Page 58 of The Stranger in Room Six

Belinda

‘Oh! You’re already here,’ says Mabel when she comes back from lunch. Hastily, I smooth down her duvet. If she’d been any earlier, she’d have caught me turning the mattress over, checking if the list or locket hasn’t slipped underneath.

‘Just thought I’d change your sheets.’

‘They were only done yesterday.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know. Never mind.’

As a carer, washing clothes and bedlinen is part of my responsibilities. It reminds me of my laundry stints in prison. The two are not so different. There are stains in both worlds.

‘I’ve been desperate to hear the next part of your story,’ says Mabel, hobbling over to the chair by the window.

Sometimes she needs a wheelchair but today she seems happy with a stick.

‘It’s got to be one of the most dramatic things I’ve heard.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be in prison.

Now, you said you’d made a mistake when you left off last. What was it? ’

Her eyes are feverishly bright.

If I’ve broken the promise we made, how can I know she’s not spilling the beans on me too? But then if I don’t come up with something intriguing, she won’t give me anything to share with Mouse.

The sound of a vacuum cleaner suddenly passes by Mabel’s room. ‘We should find somewhere quiet to talk,’ I say. ‘How about I take you out into the grounds in your chair and we can sit in the chalet?’

The chalet is an outdoor room where residents can look at the garden whatever the weather. I can never get enough of fresh air after being in prison for fifteen years.

Luckily there’s no one else there when we arrive.

I tuck a tartan rug over Mabel’s legs. It’s not cold but I know that she ‘feels it’ in her knees.

‘Come on, come on,’ she says, impatient as a child. ‘Tell me what happened.’

‘I’d hoped to get onto a computer class so I could track down Karen,’ I start.

‘But then I spoke to someone who was already on it, and she said their privacy controls were so tight, they couldn’t even get onto Google.

So I asked Mouse for help. She told me I needed a private investigator and that she had a mate who owed her a favour. ’

Mabel’s eyes widen. ‘So did this “mate” find her for you?’

‘No. I called it off.’

‘Why?’

‘Because then Elspeth visited again. Just seeing her made me realize the most important thing in my life was seeing my girls again as soon as possible, and that meant being a model prisoner. If anyone had found out that Mouse’s contact was doing this for me, my sentence would have been extended.’

‘So that was your mistake?’

‘Yes and no. I’m in two minds, to be honest. Part of me wished I’d taken the risk.’

‘But what would you have done if you had found Karen?’

‘I’m not sure,’ I say.

She looks at me as if she doesn’t believe me. I’m not convinced I believe myself either.

The following day, she seems to have forgotten about our conversation. ‘I must get out for a walk,’ she says. ‘I’m suffocating in here.’

But I have to find that bloody list, which, I’m certain, is in her aunt’s locket – a piece of paper hidden inside or even a message engraved. Suddenly, I have an idea.

‘I need to get you dressed first,’ I say. ‘Let’s choose you an outfit.’ I open her wardrobe. ‘This dress is beautiful. Do you want to wear some jewellery? Like a pretty necklace?’

‘Why?’ asks Mabel. ‘We’re only going for a walk.’

‘Thought it might be nice to get dressed up, have a change,’ I reply, trying to sound casual. ‘Why don’t we look through your jewellery box?’

‘I don’t have one. I decided to have a clear-out the other year and gave my pieces to Harry’s daughter.’

My heart sinks. ‘You said you lost your locket earlier. Do you think you gave that away too?’

Her mouth sets. ‘Definitely not. It had my mother’s picture inside. I would never have done that.’

‘You know,’ I say, ‘before I went to prison and my life was normal, I used to hide my special things in various places round the house just in case we got burgled. Do you think you might have done that here?’

Mabel frowns. ‘Why are you so interested in my locket?’

‘I know what it’s like to lose things and I want to help.’ Even as the words leave my mouth, I feel terrible for deceiving her.

‘You are a dear to be so concerned. I must say that there’s nothing I’d like more than to find it. I’ve asked other carers to search too but none have had any luck.’

I feel myself panicking. ‘Do you think one might have stolen it?’

‘I have to admit the thought has occurred to me,’ sighs Mabel. ‘I like to think that sort of thing wouldn’t happen at Sunnyside. Still, I suppose one never knows. People aren’t always who they seem. Now let’s go out, shall we?’

As we pass the croquet lawn, Mabel leans forwards in her chair. ‘My aunt and the Colonel used to play there.’

‘Really? Did they have guests round to play with them?’

‘Sometimes, yes.’

‘Who?’

‘Oh, all sorts. I can’t really remember now. Why do you ask?’

‘I’m fascinated by the past, thinking of you growing up here.’

‘The past is gone,’ Mabel mutters.

‘But the memories stay, don’t they?’ I suggest gently.

‘Yes, I suppose they do. Both good and bad.’

I park her wheelchair by the side of the lake, where there’s a beautiful view to the sea.

‘See that cliff?’ says Mabel. ‘There’s a half-finished tunnel inside. It’s one of the places Antonio and I would go for privacy. We –’

She stops.

‘Go on,’ I say, sitting down beside her. ‘Please.’