Page 22 of Six Steps to Happiness
Determined not to leave a single identifying clue inside number eight, Ronnie began by securing her hair in the net she’d purchased, before stepping into her newly acquired paper forensic suit. Covering her feet with a pair of new socks, she focused on the final item of her outfit – a pair of rubber gloves. She felt quite the expert, putting them to her lips, filling them with air and then snapping them on.
Ronnie turned to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Taking in the whole ensemble, Ronnie could see she looked a treat. “Very fetching,” she said and, twisting her body round from left to right and back again, she recalled the number of times Nick had ridiculed her love of crime dramas. “Who’s laughing now, eh?”
She smiled at the carrier bag containing a couple of extra goodies, picking it up as she made her way out to the landing and up into the loft, hauling up the ladders once she was safe inside. Her heart raced in anticipation as she began dismantling the wall. She let out a nervous laugh, a part of her not quite able to believe she was doing this.
With the relevant bricks set to one side, Ronnie turned her attention to the stepladder. Lifting the top plate, she closed them up, pausing to take a deep breath before continuing. She slowly exhaled and with thoughts of her harassment warning hovering at the back of her mind, she asked herself if she really wanted to go through withOperation Poltergeist. She scoffed, shaking any doubts away. Of course she did. Nick and Gaye deserved everything they had coming to them.
She pushed the ladders through the hole before picking up the carrier bag, dropping to her knees and shimmying into next door. Rising to her feet, she glanced around. Ronnie couldn’t see anything of interest, just a few boxes, typical of any storage area. It was all a bit normal and somewhat disappointing. She grimaced. Whatever it was she’d expected,ordinarywasn’t it.
Her frown turned into a smile as she spotted Gaye’s loft hatch, and she was unsurprised to find it identical to her own. The two houses did, after all, mirror each other. Ronnie manoeuvred the board to one side in preparation for her descent. “Ready?” she asked, hesitant. She grabbed her ladders before she could change her mind and fed them down the hole, using the top plate to flip them open. She took a deep breath and ignoring her galloping pulse, climbed down onto Gaye’s landing. “There’s no going back now.”
Taking in her surroundings, Ronnie instantly found her bearings. She knew from her own property which door led to the box room, the bathroom, the guest room and the master, and she knew full well which one she wanted to open first. She stepped forward and reached for the chosen door handle, but paused. She couldn’t bring herself to turn it. Her curiosity replaced with anxiety; that was where Nick and Gaye slept – together. And, no doubt, where they had consummated their affair. Insisting she was there to carry outOperation Poltergeist,nothing more, nothing less, she let her hand drop. “Maybe later.”
Getting back to the task at hand, Ronnie headed for the bathroom instead.Very nice, she thought as she let herself in. From the glossy tiles, to the towels, to the surfaces and cupboards, the whole space wasn’t only spotless, everything was brilliant white. Apart from the ornate guilt framed mirror, Ronnie noted, and the painted gold feet of the bath. Ronnie had always wanted an authentic roll-top, but Nick favoured bathing in something more modern. Apparently, water didn’t stay as hot for as long in cast iron, and according to him plastic was far more practical. Quite an opinion, she considered, for a man who preferred showers. She ran her gloved hand along a shelf, home to various potions and lotions, bath bombs and salts, all of them expensive looking. Turning up prepared, Ronnie had guessed the woman enjoyed pampering herself. She chuckled at the thought of what she was about to do. “Not for much longer.”
She reached into her carrier bag and pulled out a bottle of anti-freeze. Unscrewing its lid, she delved into the bag again to retrieve a single cotton bud. She dipped it into the liquid, smiling as she gently shook off any excess fluid and, holding it like a pen, turned her attention to the bathroom mirror. “I’m Watching You,”she said, as she spelled the words out onto the glass. Job done, Ronnie stepped back to admire her invisible handiwork. She didn’t have a clue if her prank would triumph, but having seen it succeed enough times in films and on TV, thought it worth giving a go. “Onwards and upwards,” she said, and securing the bottle’s lid back in place, stuffed both the anti-freeze and the cotton bud away again.
Exiting the room, she left the carrier bag on the ladder and made her way downstairs, pausing at the various pictures that lined the fresh white walls as she went. Pictures of Gaye and whom Ronnie assumed to be family and friends. She observed the numerous happy faces staring back, sneering as she tilted each and every image, ensuring each hung at the same strange angle. Ronnie laughed. Who’d have thought that trespassing could be such fun.
Ronnie’s next stop was the kitchen, another room so white and shiny that she had to wonder what her neighbour had against colour. And the cleanliness, there wasn’t a speck of dust or a crumb of food to be seen, thank goodness for her rubber gloves. She checked out the clear-glass dining table, amazed to find not a single smudge. Scanning the room, Ronnie sniffed. She much preferred her own home and its lived-in look.
Taking in the kitchen units, she approached the stack of five drawers. Opening the first, she couldn’t believe how ordered its contents were. Knives, forks and spoons sat perfect in their respective sections; even the larger utensils that lay next to the cutlery tray were precision lined. Ignoring the second drawer, Ronnie opened the third. “Blimey,” she said, staring down at rows of impeccably rolled tea towels. She knew there was a fad for decluttering and cleaning sweeping the nation, but Gaye appeared to be taking organisation to a whole new level. With drawers one and three still open, Ronnie couldn’t bring herself to look inside drawer five. Instead, she simply pulled at its handle until its front sat level with the others.
Turning her attention to the cupboards, there was no getting away from the fact that they were equally as ordered. Again, opening every alternate door, she couldn’t avoid the flawlessly lined jars, tins and containers. Cup handles pointed in the same direction, plates and bowls were stacked according to shape and size. Such tidiness was enough to make her twitch. She stood back to survey the room as a whole and, telling herself that that would do for now, she had a skip in her step as she headed off to the lounge.
Ronnie stopped as she reached the living room door, popping her head in first as she slowly opened it. Her gaze went straight to the window and only when she felt confident that no-one could see in from the street did she finally slip inside. She rolled her eyes at the pristine décor, again various shades of colourless. In her view, for someone so loud and in your face, Gaye had no personality on the home front. Ronnie took in the pale cream stain-free sofa, with its neatly positioned scattercushions. How on earth did the woman keep the place so clean? Not that it mattered. Ronnie wasn’t there to critique her neighbour’s interior design choices. Then again… thinking ahead, Ronnie began to feel excited. House buyers loved a blank canvas and you couldn’t get blanker than white.
Spurred on, she commenced her second round of picture tilting, sniggering as she imagined the further mischief she planned on carrying out. Not that day though. In order to be successful,Operation Poltergeistcouldn’t be rushed, it had to unfold in stages. She paused as she reached the mantelpiece, home to a photo that caught Ronnie’s eye. A picture of Nick and Gaye. She felt a stab of annoyance as she leaned in for a closer look. Taken in what looked like some fancy restaurant, their smiles looked smug and self-satisfied. Ronnie let out a scornful laugh, knowing she was going to wipe those grins clean off.
Ronnie’s ears pricked at the sound of a car pulling up outside, her heart skipping a beat as she wondered who it could be. Her eyes went from the photo to the street. Surely they hadn’t forgotten something? She hurried over to the window and peeped out from behind the curtain. “Willow? Bea?” she said. “What are you two doing here?”
While her mother-in-law appeared to root for something in her handbag, Ronnie’s daughter glanced her way, forcing Ronnie to jump back, praying to God she hadn’t been seen. “Bugger!” she said, and trying to keep her wits together, she raced out of the room, quickly closing the door behind her.
As she charged up the stairs, she tripped and stubbed her toe mid-clamber. “Ouch!” she said, hobbling forward. Checking all the doors on the landing, she was relieved to find them already shut and grabbing her carrier bag, scrambled up the stepladder.
Once in Gaye’s loft, Ronnie hauled them up behind her and hastily replaced the hatch. Without thinking, she threw both the ladders and herself through the hole that led back into number six, her panic rising with every passing second.
The doorbell rang.
Attempting to put the bricks back where they belonged, Ronnie’s hands shook, making the job harder than it should have been. “Thank goodness,” she said, the task finally complete.
The doorbell rang once more.
Ronnie momentarily froze before quickly pulling herself together. Using the ladders to get down onto her own landing, she shut up her own loft before hiding the steps in her bedroom. Ronnie ripped off her paper suit, hairnet and, hopping about, swapped her new socks for a pair of slippers.
“Mum! Are you in there?” Willow shouted through the letterbox.
Ronnie shoved everything under the bed before taking a second to calm herself. Wiping her brow, she took a deep breath. “Coming!” she called back and, putting a smile on her face, headed downstairs to greet her guests.
15
Ronnie smoothed down her clothes before opening the door to Willow and Bea. “This is a surprise,” she said, fixing a smile on the two women. Still a little out of breath thanks to the obstacle course she’d moments ago run, she hoped her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.
“You took your time,” Willow said. “And since when did you take to locking yourself in?”
“I was about to run a bath. You know, enjoy a bit of pampering.”
Willow raised an eyebrow. “A bath?”
