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Penny decided to ignore her sister’s comment. Being so jetlagged, she’d probably not grasped what Allie was saying. There was time enough to sort out who her sister’s visitor was later. “The flight was great until we hit some awful turbulence. I honestly thought we were going down at one point! Listen, Allie, has David contacted you? He was supposed to meet me and he hasn’t shown.”
“Who’s David?” her sister asked.
“Look, I am tired and worried about him. Don’t play funny games with me, all right?” she said irritably.
“Penny, have you been drinking?”
“Allie... what the fuck!”
“You sound weird, and you aren’t making much sense. Call me when you get home, okay? You can come around here for supper tonight if you’d like to.”
“I’ll call you later then, but if David gets in touch with you, please tell him to phone me!” She ended the call. Sometimes her sister irritated the hell out of her.
Resting against the seat, she pictured her homecoming. It had been too long since she’d seen her husband.Daddy. Warmth spread through her at the prospect of seeing him again. God, how she loved that man. Her eyelids dropped. Her last coherent thought was being cuddled in Daddy’s arms.
* * *
“We’re here, luv.”
The taxi driver woke her. Penny stretched and yawned. It would be good to slide into bed and sip a home-brewed cup of Earl Grey tea. She stepped out onto the gravel front and looked at her house. The old Victorian yellow-bricked house was her dream home. She had been so excited when it had come up for sale two and a half years ago. Since they had bought it, David and she had transformed it inside and out. She gazed at the front with a frown; was there something not quite right? The sash windows were in a bad state of repair; it didn’t make sense. Her eye was drawn to the front door, which was dark green and obviously needed some attention.
As she stared, an older woman came out. “Can I help you?” she called in a reedy voice.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Penny asked, walking toward her.
“Mrs. Cuthbertson... and you are?”
“Mrs. Forrester. This is my house,” she told the woman shortly.
“I’m sorry, dear, but you must have the wrong address. I own The Firs.”
“There has been some kind of a mistake on your part because I can assure you that I live here with my husband, David, and our dog,” she explained coldly.
Retreating, the woman hastened inside and slammed the front door.
Penny went to the doorbell and held her finger there. She could hear the shrill ringing echo from inside the hallway.
Eventually the woman opened the door again. “Go away, you madwoman!” she shrieked.
Penny shoved past her into the house; she headed down the passage toward the large, sunny kitchen–breakfast room, except it wasn’t there. Standing stock still, she stared around at the small dark galley kitchen. Where was the bright new kitchen–breakfast room extension that she and David had added? They had turned the dingy Victorian galley into a glorious open space.This is not possible. It cannot be...Penny blinked. The room remained the same. Her heart began to hammer. Turning, she brushed past the older woman and backtracked to where she knew the living room to be.
Sun filtered into the gloomy room, catching the suspended dust motes that hung in the still air. Gone were her sleek grey walls and furnishings, replaced by lumpy old-fashioned furniture and an outdated television set. This was patently not her home.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“Are you unwell, my dear?” the older woman asked gently.
“I-I think I might be, could I trouble you for a glass of water?” She began to shake.
“Not at all... Can I call someone for you? I’m afraid the taxi has left and your luggage is on the driveway.”
Penny looked through the dusty window; sure enough, the taxi was gone.
“I-I’ll call my sister. She lives nearby,” she explained.
* * *
“When did you cut yourhair?” Penny asked as Allie hugged her.
