The Half Truth(21)

What exactly he was doing back in the UK, she had no idea. Had he really been spying on her? She wished she could have found out more about what he had been up to when he had lived in the UK, but John had been tight-lipped.

She wondered if Sasha had known anything. He had certainly never given her any indication that Pavel was mixed up in anything as serious as murder. Sasha would have told her. They shared everything. She turned away from the window and her eyes came to rest on the photo frame on the mantelpiece. She walked over and picked it up. A sparkly frame with bits of tiny mirror tiles, sparkly glass, a bric-a-brac home-crafted frame that Sasha had given her. Inside was a photograph of the two of them, taken on Brighton Pier.

She smiled. The frame really wasn’t her style and didn’t fit in with anything else in the house. She remembered how proud Sasha had been when he had presented it to her. She had wanted to laugh, but he had been deadly serious when he said how precious it was. A token of how precious she was and how precious their love was. How sad that they had so little time together. She replaced the frame.

‘I’m going to pop upstairs to get changed,’ she said to Dimitri. ‘Then I’ll go next door and see if Mr Cooper wants some tea. You okay there?’

A brief ‘yes’ in reply, which didn’t even involve her son taking his eyes from the screen. Okay, the TV wasn’t the ideal babysitter, but today she was grateful for it.

Tina sighed to herself as she climbed the stairs, picking up a couple of toys that Dimitri had discarded at some point that morning before school. All she ever seemed to do was tidy up after him. How was it possible a six-year-old could make so much mess? She reached the landing and, just to prove her point, there was a sprinkling of what looked like powder on the carpet.

She scuffed it with her foot in an attempt to rub it in. She paused. Not simply because she knew she was being lazy and should really get the Hoover out, but because the powder had a grey tinge to it. What on earth had he tipped out? She looked into his bedroom and noticed an old cardboard box in the corner that he had brought home from school. Well, he told her it was a robot, hence the silver foil stuck randomly all over it, together with milk-bottle lids. The dust and dirt had probably come from there. She went to call out his name and tell him to come and tidy up, but stopped herself.

Tina rubbed her face with her hands. All this business with being followed and now Pavel being in the UK, stirring up emotions about Sasha, was getting to her. She needed to stay rational and not let the stress take its effect on her and, as a result, on Dimitri. She couldn’t tell him off for playing. She’d clear it up and say no more.

When she went next door to Mr Cooper’s. It was no surprise that the back door was unlocked and he was dozing in his chair with classical music coming from the old radiogram beside him. Stepping into Mr Cooper’s living room was like going back in time by about fifty years. Despite Tina enjoying the comforts of modern-day living, she always felt a comfort in Mr Cooper’s home. It reminded her of her Nan’s house and gave a reassuring warm, nostalgic feel.

Today, however, she didn’t get that usual wrap of warmth. The house felt different. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was but there was an odd atmosphere. She gave herself a mental shake. Things were definitely getting to her.

She decided not to disturb Mr Cooper in his mid-afternoon nap, she would simply pop back later with a plate of dinner. Retracing her steps into the hall, Tina glanced towards the front door to see if there was any post. A collection of envelopes lay scattered on the doormat. They mostly looked like junk mail. Mr Cooper rarely got any personal post. All his bills were paid by direct debits and, apart from his daughter in Australia, there wasn’t really anyone else in his life. Tina bent to collect the mail all the same and flicked through to make sure there wasn’t anything important-looking. If not, she’d put it straight in the recycling, like she usually did.

The bang from upstairs made Tina jump. It sounded like a door. Tina stood still and listened, but all she could hear was her heart thumping inside her chest, as if trying to beat its way out. Then another bang, this one not quite so violent. Tina looked up the darkened staircase. Mr Cooper never went upstairs any more, his legs weren’t up to it. Tina had only been up there once herself, when he had needed an extra blanket last winter. He had spilt tea on his usual one and she had offered to take it home and put it through her washing machine. Tina remembered from then that upstairs was like a museum, dark where the curtains were kept drawn, mainly to stop the wind blowing through the gaps in the wooden window frames. Mr Cooper had never seen the need to invest in the upkeep of his property, not one for double glazing or central heating. He had managed all his life without it and didn’t see why he needed it in his senior years. Tina remembered how most of the bedroom furniture was covered with off-white dust sheets.