In the morning, the kitchen still stank of burned electrics and plastic. Jason, tired after an uneasy night of fitful sleep, sat in silence at the refectory table, reading the microwave instructions while eating his breakfast.
Behind him, Emily, a strip of sticking plaster across the two cuts on her cheek from flying glass, worked on emptying a packing case, thinking. She’d not said anything to Jason about the shadows she’d seen in the room last night, unsure now whether she had really seen them. Sky News was on, the sound low, but neither of them, immersed in their thoughts, looked at the television screen.
‘All I did was put the crumble in the oven, in a microwavable glass bowl, with clingfilm – which I’d pierced – covering it,’ Emily said.
‘The machine’s obviously faulty. They’ll replace it under warranty, for sure.’
‘I’m not sure I want another – at least not from that company. They’ll have to do a pretty good job convincing me a replacement won’t do the same thing. I’ll bring my catering one in from the garage in the meantime.’
‘I had a look online,’ Jason said. ‘I can’t find any other instances of something like that happening – other than idiots putting ridiculous things in, deliberately – and that—’ He broke off in mid-sentence, distracted. ‘Bloody hell!’
‘What?’
‘I don’t believe what I’m seeing!’
‘Seeing what?’
Jason pointed out the front window.
Emily looked, not seeing anything. ‘What?’
He pointed again. ‘Across the road! She looks like she’s dressed for a polar expedition!’
Emily peered out and finally saw the woman standing outside her open front door, as a driverless, boxy little purple car reversed out of the double garage and around to the door, stopping in front of her.
‘Gosh, that must be one of those self-park cars. How nice, wouldn’t mind one of those!’ she said.
Moments later a rather meek-looking man in an anorak, carrying a shopping bag, hurried out the front door. He climbed into the passenger seat of the little car as the woman got behind the wheel and they drove off.
‘They look fun, our neighbours!’ Jason said.
‘Fun – not! We must go over later and tell them how much we love their Christmas decorations,’ Emily replied, mischievously.
‘And perhaps get invited in for a lovely glass of lukewarm Liebfraumilch.’
‘You really think they’d be that classy?’
‘Now now, don’t be a snob, Em. I’m sure they’d be classier than that. Lidl’s rosé at least.’
Santa was still rocking away in his grotto, but at least, in the bright morning sunlight, they couldn’t see his flashing eyes.
‘Oh look!’ Emily pulled out a large, embossed album from the packing case. ‘Our wedding album! Where shall we put it?’
‘Let’s see.’
She handed it to him. On the front, against the plain grey background, was a picture of himself and Emily. She was radiant in a cream dress and a sparkly tiara, and he was beaming, in a white shirt, black suit and a buttonhole matching her bouquet of red gerberas. Alongside them were their bridesmaids and his best man.
‘Can’t believe it was six years ago next July!’
‘Me neither!’ she kissed him. ‘It’s not been totally shit, has it?’
Jason screwed up his face. ‘Nah, not totally.’ He gave her an impish smile. ‘There’ve been some good moments . . .’
‘Just a few . . .’
He stood up and embraced her, holding her tight. ‘Every second has been amazing. I love you to bits.’
‘I love you to bits, too.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘As soon as we get straight, can we get a puppy?’
He frowned. ‘I’d rather a cat, they’re cleaner.’ He patted her tummy. ‘Maybe we’ll soon be having some of our own kittens, finally?’
‘I’d like three. Ideally, two boys and a girl?’
‘Two boys – that’s what royalty call an heir and a spare.’
‘That’s horrible!’
‘Joke.’
‘Not a funny one.’ She gently unwound his arms and stepped away. ‘So, plan for today?’
‘Make love?’ he suggested.
‘We’ll fit that in. First we need to find a garden centre and buy a Christmas tree and then stop by the pub and village store.’
‘And then make love?’ He put his arms around her.
She shook her head, giving him a quizzical look. ‘Why can I never be angry at you for long?’
‘Because you fancy me too much.’
She flicked two fingers at him then turned back to the packing case. As she continued removing stuff, he returned to his breakfast, putting the microwave instructions to one side and flipping through pages of the album as he ate. ‘God, it was such an amazing day!’
‘It was.’
‘Tom and Marianne are coming over some time this afternoon, if that’s OK?’ he said. ‘They’re dying to see the place.’ Tom Bedford, a fellow painter whose career was really taking off, was his best friend, and Emily got on really well with both him and his wife.
‘That’s fine. Louise is coming around four to help me get the work kitchen straight, and we have to go through the menu for the anniversary event and make sure we have everything we need for it, this side of Christmas. How’s Tom and Marianne’s little boy getting on – Kit?’
‘Just had his fourth birthday.’ Jason finished his porridge and put the bowl in the dishwasher. He went to the window and looked at the little house across the road, where last night he had seen, for the second time, the couple with the young children in the upstairs window. There was no sign of life. And he noticed, for the first time, the blue developers’ sign by the front door, with writing so large he could read it from here.
SQUIRREL’S NEST. 34 LAKEVIEW DRIVE.
FOR SALE.
So, who, he wondered, had he seen in the window yesterday? The new potential buyers?
He hoped so. They seemed friendly.