until the shells were left. ââBut youâve got the originals, Lesley. This is all reproduction,ââ he gestured at the Art Nouveau tiles and pale pink marble. ââWhoever had this place before us shouldâve been prosecuted. You shouldnât modernise these houses, you have to go with the plaster and all that. And youâve got those beautiful stained glass windows.ââ
ââMother didnât care for change. But theyâre very draughty.ââ
ââIâd keep them myself. You could put in secondary glazing. Or fit the stained glass into double glazing panels. Cut out all the draughts. I know a good glazing firm.ââ
ââIt sounds rather expensive,ââ she said.
He saw heâd overstepped himself. He cleared his throat.
ââIâm sorry, I shouldnât be telling you your own business â¦ââ
ââNo, Iâm sure youâre right. The bills would be smaller, I suppose. Itâs just that thereâs so much â¦ââ
ââYes. Takes a lot of getting used to. Just you take your own time, pet, and donât let other people try to run your life. Itâs early days.ââ
Heâd seen tradesmen take advantage of single women. Silly prices and shoddy work, and charm. Not in his firm, he made sure of that, but heâd seen it happen. He wondered if sheâd be all right with no-one else in the house. His mother had kept his fatherâs police hat and raincoat on the pegs in the hall for years, so that no caller would think she lived alone. He and his brother Archie had cleared the garage and sold the car. She wouldnât let them clear out cupboards, wouldnât let them do more than paint the anaglypta downstairs.
Lesley got up from her chair, ââIâd better get back,ââ she said.
He followed her into the hall and she opened the door herself, before he could do it for her.
He switched on the outdoor light. Within seconds she was halfway down the long path.
Just as he closed the door, he heard Ruby coming cautiously down the stairs. She was in her dressing gown, the pink plastic bath cap still on her head.
ââWho was that?ââ
ââLesley next door. She brought your dish back.ââ
ââHow long was she in?ââ
ââLong enough to give me the dish back.ââ
ââDid you give her the boots?ââ
ââWhat boots?ââ
ââThe boots that woman left for her. ââ
ââI forgot. Iâll run after her,ââ he said.
ââNo, itâs all right,ââ she said. ââIâll take them round myself tomorrow. What were you talking about?ââ
ââFireplaces,ââ he told her.
The place to be
Walking home with a strong wind at his back, his head freezing cold, and too many thoughts jigging inside it, Ryan tried to make sense of his evening. Light from the street lamps shimmered in the puddles. Every house with its curtains open looked like a treasure cave. A woman walking a big black dog smiled at him when they passed, and he smiled back, though heâd never seen her before. Man, had he eaten some weird things. Parsnips, sweet and mushy. Long thin green beans, French beans they were called, OK but not great. Roast potatoes heâd had a lot of times, but not like theirs. There were small round objects in the sauce, which turned out to be mushrooms, and squarish bits that he recognised as bacon.
The girl had avoided looking at him, which left him free to look at her. The set of her ears entranced him. Where in his skull heâd found that word he didnât know, but it was perfect. She had her hair caught back in grips, so that the ears showed, and every time she turned her head, like when she talked to Kerr, he traced the curves. The way they leaned away
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Skeleton Key, JC Andrijeski