Free Home Truths by Louise Forster Page B

had everything.
    Not a bunch of firemen who made her smile.
    Or a countryman whose expressive eyes suggested he knew everything about her — though, of course, that was impossible.
    The words, You’re in deep trouble, fluttered through her brain. Jennifer didn’t allow herself to investigate what they meant. Instead, she polished off another scone and, taking Calum’s card, ambled down the long hall. She stopped to admire another black and white glamour photo, this one of the beautiful Audrey Hepburn. What would become of these photos? What would become of all her uncle’s personal things?
    Sighing, Jennifer walked into the girlie pink bathroom. She turned the taps on in the shower cubicle and placed her hand under the water to find that it was warm. However, twisting the taps on full bore didn’t improve the flow. She let it run while undressing, just in case it decided to improve its performance. She shrugged out of Calum’s soft leather jacket and placed it on her bed along with his business card. She stripped off Veronica’s shift, turned, and caught sight of her face in the mirror. ‘Oh my God!’ What will everyone think? Rubbing at the soot smudges with her fingers, she quickly headed for the pathetic dribble called a shower, having to roll her body like a belly dancer to get wet.
    A shower usually took her about five minutes — ten minutes tops if she had to shave her legs, but this was ridiculous. Shampooing her hair wasn’t too bad, but rinsing the lather out was a nightmare. She glared at the old showerhead, gave up and towelled herself dry, then slipped on her undies and bra and ran a brush through her hair. Without thinking, Jennifer plugged in the dryer — BANG. She yelped, and threw the dryer onto the vanity.
    Smoke curled out of the power point.
    â€˜Shit! Calum said don’t use the plugs — shit! Hurry-hurry-hurry!’ She danced around, arms flapping, knowing what she needed to do. She scanned the bathroom for something she could use. ‘What’ll I do — what’ll I do? Toilet brush — shit! Left it — can’t remember where.’ One fire rescue per day was quite enough, thank you very much. Edging forward with her hand outstretched she quickly grabbed the cord and yanked it free from the plug.
    With a sigh, Jennifer let her body sag against the wall. She rubbed one shoulder and then the other, digging her fingers in, trying to drive out the tension. A week’s worth of excitement in one day had worn her out. She eyed the bed, beckoning for her to fall into its flowery, pink ruffles and just lie there while the world sorted itself out. Instead, she forced herself to remain in the en suite. No matter what happens, you can’t neglect your skin. She slapped moisturiser on her face. ‘Relax, stay calm. Breathe in, breathe out. Ah,’ she soothed, though her fingers trembled. ‘Feeling better already.’ No crackling, smoking electrical gremlins were going to stop her from moisturising her skin against the summer’s dry heat.
    She moved into the bedroom, and grabbed her mobile to ring Calum. With the sound of his voice, the English language disappeared from her brain. Had she tried to utter anything it would’ve been gibberish.
    â€˜Hello…hello…speak,’ his voice a deep purr.
    â€˜Sorry, Calum, my mind was on something else.’ And that was not a lie. ‘Um…I’m ringing about your jacket.’
    â€˜I was coming back, I’ll be there in about half an hour, if that’s all right?’
    â€˜Great, see you then.’ She waited, her hand gripping the phone like a lifeline.
    â€˜Jen?’ Calum asked.
    â€˜Um…yeah?’
    â€˜Do not touch any power points!’ he ordered.
    â€˜Um…No, of course not.’ She heard him softly chuckle and disconnect.
    In a dream, Jennifer stood there for a bit longer, phone to her ear.
    â€˜Jen,