Free Running Girl by Simon Mason Page A

entry.’
    â€˜Why didn’t you say? If you want to gain entry, it’s no problem. All these houses have those new vinyl doors and windows. All you have to do is—’
    â€˜Not my style, Felix. I prefer to knock.’
    Felix looked at his watch. ‘It’s two o’clock. The middle of the day, Garv. No one’s in.’
    â€˜I disagree.’
    â€˜Then why’s no one answering the door?’
    â€˜You over-estimate Mrs Dow’s powers of locomotion. We must wait.’
    As they waited, Felix passed the time by helpfully outlining the very quick and completely effective way of opening the modern vinyl door. Felix the Cat. As in ‘cat-burglar’.
    â€˜Shh, Felix. Here she comes.’
    There was a shadow in the frosted glass of the front door. It wavered, there was the knuckle-cracking noise of locks being released and then the door swung slowly open to reveal Mrs Dow in her dressing gown, hair awry, face vacant and bewildered.
    â€˜Dear Mrs Dow,’ Garvie said, stepping forward with the flowers and an angelic expression. ‘We’re sorry to disturb you. But we wanted to say that we’re thinking of you at this very difficult time.’ And he bowed his head.
    They sat on the bamboo-cane sofa in the conservatory drinking orange squash while Mrs Dow said how touched she was that Garvie had thought of her. She was glad to see him again. His flowers were in a vase on the table and she peered at them vaguely and attempted a smile. She apologized for her appearance. She hadn’t been sleeping well, she said, and the doctor had prescribed some pills.
    â€˜Mick will be sorry to have missed you. He’s still at work.’
    Garvie said he was sorry to have missed Mr Dow too. He even looked sorry.
    â€˜I’m so happy you came,’ Mrs Dow said with a sadly quavering smile. ‘I know how fond of her you were, Garvie. I was so sad when Chloe decided to—’
    â€˜Yeah, I know.’
    Felix gave him a look, which he avoided.
    â€˜What I mean is,’ he said, ‘I know how much I’m going to miss her. She was’ – he looked at Mrs Dow with his clear blue eyes – ‘remarkable. All credit to you,’ he added softly.
    Finding no words, Mrs Dow smiled and nodded, blinking back tears.
    He went on: ‘We ought to leave you in peace. But can I ask you a favour before we go?’
    She nodded again.
    â€˜Thing is, Chloe and I were doing some maths together last Friday morning, and I lent her a calculator. But it’s really my mum’s and she uses it at work so I just wondered if there was any chance of picking it up. It would get me out of a bit of trouble, to be honest.’
    Mrs Dow got to her feet, swaying slightly, and led the boys upstairs.
    â€˜The police said they were going to seal her room, whatever that means, but they haven’t yet.’
    Felix tutted politely. ‘Police!’ he murmured.
    As they went along the landing Garvie complimented Mrs Dow on the tidiness of her house, and she smiled. ‘Mick does it. He can’t bear mess. You won’t believe this,’ she said, ‘but I’m really very messy.’
    Garvie said he didn’t believe it for a moment but unfortunately Mrs Dow was determined to be believed, and though they were only a few paces from Chloe’s room she at once stopped and began to talk in a rambling, emotional way about herself and her husband, apparently the tidiest man in the country. ‘He has a system for everything,’ she told them – for laundry and housework, and even for those ‘awkward little things’ like paying the bills. ‘Would you believe it, he keeps receipts of everything he buys!’
    â€˜I can hardly believe it at all,’ Garvie said. ‘This is Chloe’s room, isn’t it? Shall I just ...?’
    But Mrs Dow had forgotten all about Garvie’s mother’s calculator.
    â€˜He looks after