I feel life drain from me as I recall the imaginary package I told Eric about last night.
“Oh! Right! Yes.The package,okay,” I blurt, mortified, because of course there isn’t one.
“Exactly,” she says, with a relieved smile. “Eric texted me this morning. He said you wereveryeager to get it off your hands.”
I feel my cheeks fill with blood. “Yes, of course. I’ll just…go and get it. I think I put it on the bookshelf in the…I’ll be right back.”
In the living room, I mouth a few choice swear words to myself before making “I’m looking for something” noises, my brain working overtime for an excuse. There’s no package, obviously.
After opening and shutting a cupboard or two, I bite the bullet and head back to the kitchen.
Marina is standing by the back door, fiddling with the lock, when I enter. She looks up suddenly when she sees me, hands raised as if I’ve caught her.
“Sorry—your cat was trying to get out.”
I spin around and see Blue, looking sheepish under the kitchen table, his old vandalized red collar that I rescued from the upstairs bin bag back around his neck with a large black AirTag carabiner dangling from it, the wordsHelp Mejust about visible to the keen eye.
“Oh my God,” I blurt, pushing past her. “Don’t worry—I’ll get him. He hasn’t had breakfast yet.” I grab him and plop him back on the stairs and watch him trot up and away.
“Oh my goodness. He’s beautiful. He looks so familiar,” Marina coos. “I must have seen him around.”
Sweat prickles my hands. “Yeah, I put a photo of him on the group earlier this week. You probably saw him there.” I hope this puts an end to it.
“I’d love to have a cat but I’m just not home enough,” she confides.
“Couldn’t Chris, or Eric, look after it? While you are out?” I try, the opportunity too good to miss.
Her forehead creases at the mention of their names.
“Eric doesn’t live with us. It’s just me and Chris. And Chris is away a lot.”
She absentmindedly rubs her face, smearing her mascara in the corner of her left eye.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Marina’s attention snaps back to me. “Excuse me?”
“I was just asking if you’re okay.”
Marina instantly reddens at the question. She clears her throat and looks at her watch.
“Oh my gosh. Sorry. Look at the time! I was only supposed to pop over here for a second. I left something…in the warming oven,” she adds. “Could I just get the package?” she asks, her hand outstretched expectantly.
But there is no package.
“I’m so sorry, the truth is…I thought the package I received was for you, but it was for a Mary Lamb, at Twenty-one. I can’t believe I mixed the names up. I’m so embarrassed after making such a fuss.”
Marina’s veneer of charm drops slightly; she stares at me for a second. “I see. Right. Yes, of course, that happens. Iwassurprised to hear about it, because I haven’t ordered anything in weeks.”
—
From behind the curtains of the front window, Chris opens the door before she reaches it, his expression becoming serious as she speaks, his gaze flicking across the road to my house. I pull back from the window as the pair talk intensely.
I wonder if she did recognize Blue.
It’s then I realize that if Chris is home to answer the door he must have been home last night when Eric was there. Perhaps they are just all friends? But do friends argue the way Marina and Eric argue? Something is going on in that house, I know it.
When I look back, I catch sight of Chris throwing one last concerned look at my house, before disappearing inside his.
