It was Ben, of course. It’s always Ben. I’ve seen him everywhere in the five years since the train crash. He’d be a customer walking out of the supermarket, or someone on the opposite side of the street. It was always half glimpses, or sideways stares, never anything firm. I looked it up on the internet and the pseudoscientists and blogger therapists all say it’s normal after a trauma. Ben’s in my mind again after I dumped my life story on poor Harry. His debt became my debt – and that became my life.
‘Are you okay?’
I turn back to Quinn, but both boys are now staring up at me with puzzled expressions.
‘Of course,’ I say, ‘let’s get back home.’
I risk another quick glimpse towards the wolf – but he’s no longer in the alcove and the only other people at that end of the street are the Star Wars parents with their weary kids.
Billy is flagging – he’s not used to all this late-night walking – and I have to carry him up the stairs of Hamilton House until we’re on our floor. I take the boys past my apartment to Karen’s and then use the spare key to let them in. Quinn shoots straight off to the bathroom as Tyler starts trying to pick the rest of the twigs from his costume. Billy wanders around, confused at why we’re in the wrong flat. I’m about to flick on the kettle when the front door creaks and pops open, to reveal an out-of-breath Karen.
‘You’re back,’ I say, apparently unable to do anything other than state the obvious.
Karen unbuttons her coat and bats Tyler away from taking up the entire sofa before flopping onto it herself. She thanks me for looking after the boys and then Tyler pours his entire haul of sweets onto the floor to show her the type of night he’s had. Quinn returns and does the same and then they start trading back and forth. It’s a bit like the stock exchange, but with less childishness.
Probably unsurprisingly, Karen leaves them to it and joins me in the kitchen.
‘How was your evening?’ I ask.
She looks towards the boys and says ‘Fine,’ seemingly unwilling to say much more about it. ‘How was yours?’ she adds.
‘Not bad. Tyler had to keep telling people he was Groot and not a random tree – but good other than that.’
We watch them for a moment and then I remember the other thing I spent money on. I dig into to my bag and take out the pair of £50 gift cards.
‘I got these for the boys,’ I tell Karen as I pass them to her. ‘I didn’t want to give them over tonight without checking with you.’
Karen twists the cards around and squints to read the words on the back. The children will be able to upload the credit to their phones and use it to buy games, apps, music, or whatever.
‘It’s so much money,’ Karen whispers.
I hold my hands up to say it’s fine and she bats away a yawn, before apologising. Her eyelids are sagging and she looks ready for bed.
‘You shouldn’t have,’ she adds. ‘It’s too much.’
She doesn’t need to say it because I can practically hear her thoughts. This is money I’d usually need for rent, food and to get around. One hundred pounds is more than I can afford. Strangely, when I saw the cards near the till at the shopping centre, it hadn’t crossed my mind that I’d have to justify buying them.
‘I won a bit of money on a scratch card,’ I say, surprising myself at the ease of the lie.
Karen’s eyes widen. ‘You lucky cow!’ She leans in and lowers her voice: ‘How much?’
I shrug non-committedly. She can read into it what she wants, but my lies are already piling up.
‘Bloody hell,’ she mutters. ‘Well, if anyone deserves it, it’s you. I hope you spend the rest on yourself.’
I smile wanly, not sure what to say.
‘How are the party plans going?’ I ask, hoping she doesn’t notice the obvious segue.
Karen’s features brighten. ‘Good. The boys are off to their dad’s for a bonfire, plus everything else is all booked. Just got to hope people turn up.’
‘I’m sure they will.’
She yawns again, which I take as my hint to go. I leave my tea largely unfinished on the counter and she leads me to the door. Billy trudges behind, also ready for bed, as I say goodnight to the boys. They’re more concerned with hedging whether two mini Bounty bars are worth a single Snickers, with Quinn insisting that ‘nobody likes Bounties’.
It feels dark as I head into the corridor, something I seemingly missed when I was rushing inside with a toilet-bound Quinn. Karen notices it too and we take a moment to realise the light in the corner is out.
‘I don’t think it was like that yesterday,’ Karen says as she leans on her door frame. ‘I’ll text Lauren.’
We share a look because we know how efficient our building manager is. Late rent: Lauren will be on it within minutes. Anything needing fixing will take a full assessment and tendering process that means it’ll be lucky to get done within a month.
Karen pulls the door until it’s almost closed behind her. ‘Thanks for having the boys,’ she says, before taking a big breath. She bites her lip and it’s obvious there’s something there.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I ask.
She opens her mouth and there’s a moment in which I think the reason for her Sunday disappearances is going to come out. Instead, she yawns once more, covering her mouth with her hand.
‘Sorry,’ she says, though I’m not sure if the apology is for the yawn. ‘I hope you enjoy the money.’
I crane my neck, taken aback, before realising she means the fantasy scratch card win. ‘Thank you,’ I reply.
She gives a little wave and then disappears back into the apartment.
It’s only a few steps to my flat, but Billy is ahead of me, waiting outside the door and peering back over his shoulder to see where I am.
‘I’m right here,’ I tell him as I creak across the floorboards.
Billy turns back and then pushes his way into the apartment. I almost do the same before I realise what’s wrong.
I never unlocked the door.
I stop and turn to look around the empty hallway. The corner near Karen’s is shrouded with darkness, but the rest of the space is filled with the dim orangey glow from the cheap bulbs. I push into my own apartment and stop to take in the room.
Billy is twisting himself in circles as he pads down the blanket in his bed. He does this every night, even though he ends up sleeping on my bed.
I hurry to the other side of the room and pull the bed down from the wall. I’m barely thinking and the hinge catches on the wall, wrenching backwards so violently that I feel a snap in my shoulder. All that does is make me heave harder until the foldaway bed pops out from the wall and crashes into the floor with a whump. The stabbing pain in my chest is such that I pat a hand to my top, fully expecting there to be blood. There’s not, but I’m gasping for breath as I slip my hands underneath the mattress.
The money has gone.
Chapter Twelve
I almost took the envelope of money out with me when picking up the boys – but thought it would be safer here. How could I have been so stupid?
I stand, turning in a circle, before noticing that the front door is still open. I dash across the room and slam it closed and then stand to take in the room. Aside from the sheets that have tumbled from the bed, everything else is in place. It’s easy to say that because I have so little. I check the drawer underneath the television, but my brand-new laptop is still there. The old, unresponsive, one is there, too. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out.