‘I’m not buying that. Not even at work? There must be someone.’
‘There’s some nice guys, I guess, just no one I fancy. Same old story,’ said Sinead.
‘Nothing wrong with nice guys. I’ve got no complaints. I keep telling you, get on Tinder.’
‘No thanks. Too many losers sending you their dick pics.’
‘What’s wrong with that? Who doesn’t love a good dick pic?’
‘Call me old-fashioned, but I’d like a bit of romance before he pings his cock over to my phone.’
Heidi laughed, and Sinead remembered how much they all used to laugh together when they were younger, before all the problems of adulthood began.
‘Anyway, what’s the point of dating?’ said Sinead. ‘All the good ones are taken.’
Heidi stopped laughing. Her amused expression changed to something more challenging. ‘Is that why you left then?’ She was staring straight at Sinead. ‘Because Joel’s taken?’
‘Yeah right, Joel.’ Sinead said his name with an affected disdain. ‘That’s why I left.’ She was under attack and could feel the anger bursting up inside her. ‘Why – why would you even ask me that?’
‘I know you like him.’
‘No I don’t. He’s just a mate.’
‘Come on! I’ve seen the way you look at him. We all have.’
‘Oh have you? That’s nice. You’re all so observant, aren’t you?’ Sinead glared at her. This was not up for discussion.
‘Okay, okay. Whatever. Sorry. My mistake.’ Heidi attended to her phone. Sinead fidgeted with a beer mat. Heidi with that judgemental tone; whose side was she on, anyway? An uncomfortable silence continued for a few minutes until Sinead got up to buy another round of drinks.
***
Later on, as Sinead lay in bed, the evening played on her mind incessantly. The subject of Joel didn’t recur, but their conversation had become strained. Sinead attempted to lighten the mood with stories of things that happened at work, but it was all a bit forced. Heidi had made fast work of her next glass of wine and had then given her excuses – something about a 9am meeting she had to prepare for. It was bullshit; Heidi hadn’t prepared for anything her whole life. But Magz never showed up so the night was dead in the water anyway, and Sinead said she should probably get the next train back to Beckenham.
She lay awake, mulling it over and making herself feel worse. The intrusive thoughts were looping round and round in her head. Heidi hadn’t wanted to say goodbye on Saturday, and she couldn’t wait to leave the pub tonight. I can’t believe she ambushed me like that. She probably only came out to confront me about Joel. Did Imogen put her up to it? How long had Heidi known? I never said a word about him. My friends all hate me; they couldn’t wait for me to move out. They’re all back at the house, laughing at me. You stupid bitch, Sinead, with your mood swings and your dead mum. Why don’t you just fuck off–
Shut up. Shut up!
Sinead clasped a pillow around her head and rolled onto her side. The bedside clock read 00.43. She focused on the moonlight in the crack between the curtains. Trying to calm down, she told herself to get some sleep. Only she knew full well the self-torture would last another two or three hours, because it always did. The demons came at night. Ever since she had been a teenager, she’d suffered from chronic insomnia. Bouts of it would come and go, but sometimes it lasted weeks.
There was no cure except sleeping pills, but when she was twelve she’d sworn never to take them after she’d witnessed her mum’s accidental overdose, the accidental part always being in doubt as far as Sinead was concerned. She positioned her pillow back on the mattress and punched it into a more comfortable shape. She would just have to ride this one out. Eventually she’d reach a tipping point of tiredness and something in her fevered brain would finally switch off.
A faint noise instantly distracted her. A key was turning in a lock, then retracting with a thud. Elliot was back. Sinead propped herself up against the headboard and listened. The front door opened, then clicked shut. A bar of light appeared between the bottom of the bedroom door and the carpet. Sinead noticed her breathing; quick and shallow. Chewing her fingernails, she heard footsteps coming along the hall, firm and regular. And something else – what was that? Squeaky wheels trundling over the carpet. His suitcase.
Sinead stared at the door. Maybe Heidi had a point: here she was alone in this strange man’s house. Anything could happen. No, no that’s just fucking paranoia. Get a grip. The footsteps and squeaky wheels were getting closer. They stopped right outside the room. A shadow fell across the light under the door. Sinead held her breath.
What was he doing? Was he going to come in? She gripped the duvet tight.
But then the bar of light returned beneath the door. The footsteps and wheels continued on down the hall. A cough echoed off the walls. The master bedroom door opened and shut seconds later. Sinead slid down onto the mattress, pulling the duvet up around her shoulders. The rush of fear subsided and she silently chastised herself for being so paranoid. It was stupid. Getting scared like that was out of character. She focused on the window. After a while she closed her eyes and tried pretending she was asleep.
***
The alarm failed to wake her. The smartphone had been playing its gentle melody for twenty minutes before Sinead stirred. She’d dreamt of being in a dimly-lit supermarket; when she asked a shelf-stacker where the dog food was an old man had led her down an endless series of aisles, like a maze, except the aisles kept getting longer where they should have ended. And the shelf- stacker was the old man she had signed up just before she had visited the bungalow. She was following him, trying to make small talk, but he ignored her questions. When he arrived at the pet food section, he turned round, pulled out a gun from behind a tin of Winalot and shot her point blank in the chest. Sinead woke up immediately. God that was weird. Dog food – what the fuck?! She’d never even owned a dog.
Hauling herself out of bed, Sinead knew she’d be late for work if she didn’t move it. Two new girls were joining her today, so it wouldn’t look good if the team leader was late. With no time for breakfast, she hurriedly showered and brushed her teeth. Just before leaving the house, she went to knock on Elliot’s door, to say welcome back. But then she hesitated. He was probably still asleep. She could catch up with him later.
Sinead exited the bungalow and went round to the side passage. She unlocked her bike and shifted it from the wall. The front wheel knocked over a bucket on the ground. Sinead swore and looked down to see clear liquid spilling, trailing away towards the gate. The smell was bleach. She stood the bucket up and moved it out of harm’s way. Inside, a pair of men’s white trainers were soaking. Sinead quickly opened the gate and wheeled the bike out. The gate swung shut behind her with a bang.
9
The house was empty when he awoke at noon. He assumed he’d be disturbed when Sinead left for work, but evidently he had slept through any noise she’d made; the exhaustion of three nights’ hard labour, combined with the comfort of a proper bed, no doubt. After a cup of weak, milky Assam tea and a plate of overly scrambled eggs on dry toast, he began the survey. The kitchen was all in good order. The dishwasher was half full with dirty plates, bowls and utensils. On closer inspection, the stains seemed to be some kind of pasta sauce. The Penguin Classics Nineteen Eighty-Four mug had a trace of crimson lipstick around the rim. He wondered if she had chosen that mug intentionally; a book that held some meaning for her. Or perhaps she just liked the orange and white striped design. He loaded his own breakfast items, added a dishwasher tablet to the dispenser, and switched on the machine.