‘Hi, how was your flight?’ I ask.
‘All fine. Sorry, once again. I should only be a couple of days.’
Since I am fighting with my intuition that something isn’t quite right, I decide not to tell Elias about the next-door neighbour and what she said, as I don’t want to put words in his mouth.
‘It’s okay. Don’t worry. Like you say, you’ll be back soon. I just wanted to ask something, though.’
‘Yeah, what’s up?’
‘Well, I was curious. I was wondering whose house this is. I mean, I’m just here alone, and if anyone turned up, I wouldn’t know what to say. Especially after what happened with Gianni’s apartment and all that. Or, if there’s a problem with, say, the electrics, who would I contact? So, yeah, I just wondered whose place it was.’
‘The villa?’
‘Yes, the villa.’
‘It’s just a rental. I don’t know the owner. Someone French, I guess.’
‘Well, how did you get the keys?’
‘The keys?’
‘Yes! The keys. We never met anyone to give them to us.’
Elias is quiet for a moment, and then, as if it has taken him time to think of an answer, he finally replies.
‘Oh, they posted the keys to me.’
‘They?’
‘Yeah, the agent.’
‘Okay, and who is the agent?’
‘Um, I don’t remember the exact name now, Lucy. I’ll get back to you. I’m going to have to go. Danny’s picking me up from the airport.’
‘Yes, of course. Could you message me the name of the agent later, so I know who to call if there is an emergency.’
‘There shouldn’t be any emergencies.’
‘No, I know, but just in case. Since I’m here all alone.’
‘Sure. I’ll speak to you a bit later. Okay.’
Before I can say goodbye, Elias has put the phone down, and I stand looking around the villa in disbelief that this has happened to me. I decide if Elias won’t tell me then I will hunt for clues. I look at the kitchen appliances again. I remember that old TV show,Through the Keyhole, and in the voice of Loyd Grossman, the presenter, I start talking to myself as I walk around, trying to turn this potential nightmare into a game.
‘This house belongs to a person who likes their gadgets.’
I look at the bright blue velvet chaise longue again. Someone likes blue.
‘This house belongs to a person who likes comfort as well as luxury.’
Then I go outside by the pool. Apart from a lion fountain that spouts water into the pool, it doesn’t give much away.
I go back inside and rummage through the kitchen drawers. Surely there must be some kind of post, a letter for someone in one of them. All I find is a canteen of designer cutlery and an electric tin opener. However, in another drawer, I find a few scrunched-up flyers for local bars and supermarkets. Why didn’t the cleaners throw them out? I’m guessing whoever owns this house can be a bit untidy at times. I add that to my mental list of qualities for the owner.
Moving to the living room, I look at the white sofa, white rugs and white vases.
‘This is a person who doesn’t have young children.’
