After I’d confronted Sylvia, gone shopping and returned to start the casserole, I’d gone upstairs to our room and had passed the locked door to the spare room.
So many secrets in this house. Instinctively I’d tried the handle; it had become a reflex, a habit.
Still locked. I’d bent to peer through the keyhole, but still I hadn’t really been able to see anything: the edge of a bed maybe. The door was solid and wooden – but the lock was old.
Frankie had been ensconced in his room, probably asleep, despite the hour, so I’d gone out to the garage and rooted around the toolboxes until I found some galvanised wire, which I’d twisted into the shape I’d needed.
Standing in front of the impenetrable door, hands on hips, I’d seen myself aged ten. I’d done this throughout our childhood, when we were locked in. It’s not hard if you know how, slotting the pick into the lock. Although, this particular one had been very stiff.
At some point, as I’d rocked back on my heels, Frankie had stumbled down the landing to use the bathroom, hair on end.
‘I’m going to miss you when you’re gone,’ I’d told his departing back. ‘Specially looking like that.’
But it’s good, I’d told myself again. I’m glad he’s off on Sunday. Off to safety.
He’d gone back to bed.
The door had opened, and I’d been in.
It hadn’t been what I’d expected: oh no, not at all.
* * *
7.40 p.m.
* * *
The vegetables are all ready to go in their pans, the French onion soup’s bubbling, cheese grated, croutons cut – and the casserole’s in.
‘Is it a special occasion?’ I ask, as I take my apron off to rush up and change.
‘New deal with Transregions.’ Matt checks the champagne again; he’s already on his second beer, keyed up and excited. ‘Sean’s given me free advice. There’s some papers to sign actually.’
‘Oh?’ I check the temperature of the sauce. ‘That’s good then?’
‘Should be.’ He kisses me again and pats my bottom. ‘Should be a whole turn of fortunes. Put that nice red dress on, hon. It’s really sexy.’
I feel galvanised for the first time in weeks.
When I come down, there’s a glass of fizz on the side for me and The Killers on the stereo. Matthew’s outside, checking the garden lights. I should be excited, but the memory of Alison’s hostility at the party makes me nervous. I’ve never even met Sean. They are Kaye’s friends.
I cast away the image of what’s behind the spare-room door.
Quickly I drink my champagne and check the dining table. It looks nice, classy – the room dimly lit, snow-white roses as a centrepiece, our home-made place names. It’s almost like a restaurant.
The doorbell rings; Matthew answers it. I hear laughter, the rise and fall of voices.
The drink seems to have gone straight to my head. I straighten the napkins, feeling a little woozy. I drink some water.
‘Hello.’ I smile, coming into the hall. Sean is a small, wiry man with slicked-back grey hair. Alison looks completely different out of her pirate costume. Her curly red hair is tied back, and she wears a severe black dress.
Sean kisses me hello; Alison hands me chocolates from Rococo.
‘Can’t go wrong with truffles,’ she says rather stiffly.
‘No, you can’t. I love all chocolate! Thanks so much.’
Frank and Luke say hello and trudge upstairs. I feel Matthew tense slightly as he watches his son chattering to mine, but I’m glad they’re together.
‘They get on then?’ Alison asks. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
I tense, waiting for Matthew to correct her, but he doesn’t. He’s very buoyed up about something.
‘Champagne?’ He propels us all into the lounge, where we sit and chat until I have to check the food.
When I come back, the men are looking at some papers and Alison is leafing through a copy of House & Garden from the coffee table. It must be one of Kaye’s old subscriptions.
She looks out into the garden.
‘You’ve had outdoor lights put in,’ she says. ‘It’s such a lovely big space, isn’t it? You could do so much with it.’
‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘I’d like to get into gardening actually. I don’t know much about plants though. I’ve never really had a garden of my own.’
‘I could help you, if you liked,’ Alison says, and I try to hide my surprise. ‘I had my own business for a bit when I retrained.’
‘Oh thanks. That’d be really kind. We’ve got a gardener who comes once in a while…’
‘Yes, he’s very handy.’ Matthew comes over, papers in his hand, and kisses my head fondly. ‘New guy, since old Bill broke his hip – Simon something,’ He takes a pen from his pocket. ‘Hired him a few months ago. Hon, can you—’
‘Simon?’ My skin feels suddenly icy. ‘Are you sure? Do you know his surname?’
‘Not off the top of my head. Now shall we crack on?’ I hear irritation creeping into Matthew’s voice. ‘Can you just sign this please?’
‘Of course.’ I force a smile.
Matthew points at places in the documents marked with an X, and I take the pen he offers.