A Stranger's House

by Clare Chase

  ‘Paul,’ I said, firmly, to try to get through to him. ‘You couldn’t have anticipated this. When you started visiting her she was infatuated with Damien Newbold.’

  I’d got his attention, but I hadn’t won him over.

  ‘Even so,’ he said, ‘it’s the kind of thing you’re meant to look out for.’

  ‘She’ll get over it. It’s all part of growing up. And at least you’ll be aware now, when you see her next.’

  ‘Of course.’ He took a sudden, deep breath. ‘And thank you for telling me.’

  I excused myself for a moment and nipped across to the ladies. While I was there, a text came through from Steph. Just heard. R U OK? RU with the police? Call if u’d like 2 talk. S x

  I slipped the phone back into my pocket, but her message gave me a warm little kernel of strength.

  Back in the main room of the cafe, Paul said, ‘Sorry about just now. I didn’t mean to go over the top; it’s just a shock. And all my work with my students has been a bit difficult lately. I’ve asked college if I can reduce some of my duties from next term.’

  ‘Can’t be easy.’

  ‘I just don’t think I’m cut out for it. And I’ve got a nasty little visit I’ve got to make tomorrow afternoon.’

  I looked across at him.

  ‘Out the way you’re headed actually.’

  ‘To do with someone in your care?’

  He nodded. ‘I have to get the family involved, and I’m not looking forward to it.’ He gave me a wry smile. ‘I was going to make a selfish suggestion.’

  I was curious. ‘Go on. Put me out of my misery.’

  ‘I was just wondering whether you’d fancy a lift over to Saxwell St Andrew. It’d be good to have company – make the whole expedition less onerous. I could drop you off at two, say, and then come and pick you up again from your friend’s place at around four-thirty.’

  I was torn. The timing should work okay if Steph was around. ‘I’m not sure what sort of company I’ll be,’ I said. ‘It’s the first time I’ll have been back home since I walked out.’

  ‘I might not be the life and soul myself,’ Paul said. He sighed. ‘Perhaps we should make it another time. It was just the coincidence of us both being headed in the same direction.’ He smiled for a moment. ‘I bought a second-hand convertible at the end of April – an Alfa Romeo. Goes like the clappers and it’s great on these hot, summer days. I wondered if we might blow the cobwebs away and forget our troubles.’

  I thought of the denizens of Saxwell St Andrew twitching their net curtains to get a look as I stepped out of the sporty car, accompanied by Paul. I knew that since Luke’s fall from grace they would all have been busy pitying me in a very public way. (‘She was passed over for someone younger, you know. Well, of course, it often happens.’) Turning up in style was quite appealing … But, in reality, I knew I’d rather Nate took me over, even if he drove me in a tractor … And he already thought Paul and I had something going on. I didn’t particularly want to fuel his suspicions.

  ‘It’s really kind of you,’ I said at last, ‘but maybe it’s something I should tackle on my own. I’m bound to be in a state, and you’ve got enough on your plate as it is.’

  He nodded slowly, and then started to write on a scrap of paper. ‘I understand. But if you change your mind, just call.’ And he handed me his mobile number.

  Either way I needed to get the visit over and done with. As I walked back along Gwydir Street I texted Steph to check she’d be around the following afternoon, and got confirmation moments later.

  When I got back to River House it was late afternoon and the police had gone, both from the study and the back garden.

  ‘Did they find anything to indicate another will?’ I asked.

  Nate shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I didn’t see exactly where they searched, but they’ve only just left, so I reckon they must have been pretty thorough. They were up in Newbold’s bedroom too.’

  He was in the kitchen, busy with various bits of shopping. ‘I went to Waitrose whilst they were at it,’ he said, glancing round at me, his hair falling over one eye. ‘Do you fancy joining me for …’ He looked at the worktop. ‘… a Parma ham, black olivey, artichokey thing on pasta?’

  ‘That sounds amazing. What can I do?’

  ‘Is it too early for us to have a stiff drink?’

  ‘Under the circumstances, definitely not.’

  ‘In that case there’s gin in that cupboard, tonic in the fridge and a lemon in that bag on the table.’

  I could see he was a man with the right priorities. It wasn’t making it any easier. I kept catching myself looking at him. A thirty-something teenage crush. Well, it might bloody well be a crush, but that didn’t alter the potency of the effect. And somehow, it felt more significant than that.

  I looked up from slicing the lemon and caught his eye. An instant blush crept up my neck. Thanks a bunch, body. He’d spot me if I didn’t do something drastic. It didn’t help that the chopping he was doing was making the muscles in his forearm flex. The rejected woman now has you in her sights, Mr Nate Bastable. He’d be terrified.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Samson by the way,’ he said, taking a large slug of his G&T.

  ‘God. What did he say?’

  ‘Immediately told me he was in the Red Tavern all yesterday afternoon. As you can imagine, he was also quite curious to know whether the police had found any new will.’

  ‘Yes, I can see he might have found that topic diverting. As for the Red Tavern alibi, well, his coming out with it like that sounds like a guilty conscience. Mind you, there will be a whole crowd of people who can vouch for him, if it’s true.’

  ‘You’re right there,’ he said, and went back to chopping up the ham.

  The food was good and so was the company.

  ‘I never asked about your Saffron Walden woman,’ I said, suddenly remembering.

  ‘I’d be surprised if you had, under the circumstances. Fascinator though she was, she did rather pale into insignificance in the light of other events.’

  ‘Fascinator, eh?’

  Nate gave me a look. ‘Not in the way you might imagine. She was wearing a long, emerald green dressing gown when I arrived.’

  ‘Interesting, given the time of day.’

  ‘Exactly. And she was also sporting a wig the colour of tomato juice.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘It’s safe to say she doesn’t carry off dressing up as well as you do.’

  ‘Thanks. Although from what you say, it doesn’t sound as though the competition was that stiff.’

  ‘I have to confess you’re right. She had a considerable amount of curly brown hair, visible under the fake red stuff.’

  ‘O-kay. Still, I suppose at least she’ll be absent when your house-sitter takes up residence.’

  ‘Right. But unfortunately her seven cats won’t. They come with the house, and they need sitting too.’

  ‘Oh my. Do you get a lot of requests from such, urm, individual types?’

  ‘More than you might imagine. Still, it makes this job more interesting.’ He sighed.

  ‘But not interesting enough?’

  ‘That’s just what I would have said, until all this business with Damien and Maggie. Now I remember what life at the sharp end’s like.’

  He looked away, and I sensed he wanted me to move the conversation on. ‘I’ll stack the dishwasher,’ I said. ‘My turn to do something. You cooked.’

  ‘Okay.’ He took a deep breath, but then smiled. ‘Though you did a good job with those G&Ts. I think mine would have floored a slighter man.’

  I grinned as I put the pans into the bottom rack.

  In minutes, everything had been put away, and all the dishes stacked. I looked at Nate, suddenly feeling awkward, but at that moment, his mobile went.

  ‘Oh, Bex, hi!’ he said. ‘How are things at home? Speck behaving herself?’ A pause. ‘Really? That bloody cat, she’s got such a cheek. Has there been much post?’
>
  For a second, I hoped I’d misunderstood, but it did seem that this Bex person must be in residence at Two Wells Farm, awaiting Nate’s return. Slight surprise after what Steph had said. Not especially pleasant.

  ‘I meant to say,’ Nate went on, ‘I’m expecting a letter from Edinburgh. If you see it, any chance you could forward it on? Perfect. Cheers.’ Then after a moment he added, ‘Yeah, you too.’ And he rang off, and turned back to me.

  ‘I didn’t realise you had someone keeping the home fires burning,’ I said, before I’d thought how it would sound.

  ‘Bex?’ He paused for a moment and rubbed his jaw. ‘Oh. I see what you mean. She’s not there full time. She’s feeding my cat for me whilst I’m here, and keeping an eye on the place.’

  An unreasonable tug of jealousy continued to tweak at my insides. They sounded close.

  He turned away, and there was a long pause before he added, ‘We go way back, but she’s not a girlfriend. I don’t really do relationships.’

  Although Steph had already told me that, him saying it made a difference. He had noticed the way I’d been reacting to him; this was him warning me off. Bollocks. In fact, quadruple bollocks.

  ‘Steph mentioned that,’ I said, trying to sound casual. ‘I rather wish I’d stuck to the same rule.’ I moved towards the door. ‘I’m chilly; I’ll just fetch a jumper.’ And before he could reply I nipped out of the room. Upstairs, I took my time. The evening had turned cooler, so getting a layer was a reasonable excuse for my exit. Right. I needed to show Nate I wasn’t after him; otherwise this was going to be unbearably awkward. I texted Paul. Cd I take u up on the lift 2morrow after all? The reply came before I’d descended the stairs. Certainly. I will pick you up at 2 p.m. The message was very him.

  As soon as I’d told Nate my plans for the next day I felt better; hopefully he’d assume he’d been wrong all along, and that his ‘back-off’ messages had been uncalled for.

  We were drinking coffee, and keeping our distance, when there was a knock at the door. I checked my watch. Half eight.

  ‘I’ll look,’ Nate said, and went into the hall to peer through the spyhole. ‘Fi from next door.’ He opened up.

  She looked flushed, and her eyes were damp. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said, when she saw Nate. ‘I didn’t realise …’

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ he said. ‘Do you two want to use the kitchen?’

  I nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  As we walked through, Nate disappeared into the drawing room.

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked. She was close to tears; the first time I’d seen her in that state.

  ‘It’s Emily. Turns out she didn’t keep her appointment at the university counselling service yesterday.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, sitting down as I digested this. ‘I see.’

  ‘The police have been asking questions, of course, and there’s no doubt at all. She did a no show. But she’s being really stupid and won’t tell anyone where she was. Not even me. Just says she was “walking around”.’

  I couldn’t think what to say.

  ‘Truth to tell, I’m worried sick,’ Fi said, taking a tissue from her pocket to wipe her eyes. ‘It’s like I can’t get through to her any more. And if she doesn’t get more cooperative with the police, I’m scared about what might happen next.’

  She went quiet and in the background I could hear Nate, playing blues music on the piano.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nate had ensconced himself in the study by the time I came down to breakfast the next day, but he appeared in the kitchen to get some iced water from the fridge. After the awkwardness of the previous evening, I had the urge to get up and start busying myself at the sink the moment he appeared. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Just a house-sitting crisis to deal with,’ he said. ‘Not quite on the scale of this one, admittedly. The woman who’s looking after Renstone House in Huntingdon just called to say the family’s guinea pig’s had babies, but they’re all dead.’ He sighed. ‘It’s right what they say about never working with animals. She wants to know if she should store the bodies in the fridge until the family gets back.’

  ‘Hmm. That’s a knotty one.’ I rubbed at some imaginary limescale round the taps with my cloth.

  ‘Would you want dead guinea pigs in your fridge?’

  I glanced over my shoulder for a moment; he wasn’t looking in my direction. ‘You can report back that your focus group of one says no.’

  ‘Didn’t think so. I’ll maybe call the vets in Huntingdon and see if they’ve got facilities for preserving them for a week or so.’

  ‘They couldn’t just be buried?’

  I heard the sound of ice cubes dropping from the dispenser into his glass. ‘We did that once, when someone’s cat got run over. Big mistake. You should have heard the fuss the owner made. Exhumation was involved.’

  He left the room again. In spite of my plans with Paul for later in the day he seemed intent on keeping his distance now. I must have really put the wind up him. The sinking feeling in my stomach was hard to ignore. Humiliation entwined itself with disappointment.

  But Nate’s focus on work reminded me of my own responsibilities. I needed to decide how to tackle the matter of an errant partner. I pressed my fingers to my temples. Someone, sooner or later, was going to notice that the topic of my book was directly relevant to my own life. I was using other people’s experience of midlife crisis to make money – okay, maybe even to entertain – so I shouldn’t baulk at using my own. I would make some passing reference to mine and Luke’s experience, without mentioning his or Daisy’s names, of course. Must protect the innocent.

  With that matter out of the way, I turned my attention to visiting Saxwell St Andrew. It occurred to me that I could use the video camera on my phone to take a quick tour of my old home, enabling me to look back from the safe distance of River House, and work out what belonged to who. As far as my clothes went, I could just shove them into bin bags and take them with me straightaway.

  I suddenly wondered whether Paul’s convertible was the sort with no back seats and hardly any boot space. Maybe it had been a mistake to take him up on his offer. Should I call him to rearrange? It seemed too late somehow. And I knew that, if necessary, Steph would give my belongings house space until I could pick them up or she was able to bring them to me.

  But then there were my books … I might as well get them out straightaway too. Perhaps I’d better just ring Paul and explain.

  I dialled the mobile number he’d given me, but eventually it went to voicemail. He was probably giving a tutorial or something. And by the time he was out … I’d just have to let our arrangement stand.

  I was halfway through drafting some text on my very personal experience of Luke’s midlife crisis when my mobile rang. It was Steph.

  ‘Still on for a meet up later?’ I said, hoping she wasn’t calling to cancel.

  ‘Yes, sure.’ There was an ominous pause. ‘Um, about this trip to Saxwell …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I mean, I haven’t told Luke or anything, of course.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘But you are just coming to pick up clothes and things, aren’t you?’

  ‘What is all this, Steph? What do you think I’m going to do? I’ll be in our house for about ten minutes; just enough time to shove my clothes and books into a few bags and then hot foot it over to your place for tea and chat.’

  She harrumphed a bit. ‘I know, I know. I knew that.’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s just that Luke came round to ours last night – not in the house I don’t mean, but just knocked on the door.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘And he’s had another one of the nastier sort of poison pens he’s been getting.’

  ‘Oh, Steph.’ It was all becoming clear to me now. ‘You’re not telling me it’s a threatening one and you think I’m going to let myself in and slash his best rugby shirt with a Stanley knife?’

&nbs
p; ‘God no!’ said Steph, transparent as ever.

  ‘Luke thought I’d been writing those letters, you know,’ I said. ‘But you’ve got no bloody excuse to think it. Luke’s not aware of where I am or what I’ve been up to, but you know what’s been happening here, and what I’ve been doing.’ I heard my voice crack, much against my will. ‘Is it likely that I’ve been sitting round dreaming up creative insults?’

  ‘Ruby, sweetheart, please don’t take it like that.’

  ‘You’re meant to know me too well to think any such thing.’

  ‘And I do,’ she said. ‘It’s only because of what you’ve been through recently that I even entertained the thought for a second. In the last couple of weeks you’ve had an acrimonious break-up with a long-term partner, found a dead body, dealt with a grieving teenager …’ She paused to draw breath. ‘You have to admit it wouldn’t be beyond the bounds of possibility for you to behave out of character, under the circumstances.’

  ‘And Luke convinced you it was me.’

  ‘No, no, of course, he didn’t. He was just worried in case it might be. He was as shocked as any of us at the idea.’

  ‘As any of you? Good grief, how many of you were there, sitting round the cauldron?’

  Steph laughed for a second and then stopped abruptly. ‘Only him, me and Robin.’

  ‘Why would Luke even think I’d bother?’ I said, bitterly. ‘Frankly, I haven’t had the energy.’

  Steph sighed again. ‘Well, it was something that was in the letter.’

  ‘What kind of thing?’

  She tutted. ‘He wouldn’t tell me. Just said it was too personal to pass on. I thought maybe it was something to do with—’

  I cut her short. ‘Yes, thanks, Steph. Even my mind can conjure up the sort of personal details he might be referring to. Thing is, that narrows the field. If it’s someone who knows his bedroom habits, and it’s not me …’

  ‘You’re thinking Daisy?’ The words came out as though she was chewing them over, like a dog with a satisfying bone.

  ‘Unless he’s actually slept with a whole load of other women I know nothing about, or he talks about his sexual techniques down the pub. I certainly don’t ever discuss them.’ The idea was horrible.