Page 105 of Mad Mabel

“All right,” I say. “No one likes a clever dick, Adeem.”

Libby snorts.

“Well,” she says. “Don’t leave us in suspense. What happened to the baby? And whose was it?”

73

Adeem and Libby are packing up their things when there is a knock at the door.

“Get it,” Libby says. “We’ll finish up here.”

But I’m slow on my feet after all the sitting and by the time I get to the door, Peter is almost out my front gate.

“Hello, Peter.”

He turns back. “Oh. Youarehome.”

“I know I don’t look a day over twenty-five,” I say, “but Iameighty-one. And sadly, I’m not as quick as I once was.”

He chuckles. “You’re a card, you know that, Elsie?”

“Indeed I do. Now, what can I do for you, Peter?”

His smile disappears. “What can you do for me? Well, for starters, you could tell me what this sign is all about.”

He points at theFORTHCOMING AUCTIONsign, which is upright again after Persephone’s vandalism. “Oh.”

“You’re selling? Whatever happened to ‘they’re going to have to take me out of Kenny Lane in a mahogany box’?”

I sigh. “When I said that, things were a little different. But now my presence on the street is causing issues.”

“But that’s not your fault.”

“Perhaps not. But it’s also notyourfault. Or Joan’s or the Nguyens’ or Roxanne’s. And with a child living on the street now, I think it’s better that I clear out.”

Peter shakes his head. “Where will you go?”

I shrug. “The country? Somewhere where people keep to themselves.”

“The country?” He’s up in arms. “You’re in your eighties, for God’s sake!”

“Old people love the country.”

“Good for them. But this is your home.”

He makes a cross, petulant face. It makes me smile. “Careful. People might think you like having me around.”

He doesn’t return my smile. “Idolike having you around. Besides, before my mother died, she made me promise that I’d look after you. How can I do that if you’re miles away?”

“By telephone,” I say.

“I don’t think my mother would be happy with that.”

“Well,” I say, “when you promised your mother, things were different. You didn’t know who I was.”

“You’d be surprised what I know,” he says.

“What does that mean?”