Page 32 of Six Steps to Happiness
Ronnie’s back stiffened, her irritation on the matter returning.
“I don’t know what’s going on next door, but there’s definitely something up.” Willow drank a mouthful of tea. “I’m not meant to tell anyone, but they’ve gone away for the night.”
Ronnie’s ears pricked at the news. “Really?” She hadn’t seen them leave.
“Yep. They left first thing.”
Keen to know more, Ronnie put her cup to her mouth, doing her utmost to appear disinterested. “And have they gone anywhere nice?”
“To see Gaye’s mother, who’s not well either, by all accounts. Goodness knows why Dad wants it kept quiet, but anyway, he asked me to check on the house while they’re gone. I wouldn’t care, but they’ll be back first thing tomorrow. It’s a bit strange, if you ask me.”
Under the circumstances, Ronnie knew Nick’s request wasn’t strange at all. Not that she could tell Willow that. He, no doubt, wanted to make sure there were no surprises to greet them upon their return. Ronnie smiled a secret smile. It felt good to know that he and Gaye had gotten so worried they’d only go out if someone kept an eye on their property. Worries that were about to get worse. Ronnie’s brain went into overdrive at the prospect of gettingOperation Poltergeistrestarted. “It would seem that way,” she replied.
“At least when Dad rings, I can tell him everything’s in order.” Willow appeared pensive for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe age is getting to him too?” She nodded to the envelope. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Sorry?” With her mind still elsewhere, Ronnie forced herself into the present. “Oh, yes.” She reluctantly tore at the seal and pulled out yet another piece of paper. Opening it out, she read the words:Monday, 10am, sharp. “What’s happening on Monday?” she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
“Yep.”
Ronnie’s face crumpled. How many times did she have to tell them she hated such things?
“And no matter what you’re thinking right now, you’re gonna love it.”
Ronnie frowned as she considered what they’d already put her through. “That’s what you always say.”
22
Ronnie’s spirits had lifted since her daughter’s visit. Instead of feeling betrayed by her offspring, she finally appreciated the fact that Willow’s contact with Nick did, after all, have its benefits. She chuckled. Without their continued relationship, she wouldn’t be standing there for a second time, wearing a paper forensic suit, rubber gloves and a great big smile, while dropping her ladders down onto Gaye’s landing. Rather, she’d be moping about in her own house, still not moving forward withOperation Poltergeist.
With only two items on the agenda and no intention of loitering, Ronnie headed straight down to her neighbour’s kitchen, ready to complete her next task. She let out a nervous giggle as she took in the room’s clear glass dining table and six large white high-back chairs. “Here goes,” she said, knowing her ex and his floosy were soon to get the shock of their lives. “Let’s do this.”
Ronnie took a deep breath to calm herself; whether Gaye’s furniture was expensive or not, the last thing Ronnie wanted was to cause any criminal damage. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, she began by checking the underside of every chair leg, pleased to note each had a rubber scratch-proofing pad attached. “Wonderful,” she said, knowing that without them she’d have had to abort. Although, she knew she shouldn’t be surprised. If she’d learnt anything during her visits into number eight, it was that Gaye was a perfectionist.
Making sure she was careful, Ronnie lifted three of the chairs, one by one, and placed them in a neat line on top of the table. Picking up a further two, she created a second tier, before putting the final chair on top again. Ronnie stood back, smiling as she admired her handiwork. It was like a six-chair pyramid.
Turning to exit the room, her heart thumped. As she made her way upstairs, it wasn’t the next task in itself that bothered her; Ronnie thought it was inspired. Coming to a standstill outside the master bedroom, there lay the issue. Entering was like venturing into uncharted territory and as her hand hovered over the door handle, she had to steel herself in readiness of letting herself in. She wondered what she’d find on the other side. After all, Gaye was a scarlet woman, and through there was where the action happened. Ronnie inhaled and exhaled a few times, imagining handcuffs chained to the bed frame, a mountain of sex toys and a mirrored ceiling, before finally plucking up the courage to open the door.
“Wow!” she said. The sight before her was not what she expected. The room was even more special than the rest of the house.
Glancing around, the only aspect that didn’t surprise Ronnie were the four white walls and pale cream carpet. As for everything else, she didn’t know what to look at first. From the art deco dressing table, made solely from mirrored glass, to the matching bedside cabinets; from the king-size bed with its crisp white sheets, to the giant pastel grey headboard made up of padded vertical columns. Ronnie would’ve put money on there not being another bedroom on Holme Lea Avenue like it. Even she had to admit it was fabulous. Anyone would think she’d stepped into a luxury hotel.
She felt tempted to peek inside a couple of drawers and have a snoop in the white lacquered wardrobe. But keeping herself in check, as much as Ronnie wasn’t there to cause any physical damage, neither was she there to be nosey.
Getting to work, Ronnie pulled the black and white geometric throw off the bottom of the bed and placed it to one side, along with the pillows. She flipped the duvet round so the fastenings at the bottom lay hidden at the top. Ensuring the duvet was as crease free as when she found it, she reinstated the throw, except this time at the head of the bed. All before precision lining the pillows, which she repositioned at the foot.
She stood back to assess the result, approving of her efforts. “If an unwanted visitor in your boudoir doesn’t freak you into moving,” Ronnie said of Nick and Gaye, “then nothing will.”
Job done, Ronnie didn’t want to loiter, but as she prepared to leave, she realised she’d stepped a little too near the window. She quickly looked out to make sure she hadn’t been seen, her eyes widening in horror and her pulse quickening as she spotted Mrs Wright looking straight at her. “Shit!”
She froze, her mind racing as she wondered what to do next. With no choice but to stand there, Ronnie knew making a run for it would create more suspicion. “Fuck!” Too scared to move, she hoped she hadn’t been identified.
While her neighbour squinted her eyes, clearly trying to decipher who or what she was looking at, Ronnie tried to think about what a real ghost might do under the circumstances. “Think! Think!” she told herself, before realising the answer was obvious, they’d disappear. Not that that helped. It wasn’t as if a living breathing human being like her could just vanish. She began to sweat.
Remembering something she’d seen lots of times on TV, Ronnie pictured many a cinematic ghost either floating towards or away from the camera. Of course, her only option was to try to replicate that, but without an actor’s platform and track, Ronnie wasn’t sure she could pull it off.
