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After May and June’s relentless heatwave, at least July is behaving as a British summer should. I look up to the sky, grateful the morning has begun with darkening clouds. At least I won’t be sweating quite so much when I start cleaning her house after dropping Oscar back to his owner. I politely decline Walter’s offer of a cold glass of fruit squash as I’d rather not leave Paul alone with her any longer than necessary. He already has her to himself in the evenings and God only knows what lies he’s been poisoning her fragile mind with.
I arrive at her house but the door is locked, which is unusual because Paul’s van is here. I slip my key into the lock but it won’t turn. I try again, twisting it at all angles, but it absolutely won’t budge. I make my way to the gate to let myself into the back garden but the latch won’t open either. Then I realise there’s a new lock fixed to it that requires a key.
I’ve been slow to catch on, haven’t I? Paul has changed the bloody locks without telling me.
Stay calm, I tell myself, a mantra I’m repeating many times daily. I return to the front door and go to press the bell, but it’s missing. It’s been replaced by an electronic device with a built-in camera enabling you to see who is on your doorstep by phone. I hold back from pounding the glass with my fists. Instead, I remind myself he will win again if I allow emotion to cloud my judgement. After a time, she opens the door a crack.
‘Connie,’ she begins. ‘Paul said you weren’t coming today.’
That’s news to me. ‘It’s cleaning day, isn’t it?’ I reply, and I don’t wait until she invites me in. I push past her and pretend as if everything is normal and that I haven’t just been locked out of her house.
Passing through the hallway, I notice that about half the framed photographs that were positioned on the console table have vanished. Her wedding pictures are no longer there, along with the two photos of me I put there myself.
She follows me as I remove the caddy of cleaning products I keep under the sink. ‘What’s happened to the front door?’ I ask breezily. ‘My key isn’t working.’
‘Paul installed new locks for me.’
‘That’s good of him,’ I reply through gritted teeth. ‘Why did he do that?’
‘Because I was frightened when he told me there’ve been burglaries in the village and they’ve been targeting pensioners. He said new locks would make the house safer.’
‘Well, aren’t we lucky to have him around?’ The sarcasm is lost on her. ‘And the camera on the door?’
‘It’s amazing, isn’t it? Paul can use his phone to see who it is every time someone comes.’
Paul’s voice comes from behind me so suddenly, I jump out of my skin.
‘You never know who might find their way into your house when your back is turned,’ he says pointedly. He is clad in just a towel around his waist. His hair is wet and he is in no hurry to cover himself up. I force myself not to give him the physical attention he craves. ‘Gwenny, I thought from now on only I was going to answer the door?’
‘Sorry, I must have forgotten.’
‘We’ve got to be careful, haven’t we?’ He looks me in the eye. ‘There are a lot of people out there who don’t have your best interests at heart.’
I ignore the jibe. ‘Where do you keep the spare keys?’ I ask.
‘We don’t have any,’ Paul says. ‘I need to get some cut.’
‘I’m going into town later; I’ll get it done and save you the trouble.’
‘An ordinary locksmith can’t supply them. They need to be custom-made by specialists.’
If I bite my tongue any harder, I’m going to sever it. I don’t believe him for a second.
‘Well, where do you want me to start today?’ I direct to her. ‘Upstairs or downstairs—?’
‘You’ll be wasting your time,’ Paul interrupts. ‘Sanding the floorboards threw up a lot of dust and it’ll only get covered again when I finish the rest tomorrow.’
‘I thought you hated bare floorboards, Mum? You said they reminded you of your childhood, when your parents couldn’t afford to buy carpets.’
‘Did I?’
‘Well, it’s lovely to see you, as ever, but we’re heading out soon,’ Paul says. ‘And you don’t have a key to lock up after you.’
I am not budging.
‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll take my time and stay until you return. Best to have someone here with all those burglaries going on, isn’t it? Where did you say you were going, Mum?’
‘The garden centre for brunch,’ she says and turns to Paul. ‘That’s right, isn’t it? I’ve never had brunch there before.’
