The Apartment - K. L. Slater Page 0,66

‘I don’t get it.’

‘That’s obviously the name of the woman who was here. Sophie Taylor and her daughter, Melissa.’

‘I see where you’re coming from,’ Brenna says slowly, handing me the letter back. ‘But opticians do get people’s details wrong all the time. Still, you need to get this sorted once and for all. Let’s have another glass of wine when I’ve completed my aunt duties and we’ll come up with a plan.’

Brenna gets up to read Skye her story and I sit alone in the silence of the lounge. Nobody seems to think this is a problem except me. And Mark.

Mark seemed to understand.

I read somewhere that moving house was in the top ten most stressful life events.

Maybe that’s it; I’m just feeling the stress. Placing more importance and relevance on various things than I would’ve done back in my old house.

I don’t know whether that’s the truth of it, but I guess I’m willing to keep an open mind. Everything here is new and strange and I so want it to work out, maybe I’m just on high alert watching for anything that could potentially cause a problem.

‘Oh!’ I jump up, spilling the last drops of my wine when a loud buzzing noise sounds close to me. I look around wildly at the windows but can’t spot any more flies.

There it is again . . . a definite buzzing noise!

I look down and see Brenna’s phone moving slightly, half-covered by a cushion.

I dash to pick it up in case it’s Viv, but when I look at the screen, I see it isn’t Viv at all.

The name on the screen reads: Audrey Marsden.

Fifteen minutes later, Brenna is back from her bedtime story. ‘Your phone rang,’ I say.

My throat is so tight I’m surprised the words manage to get out at all.

‘I meant to turn the damn thing off.’ She picks it up and taps the screen, viewing the details of her missed call. Her face doesn’t change, doesn’t even miss a beat. ‘It’s nothing that can’t wait,’ she says simply. ‘Now, where were we?’

But I don’t want to talk to Brenna about my problems now. I want to talk about why Audrey Marsden has her number.

‘I saw who it was, Bren,’ I say, hearing a little tremor in my voice. ‘It was Audrey Marsden calling.’

Her face and body freeze. Her expression and posture stay the same for a couple of seconds until she deflates.

‘It’s nothing, honestly . . . not what you think, anyway.’

‘What should I think?’ I bite down on my tongue. ‘You know Audrey?’

‘I know her now,’ Brenna says easily, but her face is turning a telling shade of scarlet. ‘I didn’t know her before you moved in here.’

‘I’m sorry, Bren, but something isn’t quite adding up. You’ve made no secret of the fact you can’t stand Audrey, so why the hell is she calling you?’

Brenna sighs. ‘It’s only the second time she’s rung. The first time it was to ask me to keep an eye on you because you seemed very stressed. I don’t know why she’s called this time.’

If she’s telling the truth, Audrey might be ringing regarding our conversation about the previous tenants.

‘But why wouldn’t you tell me she called you?’

Brenna’s hands wave in front of her. ‘She asked me not to, and I didn’t see the harm in keeping it to myself, really, with you being stressed out and all. She seemed genuinely concerned and said they wanted you to feel safe and happy here.’

Something twists inside me. I’m not a ten-year-old child who needs an adult to supervise me. Both Audrey and Brenna obviously think me incapable of withstanding difficulties without their assistance.

‘I’m really tired,’ I say quietly, and Brenna stands up a bit too willingly.

‘Hey, no worries, I’ll get going. I know how much you’ve got on right now.’ Courtesy of Audrey Marsden, I think, a little spitefully.

She slips her phone into her jeans. Then she picks up our empty wine glasses and takes them into the kitchen. I follow her.

‘I’ll speak to Viv and sort out a date for you and Skye to come over. We’re well overdue for one of her Hungarian goulash feeds.’

She wants to pretend this never happened but I still feel peeved, so I don’t say anything.

In the hallway, I pop my head around Skye’s door. She’s supposed to be asleep now but she’s sitting up in bed with her lamp on, looking at a picture book.

‘Just seeing Aunt Brenna out. Be back in two minutes.’

She nods,