Abi looked up at me as I walked back in from the kitchen.
‘What did they say?’ she said.
‘I didn’t ring them.’
‘Why?’
I wasn’t sure what had made me hang up as soon as they answered.
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘Something just made me think about it all again. I don’t want to come off as some crackpot who contacts the police every time I see a shadow or hear the wind blow.’
Abi said nothing. Happy to let me convince myself that I had done the right thing.
‘And you’re right,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t give them a description. Couldn’t tell them anything I hadn’t told them already, other than the guy has a shadow.’
She nodded.
‘And I’m sure he wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave fingerprints anywhere. He probably wore gloves. What’s the point?’
In the kitchen the phone rang. I knew who it was. I let it ring. Abi looked at me, then over my shoulder at the kitchen.
‘I’ll just let it go to answer-phone.’ I said.
‘Do you want me to get it?’ she said.
I rushed back into the kitchen and grabbed the phone just before the answer-phone clicked in.
I spoke to the police as quietly as I could, tried not to let Abi overhear. Tried to reassure them that everything was OK and that I had called through to the emergency services in error. Yes — I had thought I’d needed the police, I thought I’d seen someone in the house, yes — everything was fine now, no — I wasn’t under duress, no — I wasn’t alone in the house, I had a friend with me.
I realised I probably sounded even more like a crackpot than if I had just spoken to them in the first place.
When I walked back into the living-room, Abi pretended to be busy listening out for the children upstairs.
‘That was the police,’ I said. ‘I must have dialled the number before putting the phone down. They were just ringing to make sure everything was OK.’
‘Oh?’ Abi said.
‘I told them everything was fine, that I had rung them by mistake.’
‘Did you tell them about… anything?’ she said.
My eyebrow tickled. I tried to ignore it, but couldn’t.
‘I said that I had thought someone had got into the house, but that it was probably just the wind. Because I didn’t see anyone or hear any talking, I think they were OK with that. They just wanted to make sure everything was OK and that I wasn’t being threatened by anyone. They did ask me if anything was missing.’
Abi looked around the living-room.
‘And is there?’
I shrugged.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to look. I don’t think anything has gone. If there really wasn’t anyone here, nothing will be gone.’
‘It might prove, one way or the other, if someone was here,’ she said.
I couldn’t think of anything of value in the living-room apart from the TV and DVD player, and they were obviously still there. The computer was in the dining-room, and that hadn’t been taken either. I couldn’t see the intruder legging it down the street with a kettle or a microwave, but I checked them both just to make sure.
By the front door, all the coats and shoes were where they should have been, apart from the kids’ dumped in a pile as they’d stampeded through. My crossword books still lay scattered on the sofa. Even my mobile phone was where it had been, on the coffee table in front of the TV.
My handbag remained in a heap in the corner of the armchair. I opened it up and looked inside. My purse was still there. Nothing seemed to be missing at all. I even found myself looking up at the central light fitting and counting the light-bulbs.
And while I checked, I replayed the event in my mind. From when I’d heard the first noise to when I had charged down the stairs, screaming. I had smelled nothing different. But there had been a bump. The flowerpot? Blown over by the wind? But there had also been a scraping sound. Metal against something. A jangling of keys. I couldn’t explain that so easily. And the shadows on the wall. I had been lucid enough to prepare a weapon out of a towel, conscious enough to negotiate the stairs — at speed. Aware enough to hear Abi and the kids arrive outside. On this occasion, I didn’t think my mind had been playing tricks on me.
‘I didn’t see him,’ I said.
Abi nodded.
‘I know,’ she said.
‘It must have been my imagination?’ I said.
Once again I prepared tea for everyone. Abi stayed with me until Neil arrived home. Once again he was late. He didn’t look very pleased to see me, and he made no effort to be particularly friendly towards Abi. This time he definitely hadn’t texted or rung me. Apart from a brief hello, he walked upstairs. I heard our bedroom door close. Quite firmly.
Abi graciously left for home almost as soon as Neil walked in. She knew we had a lot to talk about. I told her I would ring her later or talk to her in the morning when she came to pick up Michael and Rose. She let herself and Jessie and Jose out, and I didn’t go to the front door to say goodbye. Instead, I left Michael and Rose to finish their tea and went upstairs to find Neil.
I tapped on the bedroom door. He didn’t answer, so I opened it.
He looked up as I walked in. He was sat on the bed, legs dangling over the side, shoes still on. He had loosened his tie, and his neck was flushed red, as though he had been rubbing it with a rough towel. His face looked grey, and sweat dotted his brow. I wondered if he was going to be sick.
‘Are you OK?’ I said.
He wiped some of the sweat from his forehead. His eyes were bloodshot. I wondered if he was drunk.
‘I feel a bit shit,’ he said. ‘Like I’m coming down with something.’
He ran his hand over his hair, pushed it back as if it was long and lustrous and not short and neat.
I reached over and put the back of my fingers against his brow.
‘You do feel a bit hot,’ I said. ‘When did this come on?’
He hesitated, as though I had asked him a trick question.
‘Neil?’
‘About lunchtime,’ he said. ‘I’ve just felt a bit off all afternoon. And tonight, on the way home, I started feeling worse.’
‘Didn’t they notice at work?’ I said. ‘They should have let you go early, not made you work late again.’
He blushed.
‘It was after I left, really,’ he said. ‘That was when it really started coming on.’
I sat down next to him. The bed bounced slightly.
‘Let me get you something,’ I said. ‘You should take some paracetamol, bring your temperature down a bit. And I’ll get you some water. Are you hungry?’
He shook his head and the bed bounced in time to the movement of his head.
‘Not at the moment,’ he said. ‘I might just lie here for half an hour or so. Just with the lights off. I won’t sleep. Just rest my eyes a little. I think it will help.’
I kissed his cheek and stood up as gently as I could.
‘I will get you some water though,’ I said. ‘And those tablets.’
I closed the bedroom curtains as he kicked off his shoes and lay back on the bed.
I wondered if I would get a chance to talk to Neil before the kids went to bed. Although I had hoped to have them safely with Abi by tomorrow, I couldn’t speak to them without talking it through with Neil first.
I stopped off at the bathroom cabinet to find the tablets and took the box downstairs with me.
As my foot hit the bottom step the front doorbell rang.
I hurried to the door so that it wouldn’t ring again and disturb Neil. With the box of tablets in one hand I slid the safety chain into place and opened the door with the other. The chain did its job and the door stopped moving when it had opened just a few inches. Through the gap I saw the doorbell ringer’s car at the end of the drive. My heart sank low in my chest then rose again, beating faster than I wanted it to. As well as feeling like some dark, malevolent sinkhole had been sucki
ng down whatever sanity I’d once had, I was now starting to feel persecuted as well.
It was a police car.
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