Stuart James - Apartment 6

Near the top of the stairs from sheer force of habit she extended her leg and stepped across the third step from the top.

She stood on the upstairs landing, then went to the bedroom and placed her hand on the door. It creaked as she pushed slowly, causing her to jolt and grind her teeth.

Meagan stood motionless.

The light to the bedroom was off, the bed was empty.

Meagan had to ring Oliver. She thought about the call log, and how easily it could be traced. At that moment, she didn’t care. She raced down the stairs, got her phone from her handbag and quickly returned to the bedroom.

She dialled Oliver’s number, and he picked up after the third ring.

‘Did you do what we planned?’ she asked.

Oliver paused. She wondered if he was irritated by her call. ‘Meagan. Yes, of course I’ve done it. Do you know how fucking shit I feel at this second?’

‘Look, we’ll deal with that later. Come over, now, quickly.’ She hung up without waiting for his response.

Oliver arrived thirty minutes later. Meagan was waiting for him in the hall. He watched as she stood, gripping her hair, her frustration evident.

‘Where is he, Oliver?’

‘He’s in the bedroom upstairs.’

Meagan looked at him, watching his fearful expression and the agitation in his body. He was unable to keep still and shuffled from one leg to the other.

‘Show me!’ Meagan demanded, her voice louder and more shrill than she’d expected.

Oliver led her upstairs. As he opened the bedroom door and flicked on the light, Meagan stood behind him. They both peered across at an empty bed.

Meagan looked at her phone, suddenly seeing a voicemail alert. She played it on loudspeaker. ‘Meagan. It’s Rob. Look, something’s come up, I won’t be home this afternoon as planned. It’s important I stay for another day. I’ll catch a flight in the morning. See you then.’

Meagan spun round, looking at Oliver. ‘Who the fuck did you kill?’

Meagan woke, thinking about the dream she’d had the night before.

The curtains in her bedroom were open, the light shining through the window. The rain had cleared, but the sky was overcast, patches of blue trying to push through.

Meagan lifted herself off the bed and listened at the bedroom door. She could hear her father shifting in his room across the landing. She gauged what kind of a mood he was in this morning. Occasionally he’d whistle to himself; that was good. Other times, he raised his voice, talking on the phone, puffing sharp breaths; that wasn’t so good and it was best to keep out of his way. This morning his bedroom door was open. Meagan watched as he fixed his brown tie, slipping into a dark jacket, combing cream through his hair.

He looked at Meagan. ‘Morning, did you sleep well?’

She wanted to close the door and never open it again. ‘Uh huh.’

He sprayed cologne on his hands and rubbed them on his face, fixing his tie again.

‘Why do people wear ties, Daddy? They’re weird.’

‘You need your breakfast. Hurry up now.’

Meagan opened the door wider, passing her mother’s room. She was thrilled to find her in the bed, sitting up, propped on a couple of pillows.

‘Mummy. Where did you go? I’m so happy you’re home.’ She raced across the bedroom floor, leaping on the bed.

‘Easy now.’ Her mother winced. Meagan noticed dirt marks under her nails, like she’d been clawing through mud. Her feet were black, poking out from under the sheet and she had scratch marks on her forearms.

‘It’s so good to see you, Mummy. I thought you’d gone away forever. I looked all over.’

Tricia reached out, pulling her daughter closer. ‘I have a surprise.’

‘What is it, Mummy? Tell me.’

‘Well, Mr and Mrs Tunney have invited us for a barbecue at Sarah’s house. Won’t that be nice?’

Meagan peered into her father’s room, dropping her voice to a whisper. ‘Daddy doesn’t like us going there. I thought he hated Sarah.’

‘Oh Meagan, don’t be silly. Anyway, Daddy’s car broke down this morning, so Mr Tunney helped get it going and invited us over.’ Tricia laughed. ‘He couldn’t say no, now could he? Go and wash, then I’ll get us something to eat.’

‘You need to wash too, Mummy. What happened? Did you sleep in a pit or something?’

Meagan watched her mother turn away as the colour drained from her face. ‘Please, Meggy, go and wash. Enough with the questions, young lady.’

Just after midday, Meagan’s father returned. He had been out for most of the morning. His mood had become more serious, and his face more troubled.

Meagan and Tricia waited patiently while Sean went upstairs to the bathroom to freshen up. He returned a few minutes later, his face beaming, and Tricia struggled to read his state of mind.

The three of them walked across the road together. Tricia wore a summer dress. Sean had donned a pair of short jeans, trainers and a loose white T-shirt. Meagan wore a plain yellow dress.

Sarah was waiting at the front door, waving overexcitedly.

Meagan glanced at her mother, who nodded in approval and let her daughter run across the road.

Mr Tunney came into view, lifting Sarah and swinging her round at the door. Meagan felt a tad envious, wishing her father would do the same thing to her.

They greeted each other at the front door. Sean thanked Mr Tunney again for fixing his car that morning and the invite. ‘God knows I can do with some downtime. It’s been pretty hectic lately; work, family. You know how it is.’

Mr Tunney reached out, placing an arm around Sean, greeting Tricia with a kiss on the cheek and a sly eye roll as if to acknowledge the self-centred remark.

The girls hugged awkwardly, then disappeared into the garden to play with the guinea pig.

Although still overcast, the day had significantly brightened. Everyone was in good spirits, drinking, chatting and enjoying being together outside.

Tricia heard Sean talking to Mr Tunney about the horses, explaining how to place a bet, an accumulator, a tenfold and how he often got tips from the stables, claiming he knew someone who knew someone who worked with a trainer. Yeah, right.

She watched Mr Tunney, a gentleman as always, listening intently, never moving his eyes from Sean as he spoke, holding his wife’s hand and making sure everyone had drinks. His social skills were incredible. He always said the right thing, always cared for the people around him. He reminded Tricia of a head teacher; authoritative, trustworthy and reliable. He also spent time with his daughter and listened to her. That was his most impressive attribute. He listened.

Tricia stared at her husband, watching how well he interacted, how confident he was, and how genuine he seemed. If only they knew.

As Sean opened another bottle of beer, Meagan came racing over. ‘Daddy, please can we get a guinea pig? Sarah says they are so easy to look after. Please, Daddy?’

He laughed, assuring his daughter it would never happen. Tricia changed the subject, talking to Mrs Tunney about the school that the girls attended.

Meagan was pulling at her father’s arm, pleading for a pet.

Sean spoke over her, sounding embarrassingly loud.

‘Daddy. Can I please? Please, Daddy?’

He leant forward and shoved his daughter. Everyone watched her stumble backwards, her right arm breaking her fall.

She was crying. Tricia jumped up, going over to make sure her daughter was okay. She looked towards her husband with venom in her eyes. ‘Sean, really, did you have to do that?’

Sarah came over, concerned for her friend, helping her to stand.

Sean stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. ‘Guinea pig! Fucking guinea pig. Is that all you lot can think about for Christ’s sake?’