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‘Gavin calm down,’ I say. ‘Don’t let Kayla know you’re freaking out. Okay?’
Gavin doesn’t reply.
I raise my voice. ‘Listen to me. Keep it together. I’m leaving now.’
There’s still no reply.
‘Gavin. Please. Please keep it together. Don’t scare her. I’m begging you.’
‘Heather, hurry. Please,’ Gavin finally says.
THIRTY-THREE
CHARLOTTE
My new neighbour finishes on the phone almost as abruptly as he answered. ‘Sorry. I have to go,’ he says, sliding his phone into his pocket as he turns to face me.
‘No worries,’ I say. ‘It’s late. Thanks again for your help. And I’ll be sure to put some plastic down in the car before I sit in.’
‘Good. Good.’ He nods.
‘Is everything alright?’ I ask, sensing his sudden distress.
He shakes his head.
‘Do you want to come in?’ I ask, hoping he’ll say no, but feeling like I should ask, at least.
‘Thank you, but I really must get going. It was lovely to meet you, erm…’
‘Charlotte,’ I say, shaking his extended hand. ‘And you too. Great to meet you.’
‘Jack,’ he says.
‘That’s four letters.’
‘Sorry?’ he says, squinting and tilting his head.
‘Oh. Erm, Gavin. My husband. He’s terrible with names. He couldn’t remember yours. He insisted you had a three-letter name.’
‘Oh right. No worries.’ He straightens up. ‘Well, as I said, I’m Jack. Jack?—’
‘Jack in-a-hurry,’ I say, as if guessing his surname wins me some sort of prize.
Jack snorts. ‘Well, Patterson, actually. But everyone who knows me would agree that I’m Jack In-A-Hurry when it comes to work.’
I nod, familiar with the excuse. Gavin uses it all the time.
Jack says something more but I’m distracted by rustling behind me and my attention shifts towards the kitchen and I suspect Heather is awake. The rummaging grows louder and closer. I freeze, knowing Heather will burst through the house at any moment and I’ll be forced to explain to yet another neighbour why a woman is living with us.
I’m relieved when Jack steps out from under the porch light. ‘Good night, Charlotte, it was lovely to meet you. And, I’m sorry to dash?—’
‘No worries, Jack,’ I say.
Heather comes skidding into the hall as Jack walks away. Her bag is flung over her shoulder and she’s trying to get her coat on at the same time as stuffing her phone into her bag. Her hands are shaking so much she can’t seem to coordinate them.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I- I- I have to go to the hospital.’ Heather finally manages to get her phone into her bag and when she looks up and her eyes meet mine, my heart skips a beat. There’s terror in Heather’s eyes and it reaches out to grab me.
