Page 64 of Fe
He cleaned up after himself and hung the wet towel on a heated rail. Another luxury. There were dark red bruises on his knees and thighs from where he’d been kicked and fallen last night. It didn’t take much to mark him. He wondered what Ripley would think of his tattoos. Being tattooed when you had muscular dystrophy was painful. Because he lacked muscle mass, his bones were closer to the skin’s surface. He liked the tattoos he had but he wasn’t sure he’d have more.
Fen unpacked only what he might need and left the rest in the bags. There was enough room to put everything in the closet, including his case, so the room was tidy. After he’d made the bed, he carefully smoothed down the duvet. This wasn’t a ten-pound cover from Tesco but something expensive.
While he was on his own in the house, he had another look around, though he didn’t go into Ripley’s bedroom.
As he was checking the kitchen cupboards, his phone rang.
“Hi, Ripley.”
“It’s all sorted with the police. They don’t need to speak to you. There’ll be no charges.”
Fen couldn’t hold in his gasp of relief. “Thank you.”
“I’ve told my mother so she won’t pester them for daily updates. Well, I hope she won’t. I’m making enquiries about Scott Winn. I should be able to find out if he has gambling debts. It shows motive. You might be entitled to payment for unfair dismissal.”
“I don’t care about the money. Idocare about my name being cleared.”
“Let’s see what my guy comes up with. Got an exciting day planned?”
“I thought I’d sell the contents of your house and redo it with stuff from Ikea. I bet you don’t notice. Well, not until you lean on it.”
Ripley laughed. “See you soon.”
“I can’t wait,” Fen whispered and heard Ripley’s intake of breath.
Fen called his mum and told her about the police not pursuing the theft case and she burst into tears.
“Thank God. Oh Fen, I was so worried.”
“It’s all okay now. Listen though, I need to make a meal for my friend. Will you send me the recipe for the parsnip linguini thing, please?”
“I’ll do it now.”
“Thank you. Bye.”
By the time Fen left the house, slightly panicked as to whether he’d set the alarm properly, he had a good handle on what was in Ripley’s kitchen cupboards and pantry—no mint sauce for a start—and had made a list of what he needed to buy. He looked up where he was on Google Maps and it wasn’t too far from the main road where there was a supermarket. He could have made his way to a bus stop, but it wasn’t much further to walk to the shops. There was no snow on the ground. What had fallen last night had melted and although the temperature had risen, it was still cold.
He bought what he needed at Sainsbury’s Local. He was tempted by what he didn’t need—mostly a whole lot of lovely-looking Christmas food—and slowly made his way back. Thinking about Christmas, which was only a few weeks away, why didn’t Ripley have a tree? If Fen had been able to afford one, he’d have had one up in his bedsit on the first of December.
Fen promised himself a coffee and one of Ripley’s shortbread biscuits when he got back. He couldn’t afford to buy a drink while he was out. He had to be even more careful with his money now.
Unless I say yes on Friday.
Except would that alter his mindset about spending three pounds plus on a coffee? When you were rich, did you ever reach a point where you didn’t even bother asking the price of something, but just bought it? Probably, but that would never be him. Memories of his mum struggling to make ends meet meant he’d always be careful with money.
Fen glanced through windows on his way back to Ripley’s and saw Christmas trees in many houses. Some had wreaths on the door. He remembered one his mum had made that had been stolen. The next year, she padlocked it in place. Pretty sad thing to have to do.
As he reached the house next to Ripley’s, the door opened and an old lady waved at him.
“Hello.” Fen stopped walking.
“I saw you come out of Ripley’s house.”
“I’m a friend of his. I’m staying with him.”
“Did he give you a key?”
“Yes.” Why did she want to know?
