Chapter 43

I stretch out my arms and, facing her, place both palms flat either side of the door. I can tell from her face I seem like a crazy person. But I can’t stop it.

She takes a step back, her smile falling away.

PC Storer turns quickly from the window at the commotion and moves towards us.

‘Everything okay, Anna?’ he asks mildly, like I’m a loaded gun that might go off any second.

I blink a couple of times, trying to get my thoughts together.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say with a nervous laugh. ‘It’s just that the toilet isn’t working properly. It’s broken, you see.’ The skin on my face feels taut and stretched as if it might split with the effort of keeping my secrets in. ‘I haven’t got a body up there or anything.’

I giggle, trying to make light of the situation but they eye me suspiciously.

‘I see,’ PC Cullen says, turning to look at her colleague. ‘We didn’t mean to alarm you, Anna, I had no hidden agenda in going upstairs.’

‘I know,’ I say quickly, realising how ridiculous I must look. I allow my damp hands to fall away from the door and relax my rigid stance the best I can. ‘It’s just a bit – well, embarrassing, that’s all. It’s stinky up there at the moment.’

PC Storer nods slowly. ‘Have you called a plumber?’

‘Yes,’ I say. Then, ‘I mean no, I haven’t called a plumber yet. I was just about to do that when you arrived.’

My shoulders relax a little as PC Cullen turns away from the stairs door but then she walks towards the kitchen.

‘We’ll leave you to it then,’ she says, brushing down her uniform.

I feel like running past her and standing in front of the bin bags on the kitchen floor but, somehow, I manage to control myself.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, following them out. ‘About the loo, I mean.’

‘No worries,’ PC Cullen shrugs. ‘We’re going back to the station now, anyway, it won’t kill me to hold on.’

PC Storer peers into the incinerator as they step outside, pausing for just a moment.

‘You’d be better off with a shredder,’ he remarks.

‘Sorry?’

‘The paperwork,’ he says, nodding down into the ashes. ‘Probably less mess to shred it than burn it.’

‘Right you are,’ I bristle.

Mind your own fucking business.

I watch them drive away before locking the gates top and bottom and going back into the house. I lock the kitchen door behind me and lean heavily against it.

The bottom of my back is wet; my heart is pounding.

I say a silent prayer of thanks they’ve finally gone.