front garden, most of which was taken up with spilled-open bin bags and stained carpet, Tony said in disbelief, ‘There are syringes lying in the mud.’
‘I know.’ Ellie’s neck prickled again, as ashamed as if she’d thrown them there herself. How must this compare with his multimillion dollar palace in the Hollywood Hills?
‘Ellie.’ His tone changed. ‘In God’s name, why didn’t you tell me it was like this?’
She shrugged, unable to explain. On the scale of misery, losing Jamie had been a ten. Compared with that, having to tolerate undesirable neighbors had barely scraped a two. And if that made her sound ridiculous, well, too bad. ‘You get used to it. It’s just noise.’ To distract herself, she had got into the habit of conjuring up Jamie and having a chat with him instead. It was just a question of tuning out the rest, the yelling, the door-slamming, the incessant Celine Dion.
‘There are used syringes in your front garden. This flat should carry a government health warning. You can’t stay here.’
‘Fook off, ya gobshite, that’s me last can!’
Ellie pressed her lips together. She knew he was right. And if she was a friend she’d be telling herself exactly the same thing. But what Tony didn’t understand was that this was where she and Jamie had lived together. They had found the flat, moved into it as ridiculously happy newlyweds, loved and laughed, and had the best time here for over three years. The rooms were filled with memories and she didn’t know if she could bear to leave them behind…
‘OK, I’m not completely stupid.’ Tony’s voice softened as her eyes filled with tears. ‘This is about Jamie, isn’t it?’
Her throat had constricted. ‘Yes.’ Embarrassingly it came out as a high-pitched squeak.
‘So the flat didn’t used to be like this. But it is now.’
She nodded.
‘You know what I’m going to say next, don’t you?’
Wearily, she nodded again. ‘Probably.’
‘If Jamie could see this place now, he’d be horrified.’ Tony’s manner was gentle but firm. ‘He’d want you out of here.’
‘Owwwww, ya bastard, I’ll fookin’ get you for that!’ There was a roar, a crash, and a shower of glass rained past the window, along with a spraying, somersaulting can of lager.
‘He’d want you safe,’ said Tony. Tilting his face up to the ceiling he added drily, ‘Although your neighbors have timing, I’ll give them that.’
***
Was this another reason she’d done her best to hide the situation from Jamie’s father?
Three days after their lunch at the Ivy, Ellie found herself standing outside an imposing Victorian end-of-terrace property on Nevis Street, just off Regents Park Road, in the heart of Primrose Hill village. The outside of the house was painted palest yellow, the sash windows were framed in white gloss, and the front garden was small but well-tended, without a manky discarded carpet in sight.
This was what you called a Seriously Nice Area.
‘Well?’ Tony stood next to her. ‘What do you think?’
‘Honestly? I feel sick. I can’t believe you’re doing this.’
‘Listen, I’m not doing it for you. It’s a sound financial investment. Every time I come over to the UK, I stay in a hotel. It’s a very nice hotel, but it isn’t home.’ Indicating the building in front of them, he said, ‘I need a pied-à-terre, and this looks pretty good to me. But if it’s going to be standing empty most of the time, my insurance premiums will shoot up. And I’ll spend all my time worrying about squatters. Whereas if I have someone living in the place, keeping an eye on things, I won’t have anything to worry about. Makes sense to me.’
The estate agent arrived and let them into the flat, situated on the first floor like the one Ellie had lived in for the last four years but otherwise different in every conceivable way. There were two good-sized bedrooms, each with a bathroom en suite. There was also a small third bathroom, a huge airy living room, and an ultra-modern kitchen. It was like something out of a glossy magazine. Everything was clean and dry, freshly painted, and sweet-smelling. Immaculate.
‘No mold,’ Tony pointed out. ‘No damp. No Celine Dion.’
‘Just as she was starting to grow on me,’ said Ellie.
‘Do you like it?’
‘Of course I like it.’ What was there to dislike? She shoved her hands into the pockets of her red jacket to hide the fact that they were trembling.
‘Could we have a moment?’ Tony waited until the estate agent had left them alone. ‘Sweetheart, now listen to me.