was open and banging in the wind.
Looking out, I saw a dark figure running across the garden.
A second later, they scaled the fence and disappeared into the night.
‘Mummy?’
My heart lurched as I turned to find Amelie standing sleepily behind me, clutching her bear.
‘Oh, my love.’ I shut the back door and locked it. Then I gathered her up and carried her through the hall and into the living room, away from the upsetting mess in the kitchen.
The intruder must have entered the house while I was outside in the rain, making sure the van was okay. I’d left the front door open after I’d gone up to check on Amelie and they must have slipped inside then.
So Amelie would have been alone in the house when they were wrecking the kitchen!
The thought of that chilled my blood.
‘Are you okay?’ I murmured into her hair, and she nodded sleepily.
‘Can I please have a drink?’
‘Of course you can.’ I sat her down on the sofa and tucked a throw around her. ‘Back in a minute.’
She seemed okay. Untouched by what had been happening. But as I dashed through to the kitchen for a glass of water, I felt so angry at myself. I should never have left the house... should never have left the front door open like that.
It would have been my fault if anything had happened to Amelie.
I thought about phoning the police to report what had happened but something was holding me back. I had a feeling I knew exactly who my intruder was and getting the police involved would only stir up unwanted memories. I really couldn’t face that...
Amelie had fallen asleep on the sofa, so I carried her upstairs – she was quite a weight now! – and tucked her back into bed. She opened her eyes and murmured, ‘Mummy,’ but she was obviously still half-asleep because she promptly turned over and sank into dreamland again.
I stood there for a moment, gazing down at her flushed cheeks and soft blonde curls, so relieved that my baby girl seemed untouched by all the bad stuff that had happened that night.
At last, certain that she wouldn’t wake again, I left her room with the door slightly ajar and walked slowly down the stairs.
Standing in the hallway, I stared into the kitchen.
I couldn’t face the mess. Not right now.
I needed time to think about what I was going to do about market day.
With barely any food to put on my stall, what on earth would be the point?
There were a few cartons left in the fridge but it wouldn’t even be worth paying for the petrol to drive along there and back, if that’s all I had to offer my customers.
Sighing, I crossed the threshold, picked my way over to the kettle and flicked it on. And as it boiled, I was resigning myself to writing off that week’s market day completely. I’d already paid for the pitch, so it was really annoying, but what else could I do?
Shivering, I clutched my arms tightly around me.
Someone really had it in for me and I guess they’d wanted to make sure my business suffered. Well, they’d achieved their objective and no mistake!
But was I really just going to let myself be a victim?
The initial shock had been replaced by anger at what the intruder had done. Fury was building inside me and giving me strength.
Whoever they were, they weren’t going to win.
I’d be at that market stall as usual the following day – even if I had to spend the entire night cooking more curry to replace what had been destroyed!
Taking my tea through to the living room, I paused at the foot of the stairs on the way. All was calm upstairs.
I needed a plan. Sinking down on the sofa, I warmed my hands on the mug. I was chilled to the bone and shivering now, but as I sipped the hot tea, a feeling of warmth started spreading through me.
I was down.
But I was most definitely not out!
I had a freezer full of quality chicken, beef and lamb, a cool drawer packed with vegetables, and a cupboard full of lentils, tins of tomatoes and all the spices I could ever need.
A feeling of obstinate resolve got me off the sofa and heading back into the kitchen, where I took out the meat that needed defrosting and laid it on the countertop, ready for a crack of dawn start. Then I looked at the floor. It was tempting to leave it and go upstairs to grab some sleep.
But the thought of coming down in a few hours’ time and being faced with this mess wasn’t an appealing one.
I’d do it now, then I’d be able to roll my sleeves up and get cooking the instant I came down!
With a feeling of bloody-minded determination, I began picking up the cartons from the floor...