Page 21 of The Psychopath Next Door

‘My issue is that I don’t really know you,’ Emma had said to Fiona. ‘It’s not that I want to appear like I don’t trust you, but ...’

Fiona, who had wiped off the lipstick and changed into a long skirt, put her hands up. ‘I totally get it. What do you want to know? Actually, before we start, do you want a cup of tea? Or a glass of wine? You look like you could do with one.’

‘Am I that transparent? I’m tempted, but I’d better stick with tea.’

Fiona knew that Emma worked selling pet food. A booming industry, apparently, though Fiona could hardly imagine doing something that tedious. Had the young Emma foreseen her future as one in which she flogged dog meat? Something must have gone wrong along the way.

Fiona made tea and said, ‘Come and meet Karma the kitten.’

They went into the living room, where Karma was asleep in her bed on the floor.

‘I’m getting cute rage,’ Emma said. ‘You know, where something is so adorable that you can hardly bear it and you just want to squeeze it?’

‘Oh, I do. So what do you want to know about me?’

The next hour played out like an interview; one in which Fiona got to practise telling her story. Her name was Fiona Smith – ‘I know, so boring’ – and she had lived in the UK for sixteen years.First part a half-lie, the second part true.Both her parents were dead and she had no reason to go back to Australia.Not true.Before coming to live here in South Croydon she’d worked in the City, going to an office in Canary Wharf every day, but she’d been made redundant during the pandemic.Absolute horseshit.Her new job, doing something in banking that she said was too dull to go into, was due to start in September.Also a lie.There was no job lined up. She had other plans to make money.

‘I know you’re not supposed to ask this question,’ Emma said, ‘but it feels relevant: have you never wanted kids of your own? I mean, I know you’re not too old, but ...’

She winced and Fiona arranged her face to show mild wistfulness. ‘I did once. But my partner never wanted them.’

‘He didn’t want to be a dad?’

‘She. And no, she said she never had that maternal urge.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Emma’s face flushed pink. ‘I shouldn’t have assumed.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ But she let it linger for a few moments. People like Emma had many fears, but one of the biggest was the horror that they might appear prejudiced in any way.

‘I always thought I might be able to persuade her, but then ... well, it was too late.’ Fiona squeezed her eyes shut, so they appeared moist when she reopened them. ‘She died.’

‘Oh my goodness. How awful.’

‘It’s okay. It was a few years ago. But yeah, I never got to be a mother – though I promise I’m not trying to fill some kind of weird hole in my life with Rose.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘To be honest, I don’t even likelittlekids that much. But eleven, twelve, it’s such an interesting age. Between childhood and growing up. I suppose I have this picture of myself as a kind of cool aunt, which I also never got to be because I’m an only child.’ She grimaced. ‘Listen to me. A full-on self-pity party. Emma, I would totally understand if you didn’t want your daughter hanging out with this sad Aussie who you hardly even know. I’m sure this holiday club will be fun. Rose thinks she’s going to hate it, but I’m sure it will be good for her.’

It was such a mix of lies and truths that Fiona herself was beginning to lose track, to believe it all herself.

Emma sighed. ‘If I make her go to that club she’ll hate me forever.’

Fiona didn’t say anything.

‘Sod it. If you’re absolutely sure you don’t mind, you would be doing us a massive favour. But I insist that we pay all your expenses, and if you get fed up or she’s difficult in any way, you need to let us know straight away.’

They shook hands and then Emma went back to tell Rose the good news.

Fiona sat there with Karma in her lap until it grew dark, making plans. Having a little helper was going to make things so much easier.

But it was only when they were out and about that Fiona realised there was a surprising advantage to being accompanied by a child. When she bought the tickets, the woman behind the desk asked, ‘Is your daughter under sixteen?’ It hadn’t even entered her head that people would think she was Rose’s mother, but on the train a man nudged his teenager and said, ‘Move over, make room for this woman and her daughter.’ He proceeded to smile at her as his son huffed. The man rolled his eyes at her, saying, ‘Kids, eh?’

‘Yes,’ Fiona responded. ‘Kids.’

‘The days are long and the years are short, am I right?’

That man had got off a few stops back, saying, ‘I hope you have a nice day out.’

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