Read Online Sleight of Hand by Nick Alexander - Free Book Online

drinks dispenser, I think,
“If only it did. If only sugary tea did cure all ills.”

What Other People See
    When I get back to the house, Penny, already slipping into her overcoat, opens the front door. “How is she?” she asks.
    â€œNot good,” I say. “She had another fit, and …”
    â€œOh the poor love,” Penny says.
    â€œThey sedated her. We should know more tomorrow.”
    â€œThey don’t know what caused it then?”
    I shrug. “Epilepsy maybe. That’s the only word I heard anyone use.”
    â€œGod.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œSarah’s with the woman next door. She came around. She was spitting blood … but I calmed her down.”
    â€œRight,” I say. “That side? The June Whitfield lookalike?”
    â€œThat’s the one,” she says. “She
does
look a bit like her. You know her then?”
    â€œNot really. We met briefly. You look like you’re on your way home.”
    â€œI’m sorry love, but yes, it’s after ten. I have to go. Will you be OK?”
    â€œSure,” I say.
    â€œI made a big bowl of pasta – it’s in the fridge. I thought you’d all be hungry.”
    â€œThanks,” I say. “I’m starving.”
    â€œYou can microwave it. I’m sorry love, but I really have to …”
    I nod. “Sure. Thanks so much.”
    â€œI’ve left my number next to the phone. If you need anything.”
    â€œRight,” I say.
    She shuffles around me and then pauses and pulls a face. “What a day, huh?”
    I smile feebly. “Yes, what a day!”
    Penny opens her arms, and we hug briefly.
    â€œYou don’t have a key do you?” I ask.
    She releases me and wrinkles her nose. “A key? Oh, for
here?”
    I nod.
    â€œI’m sorry love. The truth is, I don’t really know her at all.”
    â€œRight,” I say. “Well, thanks so much.”
    â€œGood luck with the little one.”
    â€œYes, I think I’ll need it.”
    â€œBye.” She gives me a little wave and then walks quickly away.
    I take a deep breath, put the door on the catch, and head back to June Whitfield’s house. It’s her husband who opens the door though.
    â€œHi there,” I say. “I’m, um, looking for Sarah? Jenny said she was here.”
    â€œI’ll get Susan,” he says, vanishing into the lounge as Sarah’s head appears at the top of the stairs.
    â€œHello you!” I say.
    She looks at me very seriously, then descends one step and sits, rubbing her eyes. “Where’s Mummy?” she asks.
    The door to the lounge opens again and Susan appears. “Hello,” she says, without much pleasure, “you again.” Then to Sarah, she shouts, “And you, back to bed young lady.”
    Sarah ignores her completely.
    â€œHow is she?” Susan asks. “I came around, but she said – a woman answered the door – and she said she’s at the hospital.”
    I wince and flick my eyes at Sarah. “Not in front of you-know-who, eh?”
    Susan nods, closes the front door, and with another, “Bed!” directed at Sarah, leads me into the lounge. It’s one of those not-redecorated-since-1970-but-spotless lounges, all green wallpaper, cut crystal, and mock walnut.
    â€œShe’s had some kind of fit,” I explain. “Well, two actually. We don’t know why yet. They had to keep her in.”
    â€œIt’s not drugs, is it?”
    â€œDrugs?”
I ask, astonished. “Why would it be drugs? Do you know something I don’t?”
    â€œWell it happens,” she says.
    â€œOh … well, then, no – no it’s not drugs.”
    â€œWell, good. Sarah can stay here the night if that’s any help,” she says.
    â€œSure. I was going to take her home, but …”
    â€œI’d rather she stayed here,” she says. “At least until