Outside, he let out a drawn-out breath of relief; he could feel his tense neck and shoulders start to loosen up. Back to the drawing board, he thought, as he headed off toward his parked car.
What if Christina Long was just a name from his head? Perhaps Mrs. Rees was still the prime suspect. Either way he was no closer to finding out what she wanted, and how in God’s name he was going to get rid of her.
Stepping through the front door of his house, Richard was greeted with Nicky, standing by the stairs, still in her work coat, with a look of surprise. “Where have you been?”
He closed the door, removed his damp jacket, and hung it on the radiator. “Just into town. Why?”
She shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering. It’s the first time since you’ve been off that you haven’t been here, that’s all. It’s nice when you’re home. I’m usually the one who’s home first.”
Ignoring her obvious dig of resentment to his long working hours, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. “I got bored in the house—what’s for tea?”
He started for the kitchen. She followed. “I could ask you the same thing,” she retorted, playfully. “You’re the one who should be cooking.”
Entering the kitchen, he ignored the dreaded chair. He had to. But ignoring it did nothing. The woman now dominated most of the house; the kitchen was no longer the center of his fears. “What do you fancy?” he asked. But as he spoke, he noticed that both the refrigerator and freezer doors were hanging wide open. Frowning in confusion, he asked, “Did you leave those doors open?”
Taking off her coat and hanging it on the back of a chair, she replied, “No. I’ve only just got in. It must have been you this morning.”
Water had pooled under the freezer, so he grabbed a tea towel from the radiator and covered up the wet. He then pulled out the freezer drawers. “Everything’s ruined. All the meat’s defrosted.”
Walking over to the refrigerator, Nicky checked inside. “Most of this should be all right. What time did you leave to go into town?”
He started to throw the ruined food into the kitchen bin. “This morning. I’ve only been in the refrigerator this morning for milk, I didn’t open the freezer.”
“Strange,” she said, picking up an open milk carton and sniffing it. “I must have done it then.”
He stood and looked at her. “Look, this wasn’t me or you—so who’d ya think it was?”
Checking the ham, she replied, “I don’t know. Maybe one of us didn’t close it properly yesterday.”
“What, both the fridge and the freezer?”
She closed the refrigerator. “Look, I’m not getting into this ghost thing again. I’m really not in the mood. I must have left it open, all right. Me. Not some ghost. It was all me.”
“I’m willing to drop it, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you, and absolutely positive it wasn’t me, so that leaves either a ghost or an intruder.”
“Fine—it was an intruder then,” she snapped. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
He was certain she thought that something unexplainable was happening in their house, and she was just being stubborn—she had to be—but he swallowed his frustration to avoid another row. “Okay, okay. Let’s not fight again. Let’s forget about the food. I’ll go shopping tomorrow and restock.”
“Fine. Let’s just get takeaway tonight.”
He nodded, then knelt down to wipe up the wet floor with the already soaked tea towel. “What do you fancy? Pizza? Indian? Chinese? Or we could go out for food?”
She thought for a moment, then answered, “I don’t really fancy going out. Maybe Chinese. What do you fancy?”
“I’m easy. Chinese sounds fine,” he replied, soaking up the last of the water, then standing.
“Will you call them for me?” she requested, almost childlike. “You know I hate phoning.”
He smiled tightly. “All right. What do you fancy?”
“Let me go get a menu.”