Page 42 of Secrets at the Little Music Shop

Jason grimaced and re-started the car. ‘Sounds like what we got here, my love, is a breakdown in communication. Basic psychological problem, only way round it is for you and your man to get it all out in the open.’

I stared. ‘There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?’

Jason gave me a sleazy grin and cupped his groin. ‘Better believe it, darling.’

* * *

Rosie was scrubbing the kitchen when we arrived. A huge bucket of bleach stood in the middle of the floor and the place smelled like a swimming pool.

‘Oh, Jason, you found her!’ Rosie clambered to her feet and gave me a moist hug.

‘Steady. I can feel myself going blonder just standing here. What are you doing?’

‘Making sure that when that stupid woman comes back she can’t find anything to complain about.’ Rosie peeled off a rubber glove and rubbed a streaming eye. ‘She told me I had to clean this place from top to bottom.’

‘She what?’

Jason, wisely, put the kettle on. Rosie slumped down on the edge of the table. ‘She looked everywhere, Jem, it was awful. Even in my wardrobe. She found some old biscuits that I’d left in the cupboard that had gone all soggy — you know I don’t like those horrible ones with the coconut in . . .and she said . . . she said . . .’

‘She said the place was unfit to house a baby.’ Jason had to finish for her.

‘Hang on. The social worker said that?’ I sat next to Rosie. ‘That the place was unfit?’

Rosie just nodded. She seemed numb but that might have been the fumes, the place smelled so strongly of chlorine that we could have used the kitchen to purify water. I put an arm around her.

Upstairs Harry let out a wail. ‘I’ll go,’ Jason said. ‘You make the tea, Jem. And there had better be biscuits, I’m warnin’ you now.’

I waited until he left then gave Rosie a squeeze. ‘Rosie, I don’t want to make you feel like an idiot but you did ask for ID, didn’t you?’

She paused half way to pushing her hair up onto her head. ‘What?’

‘I have never in my life heard of a social worker calling in like this, no prior contact or anything, and telling you to clean your house. I mean there’s no problem with Harry is there? Even the doctor said he was extraordinarily healthy—’

‘You mean, she might not have been real?’ Rosie looked around at the gently steaming bucket and the bleachy condensation running down the walls. ‘That I’ve done all this for nothing?’

‘It’s just a bit odd, that’s all. Social workers are normally pretty laid back about things unless they think a child is in actual danger, which Harry isn’t. So I take it you didn’t ask for ID?’

‘She said she was . . . oh, Jem, I’ve been a nutjob again, haven’t I?’

Jason, coming back in, met my eye over Rosie’s head and mouthed, ‘Saskia’. I nodded.

‘I think you’ve been deliberately fooled. Someone’s idea of a sick joke, maybe?’ Jason raised his eyebrows.

Rosie let out a huge breath. ‘God. You’re right of course. She didn’t even offer me any ID and she looked a bit — skinny for a social worker.’

‘Yeah, well, I don’t think they all look like King Kong you know.’

‘And I thought it was funny, her wanting to look through the cupboards. I — God, Jem, you’re brilliant.’

‘Just doing my job, ma’am.’ I tipped an imaginary hat.

‘And look at it this way, you won’t have to clean this place again for years.’ Jason passed Harry over to his mother. ‘Think of the time you’ve saved yourself.’

‘It doesn’t really work like that, Jason.’ Rosie cuddled Harry to her. ‘So. In recognition of my being such a total moron I suppose I ought to cook you dinner, Jem.’

Over her head Jason mouthed ‘Thank you, God.’ Rosie went on. ‘You are such a good friend, Jemima.’

Jason raised an eyebrow behind her back. I felt a wash of such shame that my cheeks must have coloured. How could I have thought that it would be so easy to leave? I looked at the walls, at the hallucinogenic pattern on the old lino, smelled the musty cooked-in smells underlying the bleach. Why couldn’t I just settle here?

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