Page 115 of Fe
“Mum!”
Fen pushed to his feet and picked up his things. “Don’t worry. Better come and bolt the door though.”
As Sandra opened the door, she said, “I think this is the last straw. I can’t keep her safe. I have help, but it’s not enough. The trouble is, some days, she’s far better than others. My husband, Geoff, doesn’t see how bad she’s got. She sometimes thinks he’s her husband.”
“Could be tricky.” Fen risked a smile.
Sandra sighed. “She’s not climbed into bed with us yet. Geoff thinks she’s still in there. You know? He wants her to remember. When she does, his face lights up, he’s so happy. But…”
“Tell him where I found her and what she was wearing. If she’d left the door open and someone had come in or one of your kids had got out? Maybe that will convince him.”
The cleaner had gone and the house looked spotless. Fen unpacked the food into the fridge, then hung up his coat and jacket. Before he carried his new things upstairs, bought with his money, not Ripley’s, he took the presents and paper out to the summer house and hid them. Could he stay in here over Christmas? At least until Ripley had gone to his mother’s? Assuming he was actually going to his mother’s?
He sighed. No water. No toilet. Nowhere to lie down. An idea slid into his head. Why not go to where his mum had lived? Alistair had said it was being renovated over Christmas and Fen still had a key. The electricitymightbe off but not the water. If it was, Fen could turn it on. He could buy a few things to eat. Cereal. Fruit. He could manage for a couple of days. He’d make sure he charged his phone and power bank before he left here and he could even watch a film or something on Christmas Day.
Fen brightened up. He’d have stayed in a cheap hostel if he’d not been able to think of anything, but he’d be fine in his old home.
Fen was lying on the couch practising his Japanese when Ripley got back. He paused his Duolingo and pushed to his feet.
“How did it go?” Fen asked.
Ripley sat down and tugged Fen onto his lap. “How do you think it went?”
Fen slid his fingers into Ripley’s hair. “Manslaughter. Because you’re brilliant.”
“Manslaughter. Sentencing after Christmas.”
“You didn’t have any more trouble, did you?”
“Gino’s family aren’t happy. But the judge warned them to shut up and the police did their job. What’s cooking?”
“Baked potatoes and there’s salmon and green beans. And mint sauce.”
“Sounds perfect apart from the mint sauce. I see you bought a coat.”
“And shoes and shirts, but that wasn’t the most exciting thing about today. Well, there are a lot of exciting things.” Fen picked up his passport from the side table and handed it to him.
Ripley turned to the picture page. “Who does this belong to?”
“Ha ha.”
“How come you look your gorgeous self on yours and I look like a deranged cannibal on mine? Can I take a picture of this so we can get your ticket sorted for January?”
“Uh huh.”
Once Ripley had done that, he handed the passport back and pulled Fen close. “What else happened?”
“Listen.”
A few minutes later, Ripley was gaping at him.
“Now you know it wasn’t me,” Fen said.
Ripley frowned. “I knew it wasn’t. Bloody hell. Is he a complete idiot?”
“Yes.”
“Send it to me.”
