When the doorbell finally rings, I slowly unbolt each lock. Butterflies squirm in my belly but I manage to squash them. It’s not the two police officers standing on my porch, however, it’s the postman. He’s a regular visitor and is well aware of my foibles but there’s something dark and furtive about him. Still, while I wouldn’t say I feel comfortable when he appears, his presence is not frightening.
‘Hello, Zoe!’ he says, raising his thin eyebrows. ‘You have a parcel.’ He holds it out and I take it awkwardly, shoving it under my arm.
‘There’s no sign of another letter is there?’ I ask. I’ve been waiting for my annual missive from HMRC. There’s nothing like a tax return for someone who appreciates boredom.
He shakes his head. ‘Sorry.’ He looks like he’s about to say something else but he’s interrupted by a car pulling up next to the oak tree.
We both look at the police car and I notice that his body stiffens. When Officer Sex-In-The-Alley raises a hand in my direction, the postman grins.
‘Been a naughty girl, have we?’ He pats me on the shoulder and winks. I’m annoyed but I try not to show it. You should never let some people know that they’ve annoyed you because they’ll do it more often. I think the postman is one of those.
I mutter something inane and barely notice his departure because I’m focused on the policeman. His uniform looks normal and he’s not carrying anything out of the ordinary. His eyes still look kind. I really must be crazy if I think he’s involved in some intricate plot to send me into a drug-induced dream world and throw water on my hair.
‘Ms Lydon,’ he calls out cheerily. ‘I hope you’re alright?’
His concern seems genuine. I force a smile. ‘Yes.’ Sergeant Rawlins joins him on the path. I look from one to the other. ‘Come in.’
They exchange glances as I step aside. I direct them into the living room but don’t invite them to sit. They do anyway.
‘So, Ms Lydon, we’d normally ask you to make a statement down at the police station but...’
‘But because I’m a loon who refuses to step outside you’ve been kind enough to come and do it here instead,’ I say drily. They both look uncomfortable.
‘Indeed.’ Rawlins laughs awkwardly. ‘We just have a few questions.’ She waves a recorder in my direction. ‘Do you mind?’
I examine the device a little too thoroughly before nodding. ‘Sure.’
‘Have you ever seen the man who collapsed at your door before?’
‘No. As I told your colleague,’ I smile pointedly at Officer Sex-In-The-Alley, ‘sorry, I don’t know your name...’
He looks embarrassed. ‘Hartman. Constable Hartman.’
‘As I told your colleague, Constable Hartman,’ I repeat, ‘I’ve no idea who he was.’ I watch their faces carefully. When both their expressions flicker, I suck in a breath. ‘You don’t know who he is either, do you?’
Rawlins seems frustrated. ‘We’ve been to all the neighbouring streets and checked with all the residential homes. No one has seen him before.’
Panic swirls in the pit of my stomach and I’d been doing so well up till now. ‘He was wearing slippers!’
‘He may have driven here. Or someone dropped him off in the area. We are confident we shall establish his identity soon.’
I have no response. I simply stare at them as I try to work through the possibilities.
‘Did he say anything?’ Rawlins probes.
‘He told me not to trust the department.’
‘What department?’
‘I have no idea.’
Rawlins frowns. ‘Can you think of any reason why he’d come to your door in particular? It’s not the easiest to access, after all.’
I rub my forehead. ‘Nothing springs to mind.’ I meet her eyes. ‘Why did he die?’
‘We’re waiting on the post-mortem.’
‘So it may not even have been natural causes? He might have been...?’
‘You are letting your imagination run away with you, Ms Lydon,’ she says, no doubt silently adding ‘crazy lady’ as an epithet at the end of her sentence.
I give up on her and appeal to Hartman instead. ‘This can’t be normal. Elderly people can’t just appear from nowhere.’
He scratches his neck. ‘It does look a little...’
For a moment, Rawlins’ fa?ade slips. ‘Alistair!’
My mouth drops open. ‘Alistair? That’s your name?’
He smiles at me, while Rawlins rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah.’
‘Ally Bear,’ I whisper.
Hartman freezes. ‘What? What did you say?’
I stare at him while he stares at me. Rawlins is beyond confused. ‘I’m not quite sure what’s happening here...’ she begins.
‘Who calls you that?’ I interrupt.
His neck reddens. He doesn’t answer but I can see enough of the answer in his eyes to tell me that someone does.
I feel the walls press in on me. Nothing is making any sense.
*