‘Oh, does he? Because I’ve been here a while and I’ve never heard you talk to him on the phone.’
‘That’s because of the time difference,’ I say. ‘You’re usually in bed when he calls.’
‘Oh, I see. That makes sense.’
And then, because I really do not want to talk about this, I say, ‘What about you? Do you ever think about your ex-husband?’ Teri told me that she was married and divorced. That’s why she moved here. To start again.
She makes a face, then raises her hand, pointing at the faint outline of white skin where her wedding band used to be.
‘You want to know when I think about him? When I wash my hands.’ She laughs, then grows serious again. ‘I try not to think about him if I can help it. Put it that way.’
‘I understand. Breakups are hard.’
‘Don’t get me wrong. I don’t miss him. Quite the opposite. He was an awful person. I didn’t know who he really was when I married him.’ She looks away, and for a moment I think she’s going to cry. ‘I used to fantasise about him being dead.’ She picks at a loose thread on a tea towel. ‘Isn’t that awful?’
I swallow. ‘I’m sure that’s quite common.’
She looks up. ‘Is it? Not in your case, surely. Your husband sounds really nice.’
I don’t trust myself to speak. Then, finally, I say, ‘Yes. I guess.’
She looks at me with a sweet, sad smile, and my heart goes out to her. She looks so vulnerable in that moment, and it occurs to me that she probably needs a friend. And maybe her wanting to stay isn’t so much to do with her foot; it’s because of how lonely she is. She’s been so nice and generous, cooking for us and being so attentive to Holly.
I resolve to be nicer.
A storm rages outside all evening. After dinner – Beef Wellington, amazing – we play Scrabble again, rain battering against the windows. Holly plays a piano piece for Teri while I wash up, and Teri listens with her eyes closed.
Later, I’ve only just gone to bed when a blast of lightning fires up the sky.
And then the power goes out.
I sit up with a start.
Holly’s door crashes open, and a second later she appears at my door, pushing it open so hard it bounces against the wall.
‘Kate!’ she cries, probably to wake me up.
‘I know,’ I say, trying to infuse a sense of calm and control into my voice.
Another burst of lightning outlines her in the doorway, her hand flat against the door.
‘Kate, the power—’ she hisses.
‘I know.’ I push the covers aside and get out of bed.
Downstairs, I hear a short thump sound as Teri lets out a cry. Her voice rises up the stairs. ‘Holly? Kate? Are you all right?’
‘We’re fine!’ I shout back. ‘Are you?’
‘I just stubbed my toe, but otherwise okay. I thought I heard Holly cry.’
But Holly can’t even speak. She stares at me, eyes round.
‘She’s fine, Teri. She’s scared of the dark, that’s all.’
‘You can come to bed with me if you like, Holly,’ she says.
I smile despite myself. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,’ I call out.
