Chapter 15
I slow down as I pass the Morgans’ immaculate house, with its shiny yellow front door, brass knocker and the freshly pruned window-boxes.
It has taken me twenty minutes to walk back from the park and, as I retraced my steps down Gloucester Road, I saw that Marielle was still with Heidi at one of Collette’s wooden tables.
I glance up at the blank opaque windows as I pass, wondering what secrets lurk inside the house.
I continue on to my own front door and let myself in.
I head straight for the kitchen and open the patio doors to let in some air.
It’s nearly six but Rufus still isn’t home.
Phoenix darts past me and into the garden.
Straight away he scampers towards the hedge that separates my house from the Morgans’.
I don’t think much of it at first. Phoenix has never escaped from the garden despite the gap in the hedge that Rufus used to slide through so he could play with Joan’s grandson when he visited.
But today I’m shocked when I see Phoenix disappearing through it.
I get down on my hands and knees to poke my head through. And, yes, there’s Phoenix, as bold as brass, standing on the Morgans’ lawn, his head tilted. He has something in his mouth.
‘Phoenix,’ I hiss. ‘Naughty dog.’
He continues to stare at me before dropping whatever was in his mouth onto the Morgans’ immaculate lawn. It glints in the sunshine.
‘Phoenix.’ I crawl through the gap. ‘Come here. Come here, boy.’
But Phoenix picks up the object with his mouth again and trots over to the Morgans’ patio with it.
For goodness’ sake. What the hell has he found?
He settles down, puts whatever it is between his paws and starts chewing it.
I crawl through the gap. I have no other choice, I reason.
The Morgans won’t be impressed to find my dog in their garden.
I stand up, dusting the dry soil from my knees.
The lawn has a slight slope down to their huge glass extension and from here I can see right into their beautiful hand-painted kitchen.
An illicit thrill of being somewhere I shouldn’t runs through me but it’s quickly replaced by fear of getting caught.
I dash over to Phoenix, who thinks this is a game, leaps to his feet and away from me.
We have a cat-and-mouse chase across the lawn as I get more and more frustrated.
‘Drop it. Drop it, boy,’ I say, as he backs into a corner with the object in his mouth.
It looks small, like a toy mouse with a charm dangling from it.
But as I get closer I see that it’s a key with a keyring attached – some kind of knitted pink thing.
Phoenix drops it and I grab it before he can pick it up again.
It’s wet with his saliva and covered in bits of soil.
On closer inspection I can see it’s a small pink bear, its foot now slightly chewed, thanks to my dog.
Something about it tugs at the edges of my memory but I can’t place where I’ve seen it before.
What was it doing in the hedge? I slip it into the pocket of my dress.
The Morgans might have dropped it, or it could have been one of the developers, or even one of Joan’s daughters.
Who knows how long it’s been there? I grab Phoenix’s collar and encourage him back through the gap in the hedge.
I’m going to have to get that filled in somehow.
Now he’s discovered it I’m sure he’ll want to go through it again.
When I’m back in my garden, dusting soil from my knees, I spot Rufus by the sink in the kitchen.
A guy is sitting at the table drinking a glass of water.
I squint as I get closer. He looks early to mid-twenties and has foppish blond hair and a chiselled jaw.
He’s wearing a white T-shirt and jeans and has leather laces wrapped around one of his tanned wrists.
He wouldn’t look out of place in a 1990s boy band.
‘Hi, Mum,’ says Rufus, leaning back against the worktop. ‘This is Kit.’
Kit?
‘He’s here to teach me guitar,’ clarifies Rufus, when I look at him blankly. Of course, I remember Charlie saying he’d found him a teacher. I was expecting him to be older. There is something familiar about him.
‘Oh, hi, Kit. Lovely to meet you. I’m Lena. Have we met before?’
‘Hey, Lena.’ A lazy grin spreads across his face. ‘No, I don’t think so, although you might have seen me at one of your husband’s gigs.’ Estranged husband, I want to say, but I fight the urge to correct him.
‘You can use the living room, if you like,’ I say. ‘It’s much cooler in there.’
‘Great, thanks.’ Kit stands up and reaches for his electric guitar, which is propped against the wall in a cushioned case. He’s taller than Rufus and broader, instantly making my son look much younger, and I feel a surge of protectiveness towards him.
Rufus leads Kit into the living room, chatting away, and I swell with pride. The months at college have done him good. A few years ago he found it hard to look strangers in the eye, never mind talk to them, but he seems at ease with Kit. Before long I hear a guitar riff float through the house.
I head upstairs to my bedroom and take the bear from my pocket.
There is only one key attached to it and it’s a simple Yale.
I sit on the edge of my bed staring at it for a while.
It looks like a front-door key. I really should show it to the Morgans just in case they mislaid theirs when they were moving in.
As I stand up to go back downstairs I notice a movement outside. A man is pacing up and down on the other side of the street, his head lowered. I recognize his gait and when he looks up and glares towards the Morgans’ house I realize who he is.
Drew.
What is he doing? He’s crossing the street so that he’s standing by the Morgans’ classic Jaguar.
I continue to watch as he runs a hand slowly over the bonnet, his brows knitted, his expression dark.
He continues to stand there for a few more minutes and, just as I decide to go down and find out what’s going on, I see Henry opening his front gate.
Drew is now gesticulating towards the car.
He looks upset and his voice is raised, but I can’t make out what he’s saying over the sound of Rufus butchering the electric guitar in the room below.
I watch, mesmerized, as Henry reaches over and squeezes his shoulder.
It seems a friendly action, but Drew shrinks back, his expression one of alarm.
Then Henry leans over and says something in Drew’s ear.
Drew shakes his head and mutters a reply.
Henry turns away from him to walk back into the house.
Drew stares after him for a couple more seconds before he slopes off down the street with an air of dejection. What was all that about?