Page 29 of The World Outside My Window

Carol stops, mid-rub, and sits down. ‘You’re right, sorry. I just didn’t want it to stain.’

‘I really am sorry,’ Debbie says, her cheeks flushed.

‘Really, it doesn’t matter.’ Carol picks up her spoon and turns towards Laura. ‘What does matter is finding this young man of yours.’ As she turns to Laura she bites into the peach and some syrup slides slowly down her chin. ‘Me and Arthur have been talking, haven’t we, Arthur?’

‘Yes.’ He shoves half a peach in his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything further.

‘Anyway, we’ve been thinking and we’re sure we can help you. I mean, we can’t think of anything in particular Jim said, but we’re sure something will come to us, and in the meantime we can help you investigate.’

‘That sounds lovely, thank you.’ Laura tries to hide the disappointment in her voice.

‘I mean, he really helped us out with the mortgage man,’ she continues. ‘And Jim’s always been so kind. We’ll do whatever we can.’

With nothing more to say they all concentrate on finishing their bowls of sticky fruit. As soon as the last mouthful is swallowed Carol leaps up again.

‘Would anyone like some tea?’

‘No, thank you.’ That was the most Laura has eaten for months, and she’s not sure she’ll even be able to move off the chair. Tea would push her over the edge.

‘Coffee?’

‘No, thank you. In fact, I think we should probably be getting back.’

‘Oh, really, so soon?’ Carol’s crestfallen face makes Laura feel guilty but she nods anyway.

‘I think Debbie needs to get home…’

Debbie checks her watch. ‘Yes, I really should be getting back or my husband will think I’ve left the country.’ She smiles, then stands and starts gathering bowls.

‘No, no, no, I’ll do that, you two better be getting going.’ Carol takes the bowls from Debbie’s hands and shoos her away. Arthur pushes some wayward strands of hair from his face, smoothing them down across the top of his head as they all start moving as one towards the front door.

When they get there Laura turns to Carol, trying not to notice the looming spectre of the front door. She takes a deep breath and sticks her hand out, ignoring the tremor in it. ‘Thank you so much for lunch.’ Carol takes Laura’s hand and clasps it between hers.

‘You’re very welcome. We’re so thrilled to have met you at last. And we promise we’ll do everything we can to help you find that husband of yours.’

‘Thank you. You’ve been so kind.’

As Laura walks out of the door, Debbie clutching her hand, she tries to pay no mind to the spinning garden, the hammering of her heart and the shaking of her body and concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other, again and again and again until she finds herself stumbling through her own front door, desperately trying to catch her breath.

Suddenly she’s being squeezed, Debbie’s arms tight around her shoulders. ‘You did it, you made it!’ Her voice is high and excitable and Laura can’t help smiling. Shehasdone it. Not only had she made it out of her house – which, now she’s back in it, she realises is more oppressively silent than peaceful and quiet – but she made it into somebody else’s house and spent at least two hours there, talking to them, making conversation, eating their food, getting to know them. She’s behaved like a normal person. She isn’t sure how she’s done it, but that doesn’t matter for now.

Debbie lets her go and she shivers. ‘I did, didn’t I?’

She nods. ‘This is just the beginning, Laura. We’re going to get round all these houses—’ she sweeps her arm in the general direction of the crescent ‘—and we’re going to find out what’s happened to Jim, whatever it takes.’

‘And if we don’t?’

Debbie shrugs. ‘We will. But if we don’t – well, then you’ll have made some new friends and made it out of the house, won’t you?’

‘I will.’ And that, in itself, is nothing short of a miracle.

* * *

It’s almost dark when a banging on the door wakes Laura up from where she was dozing on the sofa. She glances at the clock, bleary-eyed. It’s gone six, and it takes a second for her to work out where she is. Slowly it comes back to her. When she got back from Carol and Arthur’s, Debbie had to go home, and Laura, exhausted from the sheer mental effort it took to get out of the house, opened a bottle of wine. She peers down at the floor now and sees the empty bottle tipped on its side and groans as a wave of nausea rushes over her.

The pounding starts again and her heart begins hammering, a delayed reaction. Who on earth can be calling round if it isn’t Debbie?

She stands up gingerly, waiting for the room to stop spinning, then creeps along the hallway towards the front door. When she’s almost halfway there the letterbox flaps open and a pair of eyes appears in the slit.

---