The Girl Below(45)

“Sure.” I lingered, hoping she would explain what she was up to, but it was clear she was waiting for me to leave.

No wonder I was losing it, spending all my time with an old bat who had taken to secretly chopping up her own curtains. Then and there, I resolved to try harder to reestablish myself in London, to rebuild a normal life, but before I could take even the first step toward doing so, Pippa came round that afternoon with another offer she was adamant I should accept. She wanted me to stay in their flat for the month of August while the family was in Greece. I thought it odd that she had left it so late to arrange a house sitter, but, delighted to be able to put off paying rent or asking for favors from long-forgotten friends, accepted right away. Then Caleb, who had come along reluctantly to visit his grandmother, piped up, “Don’t we normally just put the alarm on?”

“We don’t normally go away for such a long time,” said Pippa, resolutely. She went to give Peggy her bath, leaving Caleb and me alone in the kitchen. He had a black eye, quite a shiner, the kind that you really only got in a fight.

“I’d hate to see the other chap,” I said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only that I bet you roughed him up for doing that.”

“Fuck you,” he said, so aggressively that I guessed the opposite was true. Pippa hadn’t been specific about the trouble Caleb was in at school, but I wondered if he was being bullied.

“You must be looking forward to getting away,” I said. “Having a break from school.” And so ended our conversation.

“Going away with the family isn’t a break,” he said. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”

I was surprised and relieved when the rest of my stay at Peggy’s passed without incident. Amanda returned to resume her duties, ruby red after a week in Marbella, and Pippa came to fetch me and my suitcases in her green Citroen 2CV, a car whose nearest mechanical relative was the tin can. When we arrived at their place, Ari hardly looked up from the TV and Caleb was nowhere in sight. Without fanfare, Pippa showed me to my room on the top floor, on the same landing on which, on my first visit, I had been tantalized by a glimpse of the ladder to the roof. That day the ladder was stowed, which intrigued me even more.

My room was small but cozy, with bare floorboards and a window that looked out over the garden. It was furnished with a single bed, a chair, and a desk with drawers, but I liked the austerity. Compared to Peggy’s, the room verged on hospital clean and I looked forward to settling in, to sleeping well in the chaste narrow bed.

“There’s a wardrobe,” said Pippa, opening it. “But I’m afraid it isn’t completely empty. Some of my old junk is in there—a few boxes and clothes I can’t bear to get rid of.” The boxes were old tea chests like the ones my parents had stored stuff in, the same logo stenciled on the side. Pippa took out an armful of garments to make room for mine and I realized she was as much of a hoarder as Peggy. After taking out the clothes, she couldn’t shut the closet door; it didn’t seem to fit properly in its frame. “One more thing,” she said, pointing to a small door I hadn’t noticed when we came into the room. “The attic bathroom, used by his lordship, who is not the tidiest or most considerate person in the world.”

She opened the door and we looked into the tiny bathroom at a cramped shower stall, toilet, and miniature sink, then through an open door to the space beyond, where Caleb was sprawled on his bed, punishing an air guitar in front of a blaring stereo. He was really getting into it, contorting his face with heavy-metal menace.

When Caleb saw us staring at him, he hurled himself off the bed. “Fucking retards!” he yelled, slamming his body into the door to shut it. “Fuck off! Fuck you!”

Pippa flinched at the abuse, but she couldn’t help smiling, and even though I could tell Caleb was mortified, I laughed too. “You’ll have to work out some kind of system,” she said. “Or use the bathroom downstairs.”

“There’s no lock?”

“Caleb shut himself in there one day about a year ago and refused to go to school, so we had it taken out.” She lowered her voice, conspiratorially. “He’s not exactly thrilled about sharing his floor with anyone, but he’ll get over it. He’s really such a sweetheart once you get to know him.”

I wondered how that was ever going to happen.

Later on, after supper, I unpacked my suitcases, lined up the few books I had along the narrow windowsill, and tried to hang my clothes in what remained of the closet. Caleb came through to tell me we should keep our respective bathroom doors closed at all times, and that I should always knock before I went into the bathroom, even if I thought no one was in there.