The Darkening Hour by Penny Hancock Read Free Book Online Page A

name, Theodora.
    I stare at it as it catches the light, wonder how much it is worth. It looks like real gold to me. Solid, precious. I’d like to touch it.
    She says, ‘Goodness. Hmmm. You’ve cleaned the windows!’
    ‘Shall I clean the house now? Today?’
    ‘Yes. But you’re here to look after Daddy first.’
    ‘And shall I cook?’
    ‘Thank you, no need,’ she says. ‘Leo likes to eat at seven, but I’ll use the microwave. You can put the recycling out. It goes in there.’ She waves at some enormous
plastic bins beside the garden fence outside the window. ‘And you must take the wheelie bins out on a Wednesday night. Daddy needs breakfast, however. You should have done that before the
room. He can’t wait, the house can. He needs help with his toilet. Then you can take him out to the market, or for a walk by the river. He prefers the wheelchair. He tires easily.’
    ‘I won’t forget Charles.’
    ‘And here’s some money. You must look after it for him. He gets muddled about what he spends.’ She hands me a note, ten pounds. ‘When I’ve more time we’ll
discuss money: when I’m to pay you, what you’ll need for shopping and so on. Now you’re here I can cancel the delivery! Thank goodness. They’re always out of what I need.
And the substitutes! Last week they brought fabric conditioner when I’d ordered a lemon. The only thing they had in common was the scent!’ she laughs.
    My heart races as she hands me the money. I think of the hours of credit this will buy.
    ‘Get him clementines. Any change, give it to me this evening.’ ‘Yes.’
    ‘Daddy will have a sleep after lunch and then you can clean. I’ll show you how to use the washing machine.’
    She goes to the door, turns. ‘Oh, one other thing, Mona.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Your headscarf. It’s fine to wear it out on the street – I understand it’s your religion. But in the house – it might startle Daddy.’
    And she leaves.

CHAPTER NINE
    ‘Bye, Daddy.’ I bend down and kiss the cool loose flesh of his cheek. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to leaving him in someone else’s care.
    ‘Be a doll and buy me a paper before you go, will you?’ He looks up, takes my hand in his.
    ‘Daddy, Mona’s here to do that for you today.’
    It’s like leaving a child at playgroup for the first time, accepting that another adult must stand in your shoes. Not allowing your child to see it’s as hard for you as it is for
them. Keeping quiet when you see your status as the centre of their world fade, another taking your place. It’s hard but necessary. I can no longer leave Daddy unattended all day. I want him
to understand that it’s Mona’s job now, to get him his meals, to fetch him his paper.
    But when I’ve torn myself away, to hurry along the High Street towards the river, I feel light. Daddy’s being looked after! I can switch off, concentrate on work. It’s market
day. Stallholders, wrapped up against the cold in scarves and fingerless mittens, are setting up. There’s the scent of fried breakfasts wafting from cafés, mingling with the constant
stench round here of the market debris that’s left to rot. It occurs to me that now I’ve got Mona, I could leave early, stop for a coffee in Greenwich on my way – I don’t
frequent the cafés on the High Street, with their dubious hygiene. But not this morning. This morning I’m eager to hear the latest on the chat show that’s being discussed –
a potential promotion for me.
    I get to the corner and turn along the river path to the pier. I think of Max. Check for texts. Wonder when I might next see him. It’s going to be so much easier now!
    Last time it had all gone horribly wrong. It was over three weeks ago when a text arrived on my way home from work.
    Arrived early at St Pancras. Get here soon! I’ll book us a room.
    My body responded, as it always did when I heard from him, as if Max was right here, now. There wasn’t the usual time I’d spend preparing