Jo’s phone pings an alert.
‘Oh… what?’ she says, her eyes bleary from lack of sleep, her brain unable to switch off. She reaches for it, sees the unfamiliar House Angels app alert on her phone.
One new reply to your House Angels application.
Jo reaches for her glasses. She can just about see OK without them, but everything becomes crystal clear when she slips them on. She opens up the app.
A new message alert sits in her inbox. It can only be from SusiQ19. She hasn’t applied for any other house-sits. Doesn’t want to. None of the others has pictures of Will in their living rooms. Her heart races. What if she’s been turned down? She’s new to the site, after all. Has no feedback or references, only her ID checks via the site.
‘What – what the hell am I doing?’ She drops her phone down onto the duvet beside her, unable to look at it, knocking her notebook and pen onto the floor. ‘He’s not coming back, OK?’ she tells herself, covering her face. ‘He left you, and that’s that. He doesn’t want you. He’s done with you. He was just too cowardly to tell you that he’s moved in with another woman.’
Jo leans forward, bringing her knees up to her chest, hugging them, sighing into the duvet cover. Even if you are out there, she thinks, I’m not sure I’d even want you back now. ‘Not after everything you’ve put me through,’ she says, lifting her head.
Jo takes a deep breath, refusing to pity herself, refusing to let Will’s choices bring her down any more. Then, unable to resist, she grabs her phone and opens up the message. For a moment, her eyes are blurry. But then, as she focuses, she sees it perfectly clearly.
We’re sorry. This homeowner only accepts House Angels with three reviews or more over 80 per cent. But please do keep your angelic applications coming…
‘Great. Just great,’ Jo yells, hurling her phone onto the bed and her head onto the pillow. Somehow, she needs to get into that house.
Eight
Jo cups her hands around her mug, watching as Louise bites into her sandwich.
‘Not sure just the one is going to be enough,’ she says, grinning. ‘This is delicious.’
Jo smiles. ‘You can have mine, if you like. I don’t really have an appetite today.’ She’d been quiet since they’d met up on the corner of Regent Street and the Parade, their usual weekly meeting spot if they each had time to grab lunch together. Given her mood, Jo had been reluctant to go, but then figured that what she needed most was time with her best friend. Even just being in her company lifted her, took her head away from the dark place in which it was permanently fixed.
‘Go on then, what’s up?’ Louise dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin, brushing crumbs off the shelf of her pregnant belly.
‘Oh, no. Nothing. It’s fine.’
‘I’ve only got half an hour left, so if you want advice, you’d better hurry.’ She glances at her watch.
Jo rolls her eyes, flashes a brief smile. ‘I applied for a house-sit,’ she says.
Louise’s face lights up. ‘Good for you,’ she says, nodding, smiling. ‘You really deserve a break. I hope it’s somewhere lovely?’
The photos of Will on the mantelpiece flash through her mind. Do I say anything? Do I tell Louise? She’ll insist I go to the police…
‘Well, it was somewhere lovely. But I didn’t get it.’
‘What?’
‘The house owner turned me down because I don’t have any reviews or feedback.’
‘Oh, how ridiculous,’ Louise says, laying down her sandwich. ‘How are you even supposed to start, in that case? If you need a reference, I’m happy to provide one. Surely a few glowing words from a solicitor would count for something. Anyway, that particular owner was clearly a moron. Forget that one and apply for another.’
I don’t want to apply for another, Jo thinks. I want that one.
‘Doesn’t matter. I should probably stay around here anyway. You know, in case.’
‘Oh Jo, just leave a note on the door or something. You can’t never go away again. He’s got your number, hasn’t he? It’s not exactly like he’s gone out of his way to call it this last year, so he’s hardly likely to arrive back…’ Louise trails off, reaches her hand out to Jo’s. ‘Shit, I’m sorry, Jo-jo. That was harsh. But I hate to see you suffering and putting your life on hold.’
Jo sniffs, refusing to cry. She’s done enough of that, and it’s not helped any. It doesn’t bring Will back. ‘If only I knew, you know? Just if he was dead or alive, that would be a start. And if he’s alive, then if I had just a single fragment of a reason why he left me, I might be able to come to terms with it. In time. Can you understand that?’
‘Of course, and—’
‘If he’d gone off me because… because we were having trouble conceiving and he was desperate to have kids, you know, I could eventually get my head around that. Maybe. Or even if it was because he didn’t like the colour I’d dyed my hair, or he hated the way I dressed or thought I’d put on weight or looked frumpy, or he wanted someone with bigger breasts, longer legs… you know, I’d eventually buy that shit. I’d hate him, of course, but at least there would be a cause for my anger, my grief. Some kind of closure. Right now, right now I don’t even know what I’m grieving. Don’t even know if it’s Will’s death, or simply his selfishness. That’s all I’ve got. Which is a big fat nothing. It’s killing me.’
Louise hangs her head. ‘Oh, Jo…’
‘No, I’m sorry. It’s fine. Absolutely fine. No need to pity me. You know that’s not what I want or need.’
‘I know. Really, I do. As much as anyone can. Christ, we’ve known each other since forever, feels like we’re sisters. I hate what you’re going through, and if there was anything I could do to take away your pain, make it better for you, then I would.’
Jo nods, smiling. ‘Thanks, Lou. That means the world. I honestly don’t know how I’d have got through this without you. And Archie, of course. He’s been a rock, too, mainly because he’s indulged you in indulging me.’
Both women laugh then and Jo picks up her sandwich, waving it at Louise. ‘Last chance before I comfort-eat, and order a slice of that chocolate cake too?’
‘Eat,’ she says, flapping her hand. ‘Look, Jo, I don’t want this to come across wrong, but… but can I help you out with a holiday? You need a break so badly, and we can call it a loan but without any pressure. You could take a week in the sun or bugger off to a cottage somewhere in the UK if you preferred. Anything to take your mind off… off the interminable waiting.’
Jo thinks about this. It’s tempting. Of course it’s tempting, and she knows Louise can afford it. She doesn’t begrudge her her good job and career. Far from it, in fact. She knows that money isn’t particularly important to her and Archie, rather a thing that they just have through circumstance, through their passions. Louise, a family solicitor, specialising in representing women in abusive relationships; Archie, an obstetrician, dedicated to his charity work. Every year he takes leave to donate his time to hospital maternity wards in Africa, helping raise awareness, raise money, raise standards. And giving his expertise to the local doctors.