We sit in our usual spot, on the bench beneath the weeping willow. It’s mild for January, but grey. Misty grey sky with Brillo pad clouds. Drizzle hanging in the air, making my skin feel damp, even though it isn’t raining.

‘I’m worried about Saffron,’ I start.

‘Oh, why?’ Hayley asks.

‘There’s been another incident.’

I roll the collar of my jacket down and show her the bruises on my neck.

She inhales sharply. ‘Saffron did that?’

‘She put her fingers around my neck and tightened them.’

Hayley sits, eyes wide with concern. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the plastic bag containing the remnants of my iPhone.

I swing it in front of her face. ‘And this is what she did to my phone.’

‘Tell me what happened exactly.’

‘I said something that seemed to annoy her. Nothing much. I had just made her a cup of coffee and was telling her about my plans for the garden. Where I was thinking of planting some Hostas. Showing her a photo of the flowerbed on my phone. She began to shout – saying how much she hated me living here and was fed up with me taking over the garden. The next thing I knew she grabbed it from my hands and stamped up and down on it, smiling maliciously.’ I pause for breath. ‘Then when it was destroyed she grabbed my neck and tried to throttle me.’

‘Why on earth did she behave like that?’

‘Well, I’ve seen her slap Miles. She’s just violent.’

‘If she slapped Miles I expect she was provoked.’

I tighten my lips. ‘Well, I didn’t do anything to provoke her.’ I pause. ‘I screamed and shouted until she stopped. I can look after myself … It’s the children I’m worried about.’

Hayley shakes her head in consternation. ‘I’m shocked, but I can assure you I’ve only ever seen her behave with patience and kindness towards the children.’

Seeing that I need to try another tack, I put my hand on her arm. ‘I’m just asking you to keep an eye out for any unusual behaviour, that’s all. I mean, if she’s secretly having a breakdown, she’ll need our help, won’t she?’

88

Saffron

Ted steps into my office more casually dressed than usual, wearing a two-piece rather than a three-piece suit.

‘How’s it going?’ I ask.

He smiles. ‘Not bad, not bad. Eight more months of the bank loan to tide us over. I’m impressed by the list of potential new clients you’re planning to target.’

I grimace. ‘I didn’t do well with Joshua Cassidy.’

He leans towards me. ‘Saffron, we only need to catch one.’

‘It hurt me, what he said in the email, about wanting someone younger, more dynamic.’