2019. Portobello, Edinburgh
Janet’s narrow dark hall wasn’t designed for five people. Especially when four of them were tall, young and gave off a heavy scent of patchouli oil and what Janet assumed was probably marijuana.
‘Come through,’ she said, ushering the four visitors into her living room. ‘Sit down. Can I get you something to drink? Tea, or water?’ She stood in the doorway and waved a hand in the general direction of the two settees. Dan sat down, crossed his legs and asked for a strong black coffee. Amy walked over to the bay window, put her hands on the glass, and looked out, saying something about the lovely view and all that beautiful sky. The other two, possibly also a couple, sat down on the settee opposite Dan, hips and knees touching. Janet couldn’t remember whether the young man was one of the Erics or not. And she didn’t recall ever having seen the young woman before. Amy hadn’t introduced them and Janet didn’t ask.
‘So where is it, then?’ Dan’s voice was firm, authoritative. Amy interrupted him.
‘Steady on, Dan, we’ve only just arrived.’ Amy looked at Janet and smiled. ‘He’s a big softy, really, Janet. Can’t bear the thought of suffering.’ Dan stared at Amy, shook his head, and frowned.
‘There’s no suffering here,’ Janet said, holding onto the door frame for support.
‘Of course there isn’t,’ Amy said. She was running her fingers around the window frames. ‘Assume you have to keep the windows shut all the time. In case?’
‘Not really,’ Janet replied. Only when he’s moving about. I’m very careful.’ Dan uncrossed his legs and looked up at her.
‘Careful to stop it getting out? Or careful of its well-being?’ he asked. Janet didn’t know how to reply. What did they know? They didn’t have clouds. Probably didn’t even have children. They couldn’t begin to understand how precious Cyril was. That she would do anything to protect him. Anything at all. She put her hands down by her sides and took a couple of deep slow breaths.
‘I’ll get the coffee. Anyone else want one?’
‘Just water for us, thanks,’ said the woman on the sofa.
Janet left the room and went into the hall. The bathroom door was closed. She put her hand on the door handle, turned it back and forwards and checked that the door was properly shut. The visitors had left their bags in the hall. One of the bags was a large black holdall. The visitors had dropped their voices and she couldn’t hear the specifics of their words. She lifted the holdall up. It was big enough to take Cyril’s Perspex box. And it was empty.
SANDERLINGS 