The Keeper of Lost Things

An hour later, having cleared up the mess, been sick twice more, stood under the shower for ten minutes, and dragged on some clothes, Laura sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea and staring at a piece of dry toast. Her date had ended in disaster. The memory of Graham’s tongue squirming lethargically in her mouth like the death throes of a particularly wet slug brought her out in cold sweat. Well, that and the aftermath of two bottles of fizz. How could she have been such a fool? The sound of the doorbell pierced her mournful reverie. Sunshine. Oh God, no. Please not today, she thought. There would be endless questions about last night and she just couldn’t face it. She hid in the pantry. Sunshine would eventually come round to the back door if her ringing was unanswered, and if Laura stayed where she was, slumped at the table, Sunshine would see her. The ringing continued; patient and persistent, and then the back door opened and Freddy walked in.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Laura frantically shushed him and beckoned him over to the pantry. Even such a slight activity caused her temples to throb. She held on to one of the shelves loaded with ancient jars of pickles to steady herself.

“God, you look rough,” said Freddy helpfully. Again Laura put her finger to her lips.

“What?” He was beginning to lose his patience.

Laura sighed.

“Sunshine’s at the front door and I really can’t face her today. I know you probably think I’m being pathetic, but I just can’t cope with all her questions. Not today.”

Freddy shook his head scornfully.

“I don’t think it’s pathetic. I think it’s just plain mean. You’re a grown woman hiding in a cupboard from a young girl who thinks you’re great and loves your company, just because you’ve got a stonking and probably well-deserved hangover. At least have the guts to go and make your excuses to her face!”

Freddy’s words stung like nettles on bare flesh, but before Laura could reply, the mood at the front door suddenly turned nasty.

Sunshine had no idea who the blond woman was marching up the path, but she looked pretty cross.

“Hello, I’m Sunshine. I’m the friend to Laura. Who are you?”

The woman narrowed her eyes as she looked Sunshine up and down, trying to decide whether or not she was obliged to answer.

“Is Freddo here?” she demanded.

“Nope,” said Sunshine.

“Are you sure? Because that’s his fucking Land Rover on the drive.”

Sunshine watched with interest as the woman grew redder and crosser and began jabbing the doorbell with her immaculately manicured finger.

“That’s Freddy’s fucking Land Rover,” Sunshine replied calmly.

“So he is here, then, the arsing arsehole!” the woman spat.

She jabbed at the doorbell again, and banged on the door with her fist.

“She won’t answer,” said Sunshine. “She’s probably hiding.”

Felicity stopped banging for a moment.

“Who is?”

“Laura.”

“What, that funny housekeeping woman? Why in God’s name would she be hiding?”

“From me,” Sunshine replied with a sad smile.

“Well that bloody sodding shit of an arsehole Freddo better not be hiding from me!”

Sunshine decided to try to be helpful. The blond woman was looking really furious now, and Sunshine was worried that she might break the doorbell.

“Perhaps he’s hiding with Laura,” she suggested. “He really likes her,” she added.

Sunshine’s words didn’t seem to help as much as she had hoped.

“You mean the bastard’s probably humping the help?”

The woman crouched down and began yelling through the letter box.

Freddy shoved his way into the pantry beside Laura and pulled the door to behind him. It was Laura’s turn to raise her eyebrows.

“It’s Felicity,” he hissed. The scorn had disappeared entirely from his voice to be replaced by an edge of desperation.

“And . . . ?”

It was Freddy’s turn to sigh.

“We had a date last night, except I couldn’t go, but I didn’t exactly tell her until it was too late and I guess she’s pretty mad . . .” He trailed off lamely.

Despite being cold, feeling sick, and with a head that was about to explode, Laura couldn’t help but smile. Her next words were delivered with as much relish as crammed the shelves that she was leaning against.

“Well, at least have the guts to go and make your excuses to her face.”

Freddy looked at her, astonished, and then his handsome face broke into a lopsided grin.

“I know you’re in there, you bastard!” Felicity’s voice shrieked through the letter box.

“You and that tart of a housekeeper! Well, if that dried-up, scruffy old bag lady is the best you can do, you were clearly punching well above your weight with me. You were crap in the sack anyway. She’s welcome to you!”

Sunshine stood next to the incandescent Felicity, uncertain how to proceed. She had gathered in all the words that had been spoken, or rather yelled, and was hoping to sort them out into some kind of sense later. Perhaps when Laura had stopped hiding, she would help her. Felicity appeared to have run out of steam. She gave the front door a parting thump and strode off the way she came. Moments later, Sunshine heard a car door slam, an engine rev, and tires squeal as Felicity took her leave, in a foul temper, leaving a good deal of rubber on the tarmac. Just as Sunshine was about to go home, another visitor arrived. This woman was older; smartly dressed and smiling.

“Hello,” she said. “Does Laura live here?”

Sunshine wondered what this one was going to do.

“Yes. But she’s probably hiding.”

The woman didn’t seem at all surprised.

“I’m Sarah,” she introduced herself. “I’m an old friend of Laura’s.”

Sunshine offered her a high five.

“I’m Sunshine. I’m the new friend to Laura.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s very lucky to have you,” the woman replied.

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