My Cleaner by Gee Maggie

Author:Gee, Maggie
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781846591327
Publisher: Telegram Books

33

Now Mary Tendo goes back to the smart street, with the scruffy house, with the tall white steps. She is going to get it right this time. Everything is better the second time. If she could have her life again, Omar would not leave her, she would not lose Jamie.

Climbing the stairs is like a mountain, but she hopes she is looking less like a missionary. She thought about wearing a hat, or sunglasses, so that Zakira would not recognise her, but this seems too much like a detective novel. Instead she wears plain black trousers and sweater, clothes she has bought very cheap in the market, but which make her feel like a Londoner, since everyone in London seems to wear black, with the orange coat swinging open on top. In these clothes, people treat her differently, as if she is no longer simple-minded. And she has dug up a rose-bush from the garden, which she intends to give to Zakira. The roots were a problem, but they’re neatly coiled in a plastic bag inside a smarter paper one.

Mary rings loudly but nothing stirs. Still, she is so sure she will be successful that she waits for a minute, then rings again. This time she hears heavy feet approaching, and the door opens the length of a hand.

It’s not easy to see if it’s the same woman. ‘Zakira?’ says Mary.

‘What do you want?’ The woman’s voice is very English, like the newsreaders on BBC World Service, which Mary listens to at home with Charles. As educated as Miss Henman is, or even more so, Mary thinks.

And yet, she’s thinner-faced than Mary remembers, in the half-dark of the half-open doorway. ‘Good morning,’ Mary says, and smiles, but the woman looks at her fixedly, coolly. Mary begins to doubt herself. ‘You are not Zakira?’ she asks, slowly.

‘I hope I am,’ the woman says, softly. ‘Could you kindly tell me who you are, now, because I can’t stand here chatting all day. I’m very pregnant, in case you haven’t noticed.’

Mary’s heart sinks with a sickening lurch. Zakira is pregnant. Has forgotten Justin. Has found another man. Mary’s mission is doomed to failure. How terrible, that Zakira is pregnant. Last time, of course, she had been clutching a plant, which must have hidden her big tummy.

‘I come from Justin,’ Mary continues, doubtful. ‘Justin has sent this flower for you,’ which is not quite true, but she holds out the rose, heavy with earth in its sheath of thick paper. The woman’s eyes open wide with shock. There is a pause and then she says, mutedly, ‘From Justin. You had better come in,’ and so Mary follows her down the stairs and in through Zakira’s white-painted front door.

Mary sees with approval that the flat is very tidy. Big expensive vases, containing no flowers. Some beautiful lamps, ornate metal and glass, which have a look of North Africa. There are many books, but they are all on bookshelves. A table with a laptop, covered in paper.

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