The Tenant: A gripping psychological thriller with an ending you won't forget by Angela Lester

Author:Angela Lester [Lester, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkubator Books
Published: 2022-05-07T16:00:00+00:00

Margaret was standing behind the checkout desk when I came in.

“Oh dear,” she said. “Is everything all right with you?”

I nodded, avoiding her eyes.

“You’d better sit down.” She led me into the office and directed me to sit in her swivel chair.

“Are you still under the weather? You’re as white as a sheet!” She shook her head. “Did you see Dr Turner?”

“I’m just a bit tired.”

“What did he say?” She didn’t give up easily.

“Nothing much, just that he’s found someone else to play for the choir.”

“Do you mind?”

“No, of course not. I’m sure she’s much better than me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She looked at me, her face soft with sympathy. “Did he tell you that?”

“No.” I swallowed. “He didn’t have to. He clearly doesn’t think I’m good enough.”

“Well,” she shook her head, “as long as you don’t take it personally.” She frowned. “I don’t know if I should tell you.” She glanced at the door and lowered her voice. “Something similar happened a couple of years ago.”

“Really?”

“I can’t remember her name, but she was a lovely girl. She was supposed to sing the soprano solo in one of his concerts. I think it was Haydn. She even had extra lessons for it. And then halfway through rehearsals he gave the solo to someone else. She was in tears when she told me. She said that the other student didn’t have the voice, but that he liked her better.” She sighed. “I don’t think that’s very likely, but he really can be a bit insensitive. I don’t think that he handles these things very well.”

“Don’t worry, it really doesn’t matter,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. To divert her attention, I enquired about her son.

“Oh, he’s absolutely fine,” she said with deliberate cheerfulness. “I don’t worry anymore. He’s probably still in bed, sleeping it off. It must have been three when he came in last night. But what can I do? Throwing him out would only make things worse. What would he eat, and where would he end up sleeping? It would kill me to see him on the street.” She let out an unhappy laugh. “He doesn’t listen to anything I say, so I might as well give up and stop fretting about it.” She looked at her watch. “Good grief, is that the time?”

I watched as she put on her coat. She bent down and gave me a little hug.

“I hope you feel better soon. Don’t worry about the choir,” she said, smiling. “There will be other opportunities. Don’t take it to heart.” And then she was gone.

The library felt desolate with hardly anyone about. Only a couple of students were sitting at tables, working. There was no sound – except for the eerie hum of the overhead lighting. A woman in a thick Norwegian jumper was leafing through the Music Quarterly, silently turning the pages.

To keep myself busy I spent some time pushing around the trolley, shelving returned books. Turning into the reference section I caught a faint scent of cigarettes.

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