A Single Act of Kindness by Samantha Tonge

Author:Samantha Tonge [Tonge, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

Dettol swiped the bracelet another time, caught it and jumped back, arching her back, as it broke and beads tumbled onto the carpet.

18

Monday and Tuesday passed, then Wednesday came. Every day Tilda had stared at Logan’s phone number. He’d left it on a scrap of paper, in the plastic bag, and she’d added it to her list of contacts. An early run with Milo yesterday had helped distract her; the morning chill, the park’s dewy smells from grass, flowers and soil, the focus on not tripping over. They’d agreed to make a habit of it. He’d be back from AA any minute and then, after lunch, the two of them were going to deep clean Mrs Hudson’s bungalow in Bramhall. The side door went, a voice chatted to Dettol who’d jumped down from the wooden chair next to Tilda and run into the utility room, a voice now as familiar as the furniture itself.

‘Dettol needs her lunch… You could feed her,’ said Tilda as Milo came into the kitchen.

‘Rule-breaking?’ he said and smiled.

‘Being flexible,’ she replied. ‘How was your meeting?’

‘One poor sod has relapsed, after ten years. Reminded me that we must always be wary.’

Tilda felt an itch inside, an itch that wanted to be scratched, an itch that had become stronger in recent weeks that, nevertheless, she’d become good at ignoring, refusing to admit where it came from and what it meant.

‘I’ll make lunch in a minute,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘Must finish this email first.’ They’d got into a routine of taking it in turns to prepare the food – a routine that hadn’t been formally established by any verbal or written agreement. This was new for a woman who lived according to rotas and schedules. It made her think about her and Yves’ routine of swapping dinner photos. That had felt real, as if it meant something, until she and Milo shared actual cooking.

Over the week Milo had spent more time in the kitchen, at the table, in front of the old laptop that he’d borrowed from the same friend who’d been storing his clothes. He must have found lots of jobs to apply for, as he’d spent more time typing than Tilda. She wasn’t used to talking on the phone, with someone else listening – calls including that first contact with new staff or clients, keeping patient whilst dealing with a mistake made by the tax office, firmly chasing the late delivery of a new cleaning product she was keen to test out, and challenging the price rise on the tunics she ordered in for staff – Milo’s being in the recent batch, along with a new one for Jazz, a spill of bleach had ruined her current one. However, soon she hardly felt his presence. Cups of coffee would magically appear by her side. Purring would float through the air when Dettol crept onto his lap. The amicable, easy company didn’t intrude and had dulled the pain caused by reading the letters, including one that, unlike the others, wasn’t to Tilda from Logan.

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