can have it,’ I said, queasy at the thought. ‘There could be anything crawling about in there. I’ll sleep on the floor.’
‘Oh, like that’s better?’
I looked down and winced. The carpet was a mess of mould and mouse droppings. Mushrooms sprouted from the soggier patches, all of them different shapes and sizes, all of them probably deadly.
A fat black insect with a shiny back scuttled past my foot. I watched it scurry across the carpet, through a clump of the mushrooms, and into a dark hole in the skirting board.
‘We should check out the other rooms,’ I said, fighting the urge to scratch my skin until it bled. ‘They might be less...’
‘Revolting?’
I nodded. ‘Hopefully.’
‘Right then,’ Ameena said, swinging her legs off the bed and taking a kick at the closest mushroom crop. ‘Lead the way, kiddo.’
Of the three remaining upstairs rooms, one was another equally filthy bedroom, one was a small box room with nothing in it, and the last was a bathroom so horrific we both agreed never to speak of it again.
The box room was where we settled in the end. It was completely bare – exposed wooden floorboard, unpainted plasterboard walls – and, as a result, hadn’t decayed as badly as the other rooms. It also looked straight on to the side of my house, meaning we could see if anyone came or went through the front door or the back. The perfect place for a stakeout.
I stood at the window, looking across the gardens to my house. In the past twenty minutes I’d seen just one car pass along the street. I’d ducked as soon as I spotted the headlights, but the car didn’t slow down as it continued along the road and turned the corner at the far end.
‘Anything?’ Ameena asked from right behind me. I hadn’t even heard her approach.
I shook my head. ‘No. Looks deserted.’
‘We expected that,’ she said, as tactfully as she could. ‘I’m sure she’s fine. Your mum. There’d have been something in the papers if she’d... if her condition had changed.’
‘I know,’ I replied, still not taking my eyes off the house. ‘I want to go over.’
Without looking, I could guess at Ameena’s expression. ‘That’d just be stupid,’ she said. ‘You’d get caught.’
‘Who by?’ I asked, gesturing across to the house. To my home. ‘There’s no one there.’
‘They’re bound to be watching, though. Think about it.’
‘I won’t be long,’ I told her. ‘I just want to see it. Maybe get some clean clothes.’
I stepped back from the window, still not looking at her. She caught me by the shoulder. I stopped, but didn’t turn. ‘Don’t do it,’ she said. ‘You can’t help anyone if you’re locked up.’
‘I’m not helping anyone now,’ I said, shrugging myself free. ‘I won’t be long. There’s no one coming.’
Halfway to the door, I stopped, as a blue light lit up the room. It faded quickly, then brightened again. The pattern repeated, over and over, and I knew what was happening even before Ameena spoke.
‘Cops,’ she said, matter-of-factly.
I crossed to the window. ‘Here?’
‘At yours.’
Ameena stood to one side of the window frame, leaning out just a little to watch what was happening below. I took the opposite side and peeped out.
A single police car stood outside my front garden, its blue light flashing, its headlamps blazing.
‘No one coming, eh?’ Ameena said. I didn’t meet her gaze.
‘What’s it doing?’ I asked, my voice a whisper, as if whoever was in the police car might hear me.
Before Ameena answered, the driver’s door opened and a woman in a police uniform stepped out. From here she looked young – mid-twenties, maybe – but it was hard to tell for sure.
She glanced along the street and up at my house. I pulled back, expecting her to look our way, but she didn’t. Instead she walked around to the other side of the car and opened the rear door. I almost cried out as a familiar head of grey hair bobbed up into view.
‘Nan!’ I said, wishing I could bang on the glass, wishing I could run to her. ‘It’s my nan!’
Ameena didn’t reply. I tore my eyes away from Nan long enough to see the worry on Ameena’s face. Only then did the first stirrings of panic begin.
‘Why’s Nan here?’ I wondered aloud. ‘Why would they bring her to the house?’
‘Maybe she’s picking something up for your mum.’
‘At this time of night?’
‘Maybe it’s something she really needs.’
‘But why send Nan? She doesn’t know where things are. She can barely think straight these days.’ It was true. Dementia had been devouring Nan’s memories for years now. Sometimes she didn’t recognise any of us, herself included.
‘Maybe...’ Ameena began, but nothing followed it. She was all out of maybes.
The policewoman let Nan take her arm. I watched them shuffle slowly up the path. It was the policewoman who unlocked the door. I kept watching until they both disappeared inside.
‘What if something’s happened to Mum?’ I asked, feeling the panic rise up into my throat. ‘What if they’ve come to sort out all her stuff ? What if she’s...’
‘They’ve left the lights going,’ Ameena said, cutting me short. I looked down at the car. Sure enough, the blue light was still flashing and the beams of the headlamps still cut through the gloom. ‘They can’t plan on staying long.’
‘Why’s it flashing?’ I asked. ‘I thought that was just for emergencies.’
Ameena shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me.’
We didn’t speak again for a while, just watched for Nan and the policewoman emerging. Eventually, we got tired of standing and sat on the floor, taking it in turns to raise up on to our knees and look over at the house. Lights had come on in all the rooms, but other than that, there had been nothing to report.
‘How long’s that been?’ I asked.
‘About an hour,’ Ameena said. ‘Give or take ten minutes.’
I looked at the car, its lights still burning. ‘Her battery’s going to go flat if she doesn’t get a move on.’
Ameena yawned. ‘Mine too.’ She lay down on her side, propping her head up on her hand. ‘Think I’m going to get some rest. You should too.’
‘I’m
