Chapter Two

Amber

I tentatively open the front door and creep inside – anticipating seeing Barb still sitting at the kitchen table, or worse, flitting around the place, tidying – something she often used to do if left unattended for any length of time. She means well, and to be fair, in the days when the boys were toddlers, I was grateful for her help, seeing as I don’t have family nearby. But for the last couple of years I’ve tried to discourage it.

It’s quiet, though; no sounds bar the deep grumbling hum of the fridge that needs replacing. I relax, letting out my held breath. Good, she’s gone. I need to hurry up and get myself sorted or I’m going to be late for work. They’ve been good at Stewart Optician’s – knowing I now have to do all the school runs, they’ve allowed me some flexibility to the usual working hours. But I don’t want to push my luck because if the house sells, I’ll be giving notice and likely landing their small family-run business in the shit. I haven’t informed Henry and Olive Stewart of my intention to leave Devon yet; they don’t know the house is on the market – none of the staff have ever been to my house so they wouldn’t recognise it in the estate-agent window. The way it’s going, the move might not happen for ages, so I can’t risk them finding out and immediately seeking a replacement and then “letting me go” before I’m ready.

The doorbell rings as I’m in the en-suite bathroom slapping my make-up on; there’s not enough concealer and camouflage lately to cover up the dark circles under my once wrinkle-free, bright blue eyes. I’m still two years off the dreaded four-O, but I fear it will only get worse. I sigh and reach for my phone, pressing the SmartRing app.

‘Hello,’ I say into my phone, my attention flitting from the mirror to the slightly blurry image of the back of a DHL delivery driver standing on my doorstep. He whirls around, presumably confused as to who is speaking to him. ‘Just leave it on the doorstep; I’ll get it in a sec,’ I say.

Finally realising the voice is coming from the bell to the left of the door, he steps closer to it and shouts, ‘Needs a signature.’