Page 67

Chapter 67

Late August 2011

Georgia is starting to feel as though the work on the house is almost complete, even though the kitchen is far from being finished.

The restlessness which she has felt under the surface all her life is settling, little by little, with each day that passes.

She is getting ready to go out when the visitor arrives.

For a whole week the house has been full of Radio 2 and the singing of the plasterer who seems to know all of the words to all of the songs and is actually rather good, almost operatic, but very, very loud.

He has been in the kitchen all morning, doing the last bits and pieces, but has run out of something vital and has gone off in his van to collect it from the wholesaler.

The place smells of change, which is not unpleasant, but it’s all a bit overwhelming.

Georgia is going to grab the chance to visit the library to exchange her books and perhaps sit and read the newspapers.

She has reserved a copy of Ottolenghi’s Plenty .

When she hears the back door open, she assumes it’s the plasterer and she doesn’t turn around, but continues to put her things into her rucksack.

‘I’m just popping out to get something for dinner.

I expect I’ll be home at about three.

Help yourself to tea.

There are some biscuits in the yellow tin next to the kettle.

Just shop ones, I’m afraid.

I’m very much looking forward to having an oven again.

’

‘Where is she?’ It’s a man’s voice.

Someone she hasn’t heard before.

Georgia turns around quickly.

The visitor is standing in the kitchen doorway, both feet on the first of the two scullery steps.

Brown hair, tanned, looks as though he goes to the gym; all these things rush through her head.

‘I think you’ve come to the wrong house,’ she replies.

‘And I think I have not.’

Well-manicured hands.

A signet ring. Never mind about the ring, he could always take it off.

It might leave a white mark on his finger, though.

Little finger, right hand.

She can feel herself becoming extremely calm.

‘Which house is it you are looking for?’

Hard to see his eyes from this distance.

Mole above his left eyebrow.

‘Number 25. I know she’s here.

’ He takes a phone from his trouser pocket and stabs at the screen.

Left-handed. Needs glasses.

Same height as the hinge on the door jamb.

‘Electoral roll. Tess Dutton. 25 Library Terrace.’

‘You’re looking for Tess?

She isn’t here today.

’

‘I can wait.’ He looks past her.

The kitchen table and chairs are covered up with plastic sheeting.

‘I’m afraid that’s not convenient; we are in a state of disarray, as you can see.

’

‘I’m not in a rush.

I’ve got all day,’ he replies, speaking carefully.

Is he drunk? Georgia isn’t sure.

‘She won’t be back until this evening.

’

‘You’re lying.’

He is squaring up to her; she sees him lean forward a little and put his left foot on the next step.

‘I’m not lying. She is never here on Wednesdays.

’

He seems suddenly unsure.

‘If you tell me what it is that you want, I will give her a message.’

He raises his voice.

‘What I want is for her to answer the letters from my solicitor. What I want is compensation. What I want is for her to understand that she can’t get away with this.

’

‘I will be sure to give Tess your messages when she comes back, but that won’t be until this evening.

’

He has no place to put his anger.

‘May I ask why you didn’t knock on the front door?

That’s what visitors usually do.

’

He stares at her.

‘They don’t. Everyone comes round the back.

Delivery people, tradesmen.

I’ve been watching.’

‘I suppose you’re right, but I would be grateful if you would leave now, because I have to go out.

’

He wags his finger at her.

Left-handed. She looks at his feet.

Definitely. The shoelaces give it away.

‘Just be sure you tell her, or I will be back.’

At this point Georgia is sure he is angry, not drunk.

‘I’m going to Chicago tomorrow and I want this all sorted by the time I get back to Edinburgh in a month’s time.

I’m getting married, and I want my money.

’ And he turns back to the open scullery door, and leaves.

She lifts the plastic sheet off a chair and sits down.

After a couple of minutes she takes out her diary and writes it all down.

Left-handed, mole, fingernails, ring.

Just as she is finishing, the plasterer arrives.

‘I’m back!’

‘So I see.’

‘OK if I have a brew before I start?’ He turns on the scullery tap to fill the kettle without waiting for an answer.

‘Of course.’ She looks at him.

‘Just stand there for a moment, would you?’

He frowns.

‘Sure. Is there a problem?’

‘Not at all, I just want to check something. Stand on the first step there for me.’

He moves towards the kitchen and stands in the doorway, as requested.

She moves back to her earlier position in the room and eyeballs his height against the top of the door hinge.

‘How tall are you?’

He looks puzzled.

‘Five foot ten. One metre seventy-eight and a bit, according to my GP. I was there yesterday and she said I could do with losing a few pounds.’ He pats his tummy.

‘So I probably shouldn’t be eating your biscuits, Miss Williams.’

‘Taller than that, so he must be about six feet then,’ she mutters, and writes it down.

‘I don’t suppose one biscuit is going to hurt you, but I’ll stop leaving temptation in your way.

’

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yes, everything is fine. I just had,’ she pauses, ‘I just had an unwanted visitor but I’ve sent him away.

I don’t suppose we’ll see him again, but perhaps it would be an idea to close the back door while you’re here.

’

‘You’re the boss.

No one will get past me, though; your worldly goods are safe as houses while I’m here.

’ He looks around the room.

‘I should be finished in a couple of hours, there’s just a bit of tidying up left to do.

’

She tucks her diary into her rucksack and shoulders the bag.

‘Thank you. As I say, I don’t think he’ll return, but that’s very reassuring to hear.

I’ll be home at about three.

If my lodger arrives before me, and I don’t think she will, please don’t mention the visitor; I wouldn’t want her to be alarmed.

’

He nods. ‘My lips are sealed.’

She leaves by the scullery door and pulls it closed behind her.