For a moment she remained quite still, staring around her. Then she realised that she was standing in the space where Kira’s body had hung, a few feet above the ground. She looked up. A steel girder ran the length of the room. A wind chime still hung from one end, near the window. Nancy took several steps further into the room.
It was cold. The heating had been turned off and the window was open. The living room was similar to the one in her and Felix’s flat, and it gave on to a tiny galley kitchen. From there, a door led out onto the flat’s scrap of neglected garden that was shared with the residents of the basement flat. There were two doors on the left – presumably to the bedroom and bathroom. The furniture was basic: a small pine table with a burn mark in the middle, a dark grey bench-like sofa and a dark grey wing-armed chair, a stool, a threadbare rug. Everything belonging to Kira had been removed, presumably by her family.
Nancy advanced into the centre of the room. She didn’t know why she was here or what she was looking for. Olga’s words were like an itch in her brain. She stepped towards the tiny kitchen, a replica of theirs. She saw that the women hadn’t cleaned the oven, and they hadn’t mopped the floor properly or wiped down the windowsills. Mugs were stacked on the draining board.
She heard a sound. The scraping of a key and the main door being opened, feet on the boards. Voices in the hall outside, as clear as if the partition wall was made of card.
‘Thank you. I’m just going to pop in on the new people upstairs.’ It was Michelle talking. ‘The woman’s not in a very good way, I’m afraid. I mean, in her mind.’
Michelle was talking about her.
A male grunt of assent.
‘What a terrible thing to happen in your property,’ Michelle continued. ‘When are you letting out the room again?’
The landlord, Nancy realised. William Goddard. She looked around desperately.
‘Not long,’ he said. ‘The family are coming down in a few days to take the last of her stuff. I wish they’d get a move on.’
‘If you’re going in there, can I come and get a dish I lent to Kira?’
Nancy froze. She could see herself in the large mirror on the opposite wall, small and furtive, her pale brown hair piled up in a crazy mess, her eyes full of fear and guilt. She took a few steps towards one of the doors and yanked it open. It was Kira’s bedroom. There was a shabby patchwork quilt thrown across the bed. Was she actually going to hide? She was doing nothing wrong after all, except being a bit nosy. But even as she thought this, she was very softly closing the door, pulling it fast with a soft but definite click.
‘The door’s open,’ said Goddard. ‘Bloody cleaners.’
‘Did you hear something?’ Michelle sounded suspicious and she also sounded horribly close. They must be inside the flat now, standing a few feet from where Nancy was cowering. ‘Perhaps they’re still here. The flat doesn’t look like it’s been deep-cleaned to me.’
‘No, they left. No one’s here.’
‘I’m sure I heard a door shutting.’
Nancy, standing by the window, thought of hunkering down beside the bed, or even stepping into the wardrobe. But she wasn’t a burglar, and if they discovered her like that then it would look infinitely worse, so instead she took a deep breath, walked across the room and opened the door. Better to reveal herself than to be discovered.
‘It’s only me,’ she said brightly.
The two faces stared at her.
‘Nancy?’ Michelle sounded as though she wasn’t sure if Nancy was actually real.
‘Hi, Michelle,’ said Nancy, trying to sound casual and friendly. ‘How are you?’
‘What are you doing in Kira’s flat?’
‘Yes, what are you doing?’ asked Goddard, who was very bald and very solid, and whose face wore an unfriendly expression.
‘The door was open,’ explained Nancy brightly. ‘I thought I’d have a look inside.’
‘You were in her bedroom.’
Nancy didn’t reply to this since it was self-evidently true.
‘This is private property,’ said the landlord, who didn’t seem quite sure how angry he should be about this.
‘She won’t do it again,’ said Michelle, as if Nancy was her private property.
‘I was just curious,’ said Nancy. She was still speaking in a cheerful tone that didn’t at all suit the situation, but she couldn’t find another. Her cheeks were burning and her legs shaking.
‘She’s not well,’ Michelle said to Goddard, and she gripped Nancy by the upper arm.
‘I’m perfectly well.’
‘Come along.’
‘What?’
‘We’re leaving. Shall we have coffee in your flat?’
‘I’ve got work to do,’ said Nancy as Michelle hustled her out of Kira’s flat.
‘Really? It didn’t seem to stop you from snooping.’
‘I wasn’t snooping.’
‘Do you have any idea what William Goddard is like?’
‘No.’
Michelle went up the stairs and Nancy followed her. At the door of Nancy’s flat, Michelle said, ‘You don’t want to get on the wrong side of him, Nancy. He’s already had a run-in with Seamus and Barney this year and they didn’t come out on top.’
‘What happened?’
‘That’s not the point.’
‘It’s a bit messy,’ said Nancy, unlocking the door and stepping inside.
She took off her thick coat, cleared some of Felix’s papers away from the sofa to make space for Michelle. A shiny brochure slid out from among them and she found herself looking at a picture of a tiny red-brick house surrounded by trees. She stared at it disbelievingly, then pushed it away. She would deal with that later.
‘That’s okay,’ said Michelle. ‘Dylan’s rather untidy too. He used to be much tidier when he worked; the more time he has, the untidier he gets.’
‘Is he retired?’
It was strange to be exchanging small talk just after Michelle had discovered her snooping – and snooping was definitely the right description – in Kira’s flat.
‘He doesn’t like that word. He says he is thinking about the next stage. But essentially, yes. It wasn’t really his choice. He was in hotel management, and you might have noticed that the hospitality business is having a tough time.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Nancy said dutifully.
Michelle shrugged. ‘Lots of people are going through difficult times. It’s the young people I feel sorry for.’
‘You want some coffee?’
‘Not really.’
‘But you asked…’
‘What were you doing in there, Nancy?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Nancy. ‘I just saw the open door and went in. It wasn’t planned.’
‘What were you looking for?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You were in Kira’s bedroom.’
‘Why are you so bothered about it?’
‘We’re concerned about you.’
‘We?’
‘Dylan and me.’
‘Don’t be.’
‘You’re our neighbour and you are new to the area; you’ve seen a terrible thing; you’re obviously having a hard time.’
‘Not at all,’ said Nancy. She felt furious, even though Michelle was looking at her with sympathy.
‘You can talk to me,’ said Michelle. ‘I know you’re angry with Felix for telling me about your problems and for asking me to keep an eye out.’
‘He shouldn’t have done it.’
‘I agree,’ said Michelle. ‘And I’m sorry.’
‘Thanks,’ said Nancy gracelessly. She chewed her lower lip. ‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m not sure about Kira’s death. That’s the reason I was in her room.’
Michelle briefly closed her eyes.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘She offered to babysit.’
‘And?’
‘She said it to Olga the day before she died. Isn’t that strange?’
‘I don’t know. Is it?’ She paused and then her tone became more urgent. ‘What are you actually saying? That Kira didn’t take her own life? What does that mean?’
‘I know,’ said Nancy, picking at the sleeve of her jumper and looking away from Michelle’s gaze. ‘I understand that it sounds ridiculous.’
‘It sounds,’ said Michelle carefully, ‘as if you are still in quite a fragile state and you need to be very, very careful about saying things like that. What if Kira’s family heard?’
‘Do you think I’m just making it all up?’
Michelle put a hand on Nancy’s arm.
‘Nancy, I have no idea why Kira did what she did, poor girl, and probably no one will ever know that. But you need to let go of your notion that there’s a sinister mystery about it. Take a step back. Try and have some insight into what’s going on in your head. Don’t make something painful even more so; don’t go believing that only you can see the truth.’
‘You’re probably right,’ said Nancy slowly, hating the pity in Michelle’s voice and the way she was looking at her, as if she could see all the mess and dread coiled up inside.
‘Is there a but?’
‘But what if you’re not?’