I had my tea to alleviate my dry mouth.
‘It’s just . . . well, there’s a builder working on a house a few doors away.’ I nod in the direction of the road. ‘He told me that . . . he said . . .’
‘Go on,’ Dr Marsden says softly. He places his elbows on his knees and leans forward. His hair is mainly grey but odd patches are darker, a glimpse of the sandy brown colour he must have been when younger. ‘What did the builder out there tell you?’
The way he says it makes me feel like I’m a fool for even listening to Mark.
But Mark had seemed so concerned. I’ve just met him but he just doesn’t seem the type to enjoy peddling malicious gossip for the sake of it. And he’d even told me when his foreman was back, if I wanted to find out more.
I feel a conviction again. I want to know, I have a right to know.
‘He told me there was a young woman living here, about eight months ago. And that . . .’ I hesitate. I’m not sure how to say it, and yet I know there’s only one way and that’s to just come out with it. ‘She had a small daughter and she killed herself. He said it happened here, at Adder House.’
The way the words came out like that feels more like I’ve phrased an accusation rather than a question. It hangs in the air, suspended above my head like an axe.
He doesn’t react.
I can feel heat collect in my face and I press my hands into my thighs to still my twisting fingers.
I think we’re going to have to leave Adder House. We can’t stay here if it’s unsafe.
We’ll have to move back to a tiny bedsit even further out of London than Acton that costs double the rent of this place and Lewis’s life-insurance money will run out in half the time. Skye will have even more massive upheaval and another change of school . . . and I won’t even have Brenna nearby when I have a full-time job to support us.
I’ll have failed myself and my daughter yet again.
26
After what seems like an age, Dr Marsden finally speaks.
‘My goodness.’ His bushy dark-grey eyebrows meet in the middle. ‘That must have been quite a shock for you to hear. That’s not good, not good at all.’
In the face of his calm reaction I feel myself relax just a touch. Could it be that Mark might have been mistaken after all?
‘I should have perhaps mentioned there was indeed an incident late last year. Very tragic it was. Tragic.’ He looks towards the window, his forehead creasing. ‘But it didn’t happen here at the house, my dear. And they weren’t staying in your apartment.’
‘Oh!’ I’m unprepared for the wash of relief that comes with his words, and yet, the situation is still very unclear. ‘Did . . . did they both die?’
‘There was a tragic accident. We were all very shocked here.’ His fingers drum the arm of the sofa and he shakes his head. ‘It was a very sad business indeed.’
He hasn’t answered my question.
Had their deaths left a vacancy at Adder House which Skye and I have now filled?
Even if we are in a different apartment, the very thought of it makes my flesh crawl.
I remember when I first met him at the coffee shop, he said someone had let him down so he was trying to fill the vacancy again. Surely he hadn’t meant someone had died!
‘What . . . what happened?’ I ask him.
‘Here we are, here’s the tea!’ Audrey announces brightly, walking in with a stacked tray. Skye bobs around behind her, scooting to sit next to me once she can overtake her.
I feel a bit out of breath. Shocked. But Dr Marsden smiles widely at his wife as if what we just spoke about means nothing at all.
‘Audrey told me a secret, Mummy.’ Skye’s face is alight with excitement.
‘That’s nice of her.’ My voice sounds flat, and my daughter’s excitement immediately dampens a little.
I can’t move past the fact that Mark was telling the truth after all. Dr Marsden is trying to talk around the terrible incident, but I can’t just leave it hanging there, unresolved.
If there’s nothing to hide, why didn’t he just tell me exactly what happened instead of talking around it?
A vintage Royal Albert teacup and saucer appears in front of my face and I look up to