I went upstairs and outside, knelt down by the window and stretched across the gap to swipe away the webs strewn with debris, fragments of curled leaf, scraps of paper and seeds. I wiped the dust and rain marks from the pane. By then I was running with sweat and trembling with exhaustion.
I put the cleaning stuff back, washed my hands and sat down to rest. I was hungry. Feed a cold and starve a fever. I felt as though I’d got both but there was no contest, appetite won out. I couldn’t taste the sandwich I made myself back home but it stopped the growling in my belly. I napped on the sofa for an hour and felt human once more.
I called Sergeant Bell again. She was still busy. I wasn’t content to leave yet another message. I asked whether I could speak to Inspector Crawshaw. He was busy. I could leave a message.
‘Is there anyone who can give me some information?’
‘Concerning?’
‘Jimmy Achebe. Is he still in custody? Have any charges been brought?’
‘You could try the Press Office.’ He gave me the number. It was busy.
Instead, I called Agnes to find out the latest. Lily had not been very well when she’d visited. She’d had a high temperature that they were concerned about and they suspected an infection. She was asleep all the time that Agnes was there. Agnes was worried. ‘At our age these sort of things can be so much harder to shake off.’
‘I am sorry. Any news from Charles?’
‘Yes. He’s spoken to Mr Simcock again. There’s no reason to suspect there’s any connection between the operation and the infection. Apparently just being in hospital increases the risk. He said they’ll be concentrating on trying to fight that off using antibiotics. But even if she gets over all this she’s never going to be well. You know, the scan showed substantial changes in her brain.’ I could hear the desolation in her voice. She cleared her throat. ‘There’s very little they can do now. All we can expect is a steady decline.’
‘Will she go back to Kingsfield?’
‘I’m not sure. Charles got the impression they were thinking of one of the nursing homes where they specialise in caring for patients with Alzheimer’s. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I suppose I’ve got the proof I wanted about Lily’s condition: they’ve definite physical evidence of what’s wrong. Now I need to accept it. It’s not going to go away. I just hope she can shake off this infection.’
‘Do you want to see her tonight? I could give you a lift.’
‘You don’t sound very well,’ she said doubtfully.
‘No, I’m all right. Just this cold. I’ll come about six.’