I was making lunch when I heard the doorbell. I took the pasta sauce off the heat and heard Nancy talking animatedly to a woman.
As I came to the dining room I saw the woman push past her roughly and go into the parlour.
Protesting with indignation, Nancy followed her, grabbed her by her jacket and was trying to pull her out of the room.
The struggling woman was in her twenties, fair hair in a high ponytail, smudged eyeshadow, a backpack slung over one shoulder.
She struggled free and as she saw me, she swore.
‘She’s got my money,’ she spat, pointing at Nancy. ‘She was keeping it for me and now she won’t give it me back.’
Nancy lashed out at her with a tight fist and the girl ducked out of reach.
‘It was in that bag there!’ The girl was pointing at the Burberry bag with the holy medals and rosaries. ‘She’s been keeping it for me!’
‘Keeping it for you?’ Nancy said scornfully, trying to duck under the barrier of my arm. ‘Get out!’
I grabbed Nancy’s house phone and waved it at the girl. ‘I’m calling the police.’
‘Good, call them, because she stole the money she was keeping for me, two hundred quid.’
I didn’t believe her, but just the same, I didn’t make the call.
What if she had left money with Nancy? No, I didn’t believe her.
‘It’s all up there on film,’ she said, going into the hall and stabbing her finger at the camera. ‘You assaulting me and stealing my money, you crazy old bag!’
I opened the front door, letting the daylight stream in, and as soon as Nancy had pushed her outside I slammed it shut.
There was a loud thud as she gave the door a kick and it all went quiet.
My heart was beating wildly and I was shaking with adrenaline. ‘Are you all right, Nancy?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, thoroughly energised by the encounter. She smiled sweetly at me and once again I didn’t notice the teeth that were there, but the ones that were missing.
I could smell the pasta sauce and I went back to the kitchen to finish making lunch.
Nancy followed me, suddenly anxious as she looked up at my face to read my expression.
‘You’re quiet. Are you cross? What’s happening?’
‘We’re going to have lunch in a minute.’ I smiled, and forced myself to relax. ‘Spaghetti Bolognese.’
‘But what’s happening? Are you vexed?’
‘No, not at all.’ She followed me as I laid the table using fresh table linen and put the napkins into silver napkin rings. To change the subject I said, ‘Do you remember, you used to do this for Jack when he was twelve? You used to serve him food and drinks at regular intervals to nourish and sustain him.’
‘Yes I do! Where is the boy now?’ she asked.
‘He’s a man, and he’s at work.’ I put the food on the table and we sat down. I spread my napkin across my knee. ‘How did you feel when Jack came to live with you after Penelope died? Was it nice to have a child in the house?’
When I looked up she had her veined hand pressed against her mouth. She whimpered softly.
‘I’m sorry, Nancy, I shouldn’t have asked.’
She shook her head despairingly, her eyes reddening. ‘That little boy,’ she said. ‘There was absolutely nothing that we could put right for him. All hope was gone.’
‘The hope of his parents getting back together again, you mean?’
She nodded.
I couldn’t think of anything to say to cheer her up so we ate in silence.
My thoughts kept coming back to Jack, and I wasn’t sure what to do about our latest visitor.
How much of a coincidence was it that Shane had turned up while I was out and the girl while I was in the kitchen? Were they keeping an eye on the place? Yes, paranoia was setting in.
She’s vulnerable.
While these gloomy thoughts were going through my mind, Nancy’s mood had cleared like mist in the sunshine.
‘Dig in,’ she encouraged me happily through a mouthful of pasta, ‘before it gets cold.’