The Housewife(36)

I type it in 0000, then press Enter.

The panel lights up. Incorrect passcode.

All right, no problem. It’s only my first try. I try Roy’s birthday. 4982.

Incorrect passcode.

I try Roy’s birth year. 198 2

Incorrect passcode

How many more attempts do I have before this whole thing locks itself up for good? That’s what they do, isn’t it?

I go to his desk and stand there, running my fingers under its edges in case he taped a Post-it note with the safe combination under there.

“What the hell are you doing?”





21





The look on Roy’s face makes my skin prickle along my hairline.

“What the fuck are you doing in my office? Again?”

“I…” There’s a vein bulging on the side of his head. I want to go to him, put my arms around him, pretend everything is normal but my legs are like two columns of panna cotta. “You’re home early.”

He glances at his watch. “I’m right on time. We’re going out, remember?”

“Oh, right.” The McIntosh dinner. I forgot all about it.

“Answer me, Jodie! What are you doing in here?”

I swallow. “I was cleaning?”

“Do you take me for an imbecile?” he snaps.

“No… I…”

He points at the door. “I locked that door, Jodie. I made sure it was locked, so how the hell did you get in? ”

I’m usually a very good liar, but I have to say, I’m struggling to come up with a reasonable excuse.

“It was unlocked,” I say.

His face is like a mask. His eyes are cold and dead. I’m actually feeling a little scared right now, and I don’t scare easily. That’s the upside of having a crazy mother who puts you through all sorts of terrifying situations like locking you up with hundreds of hairy spiders. (I still believe they were real, despite what my sister said.) You kind of get inoculated against terror rather quickly.

Roy’s eyes skate over to the desk, and with two strides, he’s picked up the pen cup and turned it upside down, sending pens clattering all over the desk. He swipes the pens around, looking for his key, then holds the empty cup right in front of my face.

“Did you take it?”

“No!”

He shakes the cup, almost hitting my nose with it. “So how did you get in?”

“I found the key,” I say.

He drops his arm. “You found it.”

“Yes. It was on the floor in the corridor.” I start gathering the pens on the desk. “I thought it might be the key for your office, and it was, and I went to put it back, that’s all. And then you came home.”

“When did you find it?”

“Just now.”

“So you’re telling me that key has been lying on the floor outside all day?”

I shrug as if to say, How am I supposed to know how long it’s been there ?

There’s a knock at the door, and when we both turn, Marie’s standing there. “Your suits from Brioni have been delivered, Dr. Davies. I hung them in your closet.”

“Ah. Marie. Come in, please.”

“Certainly, Dr. Davies.” She looks at him with her usual professional readiness. No jobs too big or too small. I am here to serve.

“You cleaned the house today, didn’t you, Marie?”

“Of course, Dr. Davies.”

Hardly, I don’t say.

“Jodie claims she found this key on the floor outside. But you would have seen it if it had been lying on the floor all day, wouldn’t you?”

Slowly, Marie turns to look my way.

I am dead. She’s going to rat me out. I know it. She’s going to say, A key? What key? There was no key. And anyway, why would Mrs. Davies need a key? Why, just the other day, I saw her on her hands and knees rifling through your drawers. She didn’t need a key, then, did she?

My body tenses up. Without breaking eye contact with Marie, I close my fist around a ballpoint pen, something to gouge his eyes out with—or hers—when she says, “I told Mrs. Davies about the key on the floor, that’s right. And Mrs. Davies kindly said she would put it on the desk for you. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Davies?”

I wait for the punch line. Any minute now she’s going to throw her head back and laugh and say, Just kidding! Of course, there was no key! She’s just a common little thief! But instead she just waits. They both do.

“Well,” I say finally, touching my hair. “I was trying to tell you…”

“Was there anything else, Dr. Davies?” Marie asks .

Roy rubs the back of his neck. “No. Thank you, Marie.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Davies.”

She turns on her heels.

Roy puts his hand out.

“Can I have it back, please?”

I drop it in his palm. “I was about to put it on your desk, I swear.”

He puts it in his pocket, then checks his watch again.

“You better get ready, or we’ll be late.”

“Of course.” I smile. I’m not worried about the key. I’m not stupid. I thought something like that might happen, so I made a copy.