Free Someone to Watch Over Me by Madeleine Reiss Page B

she suggested in her brightest, most encouraging voice. ‘Ophelia, go and get your harp, darling. We’ll pour some oil upon troubled waters.’
    The threat was enough to get most guests reaching for their coats and handbags, particularly since the sound of a police siren could be heard only a few streets away.
    Long after the last of the guests had departed, Carrie went to draw the curtains across the window in her front room. As she glanced out, she saw Oliver on his doorstep, kissing a dark-haired woman. This was no casual goodnight kiss. He was definitely taking his time about it. Anxious not to be caught staring again, Carrie made a show of closing the curtains with much swishing of fabric, and was almost certain she saw Oliver looking over the shoulder of his latest conquest and straight at her, but of course it was dark outside and she couldn’t be sure. Anyway, she told herself firmly, she wasn’t really all that interested.

Chapter Twelve
    After Max had watched
SpongeBob
for three hours straight, Molly made him go cold turkey and insisted, despite his reluctance, on a brisk walk as far as the village, past the duck pond edged with ice and through the small copse that led to the back of their house. When they got back Molly was struck by how dusty and unloved the place looked and she realised it had been a while since she had given it a proper clean. She set Max up in his room with some toys and started on the living room, clearing out the fireplace and laying it with new kindling and logs, sweeping the slightly sloping wooden floors and shaking the rugs out of the back door. The garden was small and square and almost entirely paved over with flagstones. If it had been her own garden Molly would have taken up the patio, cut down the looming hedge that smelt rotten in wet weather and instead made curving flowerbeds and a patch of lawn. As she stood there on the chilly step she imagined a different garden with a flowering cherry tree and bluebells, and perhaps a white lilac in the corner. This house, situated in the middle of the Fens about five miles from Ely, was not where she would have chosen to live – it was too exposed to the weather and too isolated – but since she had no choice it would have to do for the time being.
    Molly went back inside, dragged the hoover from the cupboard, and began to vacuum the stair carpet. After about five minutes she turned the protesting machine off. Like everything in the house it was past its prime and had a tendency to overheat and needed regular rests. She went to the top of the stairs and, not wanting to disturb Max while he was so happily and quietly employed, stood by the half-opened bedroom door and watched him. He was sitting on the floor, with several sheets of paper spread around him. He had a habit of starting to draw something and then deciding it had gone wrong and abandoning it and starting afresh on another piece of paper. He got through masses of the stuff. It didn’t matter how often she told him that he should persist with a particular drawing he would always refuse to continue once doubt had crept into his mind. Now he seemed to be drawing what looked like a castle surrounded by squiggly lines. She was surprised when he spoke and thought at first that he must be addressing her.
    â€˜I’m not exactly sure what you mean,’ Max said. ‘You’ll have to be clearer or I’ll get it wrong again.’
    Molly watched as he stopped what he was doing and looked up and across his room in the direction of his bed. It seemed to Molly that he was waiting for a response, because he tilted his head the way he did when she was explaining something to him that he didn’t really understand.
    â€˜Oh, OK. I get you,’ said Max and he bent down over his paper again and started drawing lines with a surer hand. ‘We just have to make sure they are all connected.’
    Molly went all the way into the room.
    â€˜Who are