At a quarter past eight on Monday morning, Felix opened the door of the flat and then turned.
‘Do you need any money?’
Nancy didn’t actually need any money. She had her Oyster card. And in the past few days, she had squirrelled away bits of cash in an inside zip pocket of her jacket. She had almost fifty pounds. She could make that last until she collected the debit card. But it might seem strange not to ask for anything at all.
‘I could do with some,’ she said. ‘I might need to buy something.’
Felix took his wallet from his jacket and extracted two notes. Nancy saw that they were both twenties. He looked at them and then put one back in his wallet and replaced it with a ten. He handed them to her. When she had taken the money and put it in her pocket, he continued to watch her. Was he waiting for her to say thank you? She couldn’t bear to. The idea made her almost physically sick.
‘Have a good day,’ she said.
Once he was gone, Nancy knew that there was no real hurry. It would be seven or even eight hours until he returned. But she felt almost superstitious about something going wrong. She pulled out a canvas bag from under the bed and quickly crammed it with everything she would need to get by for week or two. She wished she could take more but that would have needed several bags and she didn’t want to attract attention. Someone might get suspicious and tip Felix off.
She had thought about leaving without a word but then that would give Felix the excuse to call the police and get her into trouble again. Perhaps he would do that anyway. She picked up an old envelope and wrote on the back:
I’m going away. Don’t try to contact me. I’ll be in touch about collecting my stuff.
N
She placed it prominently in the middle of the table. She looked around. There was nothing left to do. She picked up the bag and walked out of the door.
She opened the door and stepped out onto the path where she almost collided with a woman coming in. She was carrying a large picture, half wrapped up in a bath towel. Nancy heard the woman say hello in a strange, almost surprised, tone. She knew the woman, but for a moment she couldn’t think where from.
‘What are you doing here?’ the woman asked.
The question was unexpected and, almost without thinking, Nancy replied that she lived in the upstairs flat. The woman looked baffled.
‘I don’t get it,’ she said. ‘I’m just moving in. How can you be here as well?’
‘I live upstairs.’ As Nancy said the words, she recognised the woman. She had met her during the viewing of the flat.
‘But if you already live here,’ the woman began, ‘what were you doing…?’
‘It’s complicated,’ Nancy said. ‘I needed to talk to the landlord.’
‘Well, anyway, I’m your neighbour now. My name’s Sadie.’
‘I’m Nancy.’ She looked at the eager, flustered face of the woman. ‘You’re renting the flat?’
Sadie grinned.
‘I hope so. I’ve paid the deposit. I got a bit worried when I saw your face. I wondered if there’d been some kind of mix-up.’
‘You’re moving in today?’ Nancy said, trying to change the subject.
‘That’s the plan. I haven’t got much stuff with me. I’ll bring the rest on the weekend.’ She seemed to be considering something. ‘Nancy, would you like to come in for a coffee?’
‘I’m really sorry,’ said Nancy. ‘I was just on my way out. I’m in a real hurry.’
‘Are you going away?’
She gestured to the bag Nancy was holding.
‘Yes, for a few days.’
‘Some other time then,’ said Sadie. ‘When you’re back.’
‘Yes. Some other time.’
Nancy heard the door close behind her. She walked a few cautious steps, half expecting someone to stop her . She was free.
Then she stopped. Something had struck her. She had met Sadie at the same spot she had met Kira. She tried to push it away, but the image of Sadie’s young, eager face kept coming into her mind. This woman was moving into the flat where Kira had died. Had been murdered.
Keep walking, Nancy told herself. Walk away. Sadie won’t be in any particular danger. There’s no reason why she should be. And anyway, this is no longer any business of yours. You got involved once before, you did what you thought was the right thing and it ended with you being in a mental hospital. If it happens again, they’ll put you away and you’ll probably never come out. Let someone else do the right thing.
She took another few steps and then stopped.
She thought of Kira asking her for help. She thought of Sadie, eager and friendly.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,’ she said.
An old woman approaching, looked at her, aghast. Nancy hadn’t realised that she’d spoken the words out loud.
‘Sorry,’ she said, but the woman shook her head disapprovingly.
Nancy hesitated. The bus stop was in the wrong direction and the bag was cumbersome. She went back into the house.
‘Hi again. I thought you were on your way out,’ said Sadie, who was struggling with her keys.
‘Forgot something,’ said Nancy.
She entered her own flat, left the bag by the door where she would collect it on her way back, and ran down the stairs and out onto the street.
It would be her one last act of defiance, before she was gone for good.