22

22

The next day, Fen met the cleaner who was in her fifties. Ripley had warned him she was coming and that she liked the house to herself, so Fen said hello then left. He could have retreated to the summer house but he had a few jobs to do. He wanted to go and get his passport, and as he'd finished repairing the chessboard, he thought he might as well drop that in at the shop.

It took him over an hour to get there and it reminded him how much he didn't like long journeys on the bus. If he'd still had his job, it would have been a trek from Ripley's place. He reached the post office before the shop, so he called in there first. Once he'd shown his ID and been handed the passport, he found a space to stand and take a better look at it.

Fen wished he could have smiled, but he looked okay. Not like the wide-eyed, slightly stupid criminal of his first five attempts at an acceptable image. He grinned when he remembered the trouble he'd had, then zipped the passport in an inside pocket of his jacket. Fen didn't really see why he needed a smart coat as well but he'd look for one if that's what Ripley wanted.

The shop was less than fifty metres away and Fen's heart had sunk long before he reached it. It felt strange coming back here. He spotted Scott on his own inside and Fen stepped back before he'd been seen. He had to stop himself clenching his teeth. It didn't matter that he was happier doing what he was doing now, it still hurt to be dismissed for something he hadn't done. Which gave him an idea. He activated the voice recorder on his phone and put it in his open backpack. Scott might say something incriminating.

Scott gave a mocking laugh when Fen walked into the shop. "What the hell are you doing here? Begging for your job back?"

Fen moved closer. "I've brought something for Alistair. Is he here?"

"Yeah. He's in the workroom. I'll give it him."

"No. I don't trust you not to drop it."

Scott sniggered.

"Why did you stick that ring in my backpack? You could have hidden it anywhere else and picked it up later. Why get me blamed?"

When Scott didn't say anything, Fen kept talking. "What have I ever done to you?"

"You're an arsehole."

"What? Scott, I literally came to work, spent most of my time in the workroom and went home. I had nothing to do with you."

"And I get from my dad—At least Fen's some use. You do fuck all. It was Fen this, Fen that. At least Fen knows something about Japanese ceramics. You know nothing. Then you opened your mouth about what I do on my phone when it's none of your fucking business. At least now you're gone, I don't get you shoved down my throat."

"I needed this job. At least it was something I could do. You don't even like it. When you find something better, you'll be off."

"Too fucking right. But I wasn't going to let an opportunity to get rid of you slip past."

Fen's heart pounded. "Why did Tara say you'd not been into the workroom?"

"Because she's my girlfriend and I asked her not to."

Was that enough? Fen wasn't sure. "You lost the business the Belmont contract. The Richardsons got it."

Scott smirked. "Not me that lost it."

"Yes it was. You took the ring. What the hell were you thinking? That an old lady wouldn't notice?"

"It was on the floor. I picked it up."

"Dickhead," Fen muttered and headed for the workroom, his throat choked with hope. Had his phone recorded? Was it clear enough?

Alistair looked up when he walked in. "Hello there, what are you doing here?"

Same question as Scott but said in an entirely different tone.

"I came to get my passport from the post office, but I brought the chessboard back." He took it out of the bag he'd carried it in and put it in front of Alistair.

"Wow, Fen. Excellent work. I can't tell which square you replaced. It looks really good."

"Thanks."

"You want a coffee?"

"Please."

"Sit down then."

Fen perched on the chair. The moment of truth. A few seconds later, he heard Scott's voice asking what Fen was doing there. It was clear enough. He glanced over at Alistair who'd not yet put the kettle on. He walked back to Fen and listened. When the recording ended, Alistair's face was grim.

"Send it to me."

He forwarded it, though he wondered why. Alistair knew the truth and that was all that really mattered.

"Will you let me deal with this, Fen?"

Fen nodded. Alistair went to make the coffee. He felt as if a weight had lifted from him. Now Ripley's mother would know for certain he hadn't taken the ring. That was important.

"I never thought for a minute that you'd done it." Alistair came back with the drinks.

Fen almost believed him. He suspected there'd been a bit of doubt, but now there wasn't.

"Do you want your job back?"

"No." For all sorts of reasons.

"I'm going to talk to Charles and we'll give you some money."

Because maybe they wouldn't sack Scott.

"When are you flying out?" Fen asked.

"Sunday. Venice, then Rome, then Florence. Your mum is so pleased you're having Christmas with Ripley. It was a huge relief to her."

So I am a liar when I need to be.

Fen was rarely in the mood to go shopping. Spending money always made him anxious. It didn't matter that he had a lot more in his account than he usually did, nor that Alistair would be adding to it. Fen had always tried to make things last as long as he could. But today, he felt like treating himself, though not from anywhere expensive, nowhere Ripley would shop. Even so, seventy-five pounds for a coat was still a lot of money.

As well as a long, grey wool coat, he bought a pair of smart shoes and two dress shirts. No tie. Ripley had so many. He even managed to find a few more Christmas presents for his mum and Alistair. After he'd bought a couple of rolls of paper and tape, he headed back.

When he got off the bus, he called in at the supermarket to pick up ingredients for dinner. Baked potatoes and… He finally settled on salmon. It wasn't something he bought for himself, but it was on offer.

Fen was a couple of streets away from Ripley's when he saw Annie tottering towards him in slippers. She wasn't wearing a coat, just a dress and a cardigan. Shit. When he saw her start to cross the road, he hurried as fast as he could.

"Annie! Wait!"

At least she stopped.

"Do I know you?"

"I live next door. Where are you off to?"

"To see my son in his hockey match."

Fen pulled his new coat out of the bag. "You look a bit cold. Why don't you wear this."

He helped her put it on and fastened the buttons. Her hands were freezing, so he gave her his gloves, then his hat.

"I think I heard the hockey match had been cancelled," Fen said.

"Has it?"

"Yes. Let's go home and check when it's going to be played."

To his relief, she let him turn her around and they slowly made their way back.

"Where am I going?" she whispered.

"Home."

Fen thought how much he'd hate not being able to remember things properly. Forgetting names was one thing but having your memories slowly erode… But did Annie even know? Maybe she was happy enough in her own world. It was worse for Sandra, watching the mum she knew gradually disappear.

When they reached the door, Fen rang the bell. Since they'd seen no sign of Sandra, he had to assume she was either out looking for her mum or she'd not realised she'd gone. When the door opened, Sandra gaped at them in horror.

"Mum? What…?"

"I found her near the high street," Fen said. "On her way to her son's hockey match. But I heard it had been cancelled."

"Hockey? Yes. Yes! It has." She shot Fen a look of gratitude. "Thank you, Fen. Come in."

Once they were all in the house, Sandra bolted the door high up. Her mum made her way into the lounge and sat down.

"Is that your coat?" Sandra asked.

"Yes. I bought it today."

She sagged against the wall. "I can't do this anymore. I thought I'd bolted the door but I'm so tired."

"Shall I make you a cup of tea?" Fen asked. "Why don't you sit with her a minute?"

Sandra looked as if she was going to cry but she dropped down next to her mother.

Fen set his crutch aside. "Milk? Sugar?"

"Milk, but no sugar for both of us."

The layout of the house was similar to Ripley's but it was full of clutter: shoes in the hall, kids' toys all over the place and lots of books piled up. He found mugs and teabags in the first cupboard he opened and moments later slowly returned to the lounge with two drinks. His coat, hat and gloves were on the chair and Annie sat with a blanket wrapped around her.

"Look what Fen's made you," Sandra said.

"I put a little bit of cold water in this one."

"Thank you." Sandra handed it to her mother. "Aren't you having one, Fen?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"You must think I'm a terrible daughter. Daughter-in-law, but…"

"Of course I don't."

"Who are you?" Annie stared at Fen.

"Fen's our new next-door neighbour."

"I want him to go away."

"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 electricity might be 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."

"Why?"

"So we have more than one copy, so I can let my mother listen, so we can sue for unfair dismissal."

"You can have a copy but forget the suing. I don't want to and Alistair said he'd sort out compensation. There. Done."

"Any more major achievements?"

"I learnt how to say a few more things in Japanese."

Ripley raised his eyebrows.

"Sarani ikutsu ka no koto."

"Does that happen to mean ‘a few more things'?"

Fen groaned. "Are you going to spoil all my jokes? You can't help yourself, can you?"

Ripley kissed him. "No." Then he kissed him again. And again.

The next day, Ripley finished work at lunchtime and drove Fen to Ham. He knew Fen was nervous about meeting his mother, but she could hardly argue with the recording. Not that she'd yet heard it.

He pulled up on the drive and got out of the car. Fen was taking his time. Ripley held out his hand. "It will be fine. Come on."

Fen let him take his hand. Ripley let his fingers go when the front door opened.

Petra smiled at him, then scowled at Fen. "I don't think—"

"Then don't." Ripley strode into the house. "Is she in the drawing room?"

"Yes, but—"

"Come and listen to this."

Most of the furniture had gone. His mother sat in an old chair of his father's.

"What's the thief doing here?"

"Be quiet and listen." Ripley played the recording.

"So it wasn't you," his mother said to Fen.

"No."

"Fine. It wasn't you. Goodbye."

"I'm going to wait in the car," Fen whispered.

Ripley sighed, but let him go and nodded to Petra to leave too. If his mother was going to be insulting, he didn't want anyone to listen.

The moment the drawing room door was closed, she started. "What on earth do you think you're doing, Ripley? He's much too young for you. Bad enough you like men and not women, but he's a child."

"He's twenty-four."

"How can you do this to me? The morality, the health risks. Are you deliberately trying to hurt me?"

"I'm not doing anything to you. I didn't purposely decide to be gay to embarrass you."

"At least Alejandro was your age. Pity you couldn't hold onto him."

Ripley took a deep breath and pressed his fingernails into his palms. All these years putting up with her attitude, the snide comments… She'd withheld her love all her life. Had he really thought she'd ever change? Was it some warped sense of duty, a way of trying to please a dead father that had kept him coming back? It ended now.

"My life has nothing to do with you. Who I choose to spend my time with has nothing to do with you. I've wasted too much of my life and energy trying to be a good son. I always knew that being gay meant I would never be a good son in your eyes, yet I still tried. I am what I am. Nothing will change that."

"Your father would have been ashamed of you."

"You're wrong. My father would have been proud of me."

He walked out, gently closed the door and saw Fen standing there, a box at his feet.

"The lady brought this down. It's your stuff."

"Let's get out of here."

"Are you going to check what's—"

"No, because I don't give a shit." Ripley picked up the box and walked out.

He put the box in the boot and got in the car. Fen slipped into the seat beside him. Ripley hoped Fen hadn't heard all that but suspected he might have.

"Your father would have been proud of you," Fen said quietly.

Right. Ripley huffed. "Stay out or eat at home?"

"Home."

Ripley stopped to get a Thai takeaway, then drove Fen to the house, left him with the food and the box and took the car to the garage. He'd had incidents like that with his mother before. She always went too far, but this was the first time he'd truly taken in how toxic she was.

By the time he joined Fen in the kitchen, the table was laid and Fen was dishing out the food. A mild Pad Thai for Fen and green curry for him, plus prawn crackers.

"I'm going to have a beer," Ripley said. "Would you like one or I could make a lime and lemonade?"

"A lime and lemonade would be brilliant, thank you."

Ripley went to the fridge. "Now you have a choice. We can go away for the weekend or we can throw a party on Saturday."

"A party? I get to meet your friends?"

"Yes."

"Then a party. Are you sure?"

"After we've eaten, I'll see who can come."

Turned out to be enough people to make it an actual party rather than a dinner party. Fen ought to meet those who'd be on the ski trip. Ripley didn't want it to look as though he'd started a fake relationship to shut up those who kept pressing him to find someone.

Ah shit.