Page 49 of The Psychopath Next Door

As I was about to cross the road back towards Iris’s house, Tommy and Nicola sailed past me in their car. I did a double take:boththeir sons were in the back seat. Eric and Albie. I watched from the opposite pavement as Nicola got out and opened the back door of the car. Eric scrambled out, and then Nicola reached in and took the hand of her older son, helping him. He could walk, but looked dazed, holding up a hand against the evening sunlight. He’d lost a lot of weight too.

‘What are you gawping at?’

That was Tommy, who had also got out of the car.

‘I’m happy to see he’s home,’ I said, watching Nicola lead Albie towards the front door of their house. ‘How is he?’

A tear leaked from the corner of Tommy’s eye. ‘He’s home. That’s all that matters, right?’

Then he hurried up the path, after his wife and son, before I could reply.

Before I could move away, Eric glared past me at Fiona’s house. He saw me looking.

‘My dad’s gonna get her,’ he said.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Eric, come here!’ Tommy yelled, and the boy scuttled up the path, disappearing into the house. I was about to go into Iris’s when Tommy called, ‘Oi.’

I waited, feeling irritated. When he reached me, he said, ‘You’re friends with her, aren’t you? The Aussie. Tell her I want a word with her.’

‘Can’t you tell her yourself?’

He scowled. ‘She’s avoiding me. Every time I go over there she pretends she’s not in.’

I really didn’t have time for this. To get him off my back I said, ‘Sure, I’ll tell her.’

He pointed a threatening finger at me. ‘Don’t forget.’

Back at Iris’s, I went upstairs to slip the most valuable records into sleeves, then spent the next hour going through the rest of the collection to see if anything else stood out. There were a few others that were rare and in near mint condition, including some more Beatles albums and singles, but nothing anywhere near as valuable asYesterday and Today.

Back in the living room, Iris had opened a bottle of sherry to calm her nerves. I explained that, if she wanted me to, I would come round to catalogue everything and estimate each piece’s value.

‘Most will only be twenty or thirty pounds, or less, and I can definitely find you buyers for the mid-range stuff, like that Velvets album. I know a guy who’s a keen collector of anything to do with Lou Reed. I know loads of Beatles and Dylan collectors too. There’s one big Beatles collector near here. I’ll call him. Assuming you actually want to sell?’

Iris nodded, still dazed.

‘What are you going to spend the money on?’ Rose asked. She seemed very excited that something as stupid as a record – these ancient artefacts her dad was so obsessed with – could be worth so much money.

Iris took a sip of sherry. ‘I don’t want to spend it before I’ve even got it, but I’ve got a son in Canada who I haven’t seen since before the pandemic. It would be lovely to visit him. I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise too.’

Rose’s eyes glazed over. How quickly she grew bored. ‘When are we going home?’ she asked me.

I exchanged a laugh with Iris. ‘Kids. So restless. We’ll go back soon, Rose.’

Iris said to her, ‘I’ve seen you coming and going with Fiona. I hope you’ve been having fun together.’

‘We have.’

Iris put her sherry glass down on the side table and leaned forward, cupping her chin with her hand. ‘Has she always lived in Croydon? The more I see her, the more I’m sure I know her from somewhere.’

Rose shook her head like she’d been asked a difficult question by a teacher. ‘She’s from Australia.’

‘Yes, I know, but ... What does she do again? For a job, I mean.’

‘Something in banking,’ I replied. ‘She has a new job starting in September, apparently. That’s right, isn’t it, Rose?’

‘I don’t know. We don’t talk about stuff like that.’

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