Page 119 of Vengeance is Mine

‘We could clear out the attic, too. There must be all kinds of junk up there. And the shed.’

‘New year, new start.’ He smiled.

‘You’ve got football programmes going back to the Eighties you never look at.’

‘Steady on, Barbara,’ he said, with a horrified look on his face.

Barbara let out a genuine throaty laugh – her first in a very long time.

Chapter Fifty-Two

It took Barbara and Harry two days and a gallon of tears to decide which of Stephanie’s belongings they wanted to keep and which to get rid of. The photographs, the drawings, the teddy bears, Barbara wanted. They were personal items which were special to Stephanie and would always remain special. The duvet covers, the curtains, the carpet, the clothes, the posters were all expendable.

‘Shall I take these curtains to the charity shop?’ Barbara asked. ‘There’s nothing wrong with them, though I might have to give them a quick wash,’ she said, smelling them.

‘You can’t give those to charity.’

‘Why not?’

‘Look at the bottoms – the moths have been at them.’

Barbara looked down and saw tiny holes along the seam. ‘Oh my God, I didn’t notice. I don’t want people thinking we’re mucky.’ She sighed and looked around the rapidly emptying room. ‘Do you think we should just have a bonfire and throw the lot on?’

‘Good idea. Let’s wait until dark, though.’

‘Why?’

‘Her next door has just hung out a load of washing.’

‘Fair enough. Right, we need two piles: one for what we’re going to keep and one for the bonfire.’

‘I’ll get a couple of those plastic crates from the garage – we can put what we’re keeping in there,’ Harry said.

‘Good thinking. Oh, is there anything else we want to get rid of, while we’re in a burning mood?’

‘I don’t think so. What were you thinking of?’

‘Your football programmes?’

‘Barbara, they’ll be worth something one of these days. I’m not getting rid of them.’

Barbara rolled her eyes. ‘What about those Christmas sweaters?’ she called out to him as he went downstairs.

‘Why is it all my things you want to get rid of?’

Barbara smiled and left the question unanswered. She turned back to look at the room she had spent twenty years wallowing in. It hadn’t taken long to turn it from a shrine into a simple spare bedroom. The thought suddenly struck her: what would they do with it once it was empty?

By eight o’clock, everything for burning was stacked up in a pile in the back garden. Harry was getting a bonfire lit in the centre of the lawn, using old pieces of wood from the garage. While he was battling with the elements to get it lit, Barbara ran upstairs for one final box.

‘What do you think?’ Harry asked, standing back and marvelling at the flames.

‘I feel like I should be holding a sparkler and making baked potatoes,’ she said, smiling.

‘Ooh, I could just eat a jacket spud, with baked beans and melted cheese on top.’

‘Shall I pop a couple in the oven? They’ll be ready by the time we’ve burned this lot.’

‘Go on then.’

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