Page 44 of The New House

That’s why you enjoy stories about serial killers. It’s not because you’re sick people. You’re wired to feel this way. It’s natural to experience a vicarious close call and, well,survive.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I want you to know it’s OK that you’re getting off just a little bit by being in this room with me. It’s even OK for you tolikeme. I won’t tell.

[Laughter]

I told you, I’m one of thegoodones. If I do something bad you can be sure it’s for a very good reason.

Sometimes you have to cut out a cancer to save the patient.

Don’t think about the lives I took.

Think about the ones Isaved.

chapter 27

millie

I always sleep well: one of the benefits of being a doctor and years of working on-call. But Tom and the children know not to wake me before my alarm goes off when I’m operating the next day: the house had better be burning to the ground if you’re going to disturb me.

So when Tom shakes me awake in the grey light of dawn, I know it’s serious.

‘You need to get up,’ he says.

‘Are the kids OK?’

‘They’re not hurt, if that’s what you mean.’

‘What time is it?’ I ask.

‘Five-thirty.’

I get out of bed and grab an old pair of clean scrubs from the stack in my wardrobe, my go-to attire when time is short. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Jesus. You didn’t hear the hammering at the front door?’

‘Obviously not.’

Tom sighs. ‘Just hurry up and get dressed.’

I pull on my scrubs and follow him downstairs. The front door is open: standing in the street outside is our elderly neighbour from across the road, Mr Maxwell. Marshall. Something like that.

He has his arm around our son.

‘Why are you out of bed?’ I ask Peter. ‘Why are youdressed?’

‘Mr Mitchell was disturbed by a noise in his kitchen this morning,’ Tom says, his tone preternaturally calm. Only I can see the muscle working at the corner of his jaw that signifies how angry he is. ‘When he came downstairs, he found Peter going through his fridge.’

Peter ducks his head, looking suitably contrite. It’s an act, of course, but a convincing one.

‘You broke into Mr Marshall’s house?’ I demand.

‘It’s MrMitchell,’ the man says, apologetically.

‘I woke up early and I couldn’t find Pumpkin,’ Peter says innocently. ‘I was worried about her, so I went outside to look for her. And I saw her go into Mr Mitchell’s house so I went to rescue her. The kitchen window was open,’ he adds. ‘I didn’tbreakin.’

He’s so full of shit.

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