The House Sitter

by Jill Barry

  “That’s right,” said Eddie. “Many thanks, Ruth. Is the back door unlocked? I may as well bring the shopping in that way.”

  Ruth reached the hallway. Stood at the bottom of the staircase like a gatekeeper. “It’s locked, of course. Shall I go through and unlock it? I can help put the groceries away.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself, my dear. I’m fine.”

  Ruth turned her attention to Suzanne. “Why don’t I carry your case upstairs and unpack for you? You look tired, dear. All this stress is making its mark.”

  As Ruth saw Suzanne’s mask of politeness shift, she cleared her throat, reverting to her nervous habit, stroking her throat as if it was the comfort blanket of her childhood. She waited for the other woman to respond. Would Suzanne accede to her wishes or would she stamp her authority? She heard the sound of Eddie’s feet crunching on the gravel path as he headed for his car. It was a pivotal moment, but did Suzanne recognise it as such?

  “I’m not in the least tired, thank you. In fact, I feel better than I have in months. You should think about taking a few days away too. We’d always pop down and feed the cat.”

  Ruth watched her friend. Mistress of the house, Suzanne had recovered from the deliberately spiteful comment and looked sleek and in control. As if she’d returned with batteries recharged. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen.

  “How were Penny and the children? I’d love to see them again.” She remembered too late that she’d met Suzanne’s daughter only once and that was before her children were born.

  But Suzanne’s expression relaxed. Her own experience was much more important. “It was wonderful spending time with them. I’m so pleased Eddie convinced me we should put the house on the market. It’s the right thing to do, at this time of our lives.”

  Ruth glanced towards the kitchen door and decided not to pick a fight. This was not the right moment to hint Suzanne might find a long-term relationship with her grandchildren more exhausting than short, sweet bursts of quality time. She longed for a way, any way, to extract from the couple the return to their semi dependency upon her that she craved.

  As if on cue, Eddie reappeared. “Place is immaculate, Ruth.” He held out an envelope. “Here you are, my dear. Before I forget. We’re very grateful to you for helping us out. Hopefully we shan’t need to bother you again before we move.”

  Ruth stared down at the envelope. Raised her arm to take it from him. The sensation of being paid off like a redundant employee permeated her whole being. She felt a wave of giddiness. Her body was giving her clues. Swaying a little, she closed her eyes. Crumpled to the floor where she lay, waiting to see what the couple would do next.

  Back at the office, Bethan stared at the monitor before her. She’d wanted another look at the website. Words leapt out from the impressive CV of one Claudia Kelsey: Dynamic. Passionate. Sophisticated. Providing entertainment with class and elegance. Creating an intimate atmosphere. Whether it’s a romantic ballad or something to make your toes tap, Claudia brings her own very special magic onstage.

  On screen, the golden girl’s hair gleamed like polished ebony. Blue violet eyes smiled at the world. Her legs began at her shoulders. Her pleated silver gown clung here, rippled there. No wonder Claudia’s besotted lover longed to buy her a hideaway home. Did he aim to make her fall in love with Three Roads and the comfortable nest he planned so he could keep her for his eyes only, away from her adoring public? Would such an exotic creature wish to bury herself in the Welsh countryside?

  Bethan closed down the site. Why did she feel such bleakness? What did Ray Kirby’s love life have to do with her? She already had a husband. Sort of. She should concentrate on rebuilding what she and Tim once had and stop harbouring dangerous, hungry thoughts that nibbled and gnawed at her reason. Such thinking could only bring heartbreak.

  Somehow Bethan endured the rest of her day. Sifting inquiries passed on by her staff, arranging to make three valuations next week. She needed to concentrate. Her professionalism came to her aid. She learned the people she showed around the Old Mill at short notice had made an offer which satisfied the vendors. The regional manager emailed her.

  It was no good. At around four o’clock she decided to ring and check whether the Deacons were home.

  “Hello, Bethan.” Eddie’s voice sounded cheerful. Excellent. Maybe he’d kicked the witch into touch.

  “Is this a good time?”

  “Absolutely. We’ve been back several hours. Unpacked. Washing machine in action as we speak. I think my wife has taken on a new lease of life.”

  “That’s brilliant news.” Bethan chose her words carefully. “If I could update you as to what’s been going on—?”

  “Feel free. Our house sitter has left everything tidy. After we left, I had a guilty feeling there might have been a slight problem in the downstairs cloakroom but Ruth explained what had happened. Naughty old Sparkles, ay?”

  Bethan gritted her teeth.

  “Anyway,” Eddie continued. “Ruth said those two consultants were charming. Any hope of them making an offer?”

  “Apparently, Mr and Mrs Sarani are in no hurry.” Bethan decided not to pursue this thread. “There’s also a young couple who love your house but probably can’t afford it, though you never know. What’s really promising is that Mr Kirby has requested a second viewing.”

  “Hey, that’s good news. Well, we’re up for it, Bethan. Is this so he can bring his lady love to check out the place?”

  Fleetingly Bethan wondered how far Eddie Deacon’s eyes would stand out on stalks when he clapped them on Claudia. “I believe so,” she said. “He was obviously impressed after his initial visit.”

  “Old Sartin behaving himself, is he?”

  “As far as I’m aware.” She couldn’t put it off any longer. “I’ve arranged to meet Mr Kirby at your house tomorrow at noon. So, there’ll be three of us descending on you. I hope that’s in order.”

  “Of course. Suzanne and I will look forward to it.”

  Bethan heard the note of hesitation in his voice. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “My wife and I have seen a couple of properties we like so we really need to push on with our sale. Or should I say, you do?”

  “Understood. That’s what I’m here for.” She paused a beat. “We have to hope Mr Kirby’s partner falls in love with The Sugar House.”

  “Indeed. Before you go, I wonder whether I should ask Ruth to warn our farmer friend about this second viewing? Mark his card, so to speak.”

  Bethan sucked in her breath. “If you don’t mind my being totally frank, Mr Deacon, I’d advise you not to say anything about this appointment, either to Ms Morgan or to Mr Sartin.”

  “But the old devil takes notice of Ruth.”

  “Surely you don’t anticipate a problem? You told me there have been only two isolated incidents since you moved into the village.”

  “That’s right. So, you really don’t think I should say anything?”

  “Mr Deacon, please trust me for now. If necessary, we can have a little chat tomorrow. I apologise if I sound mysterious, but believe me, I do have my reasons.” She hesitated. “I’m sure Ms Morgan would understand if she happened to call and you politely asked her to return at a time when you could enjoy her company in a more relaxed manner.” She held her breath.

  “Whatever you say. Suzanne or I will ring her later, as she left here saying she felt a bit under the weather. But if it’s what you want, we’ll keep this second viewing under wraps.”

  Eddie put down the phone, feeling puzzled. He wandered out to the conservatory where his wife sat reading a glossy magazine she’d pounced upon at the supermarket. The dog snoozed at her feet. The scene radiated contentment.

  He lowered himself on to the wicker chaise longue opposite. “That was Bethan Harley ringing for a chat.”

  “How did she know we were back?” Suzanne peered over the top of her reading spectacles.

  “I sent her a text.”<
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  “You’ve done a great job of sheltering me from all this, haven’t you?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Now we’re back, that won’t be so easy. Are you sure you’re feeling as refreshed as you look, my darling?”

  She laughed. “According to our dear friend, I look tired. Suffering from too much stress.”

  “Ignore her. So, what really was going on there, d’you reckon?”

  “The fainting fit? I’m not sure, Eddie. She made a big, heroic thing of insisting she was fine to drive herself home. I think there are many sides to Ruth. Also, she could be going through that particular phase of life when her hormones are all over the place.”

  “Or she could have been swinging the lead, as my old dad used to say.”

  “I had the feeling she was playing to an audience.”

  “But why pretend to faint? I’d just handed her a cheque. Should I have bought a bouquet of roses to go with it? Oh, damn it, you didn’t give her those chocolates you insisted on buying.”

  “They’ll keep. As for the fainting, I don’t know. All I know is that for a while now, her attitude to me has been strange.”

  “Believe me, Suze, I haven’t encouraged her in any way. She hasn’t a hope in hell of sidelining you, my angel.”

  “I wonder if that is what’s behind all this. She does have a habit of trying to undermine my confidence. Our confidence, if I think back to the first time we shared our plans with her.”

  Eddie nodded. “She can have a possessive attitude, I agree.”

  “There was absolutely no reason for her still to be here today. She offered to carry my case upstairs and unpack for me. I probably sound like an ungrateful old biddy but I’m not in my dotage quite yet!”

  “You’re certainly not. She wanted to help put away the groceries too. Going it a bit, I thought.”

  “Honestly, Eddie, when Ruth appeared on the staircase, I actually felt like we were the live-in domestic staff returning from a break and she was Lady Ruth, bestowing a gracious welcome.”

  Eddie gave a short mirthless laugh. “I don’t know about that but there’s a cold, calculating look about her eyes that I haven’t noticed before.”

  “Tell me what Mrs Harley said.”

  “Something very encouraging. You’ll be pleased to know that big guy Kirby is due here tomorrow with his lady friend.”

  “I meant to ask you to find her on the internet.”

  “I’ll take a look later. The main thing is, Bethan has asked that we don’t tell anyone about tomorrow’s viewing.”

  To his astonishment, Suzanne nodded.

  “You don’t find that surprising?”

  “Not in the least. While we were away, I had time to think back on those few days after Ruth learnt of our decision. Remember how she suddenly put on a good face after that initial frostiness?”

  “To be fair, Suze, we should have broken the news to her before the sale sign went up.”

  “No one gave us a knock to say they’d erected the board. If you remember, that evening, we battened down the hatches soon after you let Sparkles out for a wee.”

  “All H2O under the bridge now. But what else were you mithering over while we were away?”

  “I don’t want to sound paranoid but I can’t help remembering certain things. Before we went away, Ruth was very keen to be kept informed when people were coming to view. In her place, I wouldn’t dream of insisting on such a thing.”

  “Well, we did leave her in charge while we went away, Suze. She needed to know what was what.”

  “No, Eddie. I mean right in the beginning. Personally, I thought it a little odd, considering you gave Mrs Harley a door key and permission to bring prospects even if we weren’t here. It’s about as odd as Mr Sartin choosing the precise morning we had a viewing to abandon his tractor right in front of our gate.”

  “But Ruth chased around looking for him. She went out of her way to help.”

  Suzanne pursed her lips. Gave a slight shake of her head.

  “Am I missing something here?”

  “Possibly. But not something I can back up with evidence. It’s a gut feeling. A kind of unease.”

  Eddie shrugged. “Fair enough, but I can hardly ban the woman from calling, can I? That would really be rubbing salt in the wound.”

  “There’s one other thing I’d like to say. It’ll sound ludicrous. Trivial. But I can’t help feeling uneasy.”

  “Suze. . .?”

  “It’s about when Ruth was lying on the floor and I went to fetch a glass of water. You helped her sit up and she took the tumbler from me. That’s when I noticed a very out of character thing.”

  “You’ll have to spell it out. As in men are from Mars and women from Venus.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to notice but she had a streak of metallic varnish on one fingernail. I’ve done that myself. Removed old nail polish in a hurry and missed a bit.”

  “What’s the big deal? I don’t understand.”

  “Ruth never, ever, uses nail varnish, Eddie. Seriously! In all the years we’ve known her, even when she’s come here to a drinks party or Christmas Dinner, her nails always look clean and scrubbed but unpolished. Doesn’t that make you wonder why she’d suddenly take to varnishing them?”

  “Maybe she decided she was missing something. Maybe she borrowed some of yours, to see how she liked it.” Eddie’s voice surged with the triumph of suggesting a neat solution.

  “I never buy anything remotely close to that shade. All my colours are pinks and purples. Do you not notice? Oh, silly me, of course you don’t.”

  “Where’s this leading, Suze?”

  “I’m not even sure, myself. All I can say is, when I saw that scrap of leftover polish on Ruth’s fingernail, I felt as shocked as if she’d suddenly pulled a gun.”

  Chapter Twenty

  On Saturday morning, Bethan dressed with extra care. She selected a short-sleeved vivid emerald jumper with a charcoal skirt suit and sheer black tights. Her appearance didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Heels? Perfume? On a Saturday morning?” Poppy looked up from her breakfast muesli as her mother headed for the kettle. “Mum, if you’re dressing up like a footballer’s wife, you should wear the silver locket Dad gave you for your anniversary.”

  “Oh, I should, should I? I’m going to work, dressed to look professional, not as if I’m off to lunchtime drinks later.”

  “You could’ve fooled me.” Poppy mumbled through a mouthful of oats and seeds.

  “Do you want a lift to Callum’s? You weren’t sure last night.”

  “Change the subject, why don’t you?” But Poppy smiled. “You look great, Mum. And no, I don’t need a lift thanks. I have an essay to finish.”

  “I’m impressed by your early start. And thanks for the compliment.”

  “Callum’s calling round later. There’s a photographic exhibition on at the Arts Centre. 1960s stuff. Sounds cool. What time will you be back?”

  Bethan sipped her herbal tea. “Not sure. Officially I shouldn’t be working but I’m anxious to attend this particular viewing.”

  “Ah. This is the guy with the partner who’s a singer, right?”

  Bethan nodded.

  “So will that creepy woman be, like, hanging there too?”

  “Goodness, I sincerely hope not. What I’m hoping is that Mr Kirby and his lady decide to make an offer so the Deacons can get away well before Christmas. And I can stop worrying about what might happen next.”

  Poppy slid off her stool. “Do they know any of the stuff you told me about?”

  “I haven’t said anything yet but I felt I should warn them not to say anything to their friend about this morning’s viewing.”

  “Wow.”

  “Don’t worry. I managed to say as little as possible but I imagine I’ll have to explain myself later.”

  “Shall I do you a slice of toast, Mum?”

  “Yes, please, darling.”

  Poppy fed two slices of bread into the toaster. “
What if that creepy woman decides to spy on the house?”

  Bethan shuddered. If Ruth Morgan rang the Deacons to suggest they met up later and received a negative response, would the woman suspect something was going on and decide to set up another of her little jollies?

  “I was only joking.” Poppy put her arms around her mother.

  Bethan smelled citrus fragrance drifting from the lustrous hair and warm, young body. Tenderness swelled inside her as she hugged her daughter back.

  “I know. But I don’t want you worrying about me, sweetheart. There’ll be plenty of people around this morning.”

  “I can still remember feeling scared that time I overheard you and Dad talking about what happened to that estate agent.”

  “You must have been eavesdropping at a tender age! We wouldn’t have meant to frighten you about something that happened so long ago. But we all learned a lot from that tragedy. And Suzy Lamplugh’s mother has left a legacy for us all.”

  “It’s scary to think of someone doing the same job as you, going off alone to keep an appointment with a stranger in an empty house. I’m glad you text the office before you go inside an empty property.”

  “Nowadays, mobile phones make all that easy.” Bethan’s imagination dragged her from safety precautions and flashed an image of close-cropped dark hair, broad shoulders. Powerful thighs in tight black jeans. She felt a jolt of unexpected pleasure. Far from being a lone female, on the occasion she accompanied Ray Kirby on his first visit to The Sugar House, the vendors were sitting downstairs in their conservatory while she carried out the tour. But any woman would feel safe if Ray was around, whatever the situation.

  In the master bedroom, Bethan had kept her eyes on the big man as he unlocked the veranda door, having asked if he might step outside to enjoy the view. She’d been enjoying her own view. On that morning, hadn’t she experienced a swift physical jolt, similar to the one hitting her now? She’d imagined those powerful hands exploring beneath her severely-styled jacket. Would she have pushed him away? Or would she have welcomed that intimacy? Once initiated, how badly would she have craved more? Would she and Ray Kirby have given in to the spark of attraction she knew each sensed in the other but determined to ignore?