Ruth touched Betty on the shoulder. “How’s your knee holding up?”
Ed vaguely remembered Elise mentioning something about a knee operation a year or so ago.
“Yes, not bad, thank you.” Betty patted her leg. “Fingers crossed it stays that way.”
A couple of loud meows interrupted them, and Betty laughed as a ginger cat sauntered out, followed by a black-and-white one. They sat and looked up at her expectantly, not the slightest bit interested in her visitors. “I guess it’s dinner time.” She patted Ed’s hand again. “Make sure you come in for a cup of tea when you move in properly.” She turned and shooed the cats inside, leaving the three of them on the doorstep.
“Right,” Sarah said. “Let’s get this lot to the tip before it shuts.” She was off back down the path at a quick march, Ruth hot on her heels.
Ed hurried to catch up to them. “Must get lonely living on your own. It’s nice she has those cats for company, though. I might get one when I’m settled.”
Ruth frowned. Neither of his sisters wanted him to go.
“Just the one?” Sarah glanced back at him as she reached the car.
“I don’t know... maybe two. I guess if Betty can handle two at her age, I should be okay.”
Ruth laughed from behind him and Sarah grinned. “You’ve been inside Betty’s bungalow, right?”
“Um... yeah?” He must have at some point.
“Recently?”
“Probably not. Why?” They reached the car and he looked from Ruth to Sarah and back again. “Why are you both smiling like that.”
“No reason.” Sarah opened the car door and got in.
“Ruth?” he tried as she reached for the passenger door.
“I’m glad you like cats.” She laughed and got in the car.
Ed followed suit. He glanced back at the bungalow as they drove away, trying to make out anything untoward through the windows. Was Betty a mad old cat lady? Whatever. He did like cats, so it was fine.
How many could one old lady look after, anyway?
THE NEXT two weeks flew by.
As his house sale went through, Ed transferred a lot of his stuff into storage. No point cluttering up his aunt’s house with furniture if they were trying to sell it. By the time he moved in, the bathroom was finished—and looking lovely—but the kitchen still had a few bits to complete.
But he had a fridge.
And an oven.
Only one builder remained to finish the work, but as it was one of his best mates, Ed was glad for the company. He’d known Aiden for years, since primary school.
Ed finished the teas he was making and slid one of them across the counter.
“Thanks.” Aiden leant back against the new oak-effect worktop and glanced out of the window. “Oh dear. Looks like he’s lost his keys.” He nodded in the direction of next door. On Betty’s side.
Ed frowned as the words registered. “Hiskeys?” He turned and looked for himself. Sure enough, there was a young guy, maybe mid-twenties, studying the back of Betty’s house as though trying to find a way in.
Should I call the police?
Ed watched as the guy continued to stare up at the house. Maybe Betty had a grandson? But if that was the case, why didn’t he just knock?
When he walked to the side farthest away from Ed’s and smiled, Ed’s hackles rose. If Betty’s house was laid out like his, then the bathroom was on that side. With a window. Ed’s was too small for him to fit through, but this guy might be skinny enough to squeeze in.
He set his mug down. “Back in a sec.”
