The Woman at Number 24 by Juliet Ashton

Author:Juliet Ashton [Ashton, Juliet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK

Chapter Thirteen

Notting Hill, W11

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Tuesday 26th July, 2016

TO LISTEN WELL IS ESSENTIAL TO ALL CONVERSATION

In a fug of cigarette smoke and Radio 1, the decorators had painted the downstairs hall a curd yellow, which helped to lift the Ghost Train vibe a little. Until, that is, Mavis opened her door and Sarah entered sunless Flat E to Peck’s discouraging welcome.

‘Ugly!’ declared the bird, his barrel chest puffed out. ‘Ugly old cow!’

‘Nice to see you at lunchtime, for a change,’ said Mavis.

As a receptionist, Sarah had one afternoon off a month. She’d felt guilty clocking off while St Chad’s was still buzzing. Keeley had passed her with a nodded ‘goodbye’, holding a small boy by the hand. The child looked ready to cry and Keeley looked overworked; now that she kept the diary Sarah knew that Keeley had no space for another client.

Sarah’s feet had slowed. She’d stood for a moment, feeling the pull exerted on her by the boy’s face. By his need. She’d walked on; the children were the priority, and she couldn’t offer him what he needed. There was still a pane of cold glass between her and the children who came to St Chad’s.

Lunch was a roast chicken salad, as delicious and light as Sarah had come to expect. Mavis’s personal rehabilitation inched forward, but there was no change in her surroundings. In a pinafore dress with its hem coming down, she was a chameleon perfectly in tune with her habitat; only Mavis’s mind shone in this vault.

The light that came from Mavis only seemed to shine on Sarah; the rest of the house – apart from wise little Una – still thought of her as a vicious crone. Sarah felt chosen, which was nice; she also felt frustrated, which was not at all nice. She was a missionary, desperate to spread the word: Praise the Lord! Mavis has a heart!

‘Will Leo be lending a hand today?’ asked Mavis. When Sarah didn’t answer, she went on, ‘When there’s already so much unavoidable pain in life, why are you sleepwalking into a firing range, dear?’

‘It’s not like that.’ Sarah felt her tongue fork. There was a part of her that hoped it was exactly ‘like that’; she was waiting for Leo to lift his head and realise his terrible mistake. ‘I’ve made it clear there’ll be no monkey business.’

‘You can say “sex” in front of me.’ Mavis lifted one unruly eyebrow. ‘I may be ancient but I remember how it feels to want a man.’

Sarah enjoyed hearing that red blood beat in those varicose veins. Perhaps Mavis carried around a broken heart under her terrible clothes.

‘Just because your liaisons aren’t physical,’ said Mavis, ‘doesn’t mean they’re innocent. This is a cliché, but clichés are clichés because they’re true: if you play with fire, you get burned.’

‘What if,’ said Sarah hesitantly, ‘I don’t mind getting burned? If the pain proves I’m alive?’

Mavis gazed at Sarah’s face, her eyes searchlights seeking out all Sarah’s raw truths.

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