Page 16

SIXTEEN

Karen knew it would be freezing in the garage, because they kept bottles of water and Diet Coke and stuff in there and when they brought them into the house it was like they’d been in the fridge, even when it wasn’t as cold outside as it was now.

So she was wearing gloves, as well as thermals underneath her joggers and a thick, padded jacket.

She had one of Daniel’s woolly Chelsea hats on and two pairs of socks.

She stepped in through the side door from the dark of the garden and reached for the switch.

The strip-light immediately began to flicker and she remembered that Daniel had promised to replace it.

She knew that he would have done, because he was always good about that stuff.

He wasn’t lazy like a lot of men or happy just to say whatever would shut her up.

If he said he’d do something, or get whatever needing fixing fixed, he’d do it.

She smiled, thinking that she might have had to remind him . . .

The strip-light came on properly just then, and the smile broadened because it was like he was winking or wagging a finger at her.

You cheeky sod!

She walked across to where the little stepladder was hanging up.

All the tools were displayed on the wall around it, their outlines drawn around them so everything got put back exactly where it was supposed to.

There was a little plastic cabinet underneath them with the drawers labelled for all his screws and nails and washers and what have you.

She’d always reckoned he was a bit OCD or whatever the name for it was, but he wouldn’t have it.

It’s called being organised .

She reached to get the stepladder down. It wasn’t even a proper ladder really, just one of those fold-out things with three steps which they used if paintwork needed touching up or they were getting bits and pieces down from the top cupboards in the kitchen. Tupperware and all that.

She unfolded it, dusted off the top step and sat down.

She stared at Daniel’s motorbike.

There was mud on the wheels and a bit more spattered up the sides and she knew how much he would have hated that.

Obviously it got dirty all the time, because he was delivering stuff around town in all weathers, but he always cleaned it whenever he’d finished work.

Got the jet-washer out and sprayed all the muck off.

The police had delivered it back a few hours before.

She’d watched them bringing it home from the front window, seen it rattling down the road on a low-loader.

They’d brought Daniel’s crash helmet back with them too.

He’d left it sitting on the saddle, by all accounts, so as soon as she’d wiped the dirt off the visor and given it a bit of a polish, that’s where she’d asked them to place it, once they’d wheeled the bike into the garage.

She stood up, walked across and straightened the helmet for him.

You know me too bloody well, love . . .

Back in the house they’d be wondering what the hell she was doing, most likely, but Karen didn’t really care.

Her son had come over straight away of course and Daniel’s eldest girl a little bit later, but they could look after each other and, to be honest, she wanted to be on her own, just for a bit anyway.

She knew there’d be lots of things to organise, all the horrible jobs, and she’d be grateful for the kids’ help with that because she couldn’t think straight.

Didn’t know if she’d ever think straight again.

She took off one of her gloves and stroked the saddle.

The leather was cold, but it was nice to feel the cracks and the dips in it.

She put the glove back on and stood there for a minute or two with her eyes closed, just taking in the smell of it. The oil and whatever else, because it was also the smell of him a lot of the time. Then she turned to walk slowly back to the stepladder and sat down again.

She still wasn’t having it, the idea that he’d done it to himself. She hadn’t said as much to that detective because it felt sort of selfish, but the fact was Daniel never would have done that to her . Simple as that, really.

He wouldn’t have left her alone.

Course not, because you couldn’t cope without me .

It was true all the same, and even though the policeman had been very kind, she knew he’d been thinking that she was being a bit daft. That she was bound to think he’d never have done what they said he did, because anyone’s wife would, wouldn’t they? Anyone’s other half.

There was a knock, and her son Nathan put his head round the door.

‘You all right, Mum? You must be freezing in here.’

She nodded and waited and, once he’d closed the door again, she sat back to look at the bike for a while.

She wrapped her arms around herself, thinking that her husband had loved his stinky, stupidly noisy ‘hog’ almost as much as he’d loved her.

There was another smile, there and gone, when she thought that there probably hadn’t been very much in it and it was a good job she’d never actually asked him the question.

She’d forgotten to bring any tissues with her which was a bit stupid, but she was all over the place to be fair, and the gloves didn’t help much because they weren’t very absorbent, so in the end she stopped bothering to wipe the tears away.

Come on, love. Don’t be so daft . . .

She just sat there and wept and stared at what there was left of him.