Fourteen Days by Steven Jenkins Page A

yet?” he asked, eating his corn flakes on the couch as Nicky ironed a shirt.
    She didn’t look up. “Of course I am,” she replied.
    “Then say something,” he said, unsure if the knot in his stomach was from the fight or Mrs. Rees.
    Most likely Mrs. Rees.
    She continued to iron. “I just did, didn’t I?”
    Getting up, he placed his bowl on the coffee table, and then walked over to her. “Look, I’m sorry I got mad yesterday, I was just…”
    Her ironing became faster and harder. “It doesn’t matter now.”
    “Yes it does matter,” he said, putting a hand on her arm to stroke it. “I hate when we’re like this.”
    She rested the iron facing upwards. “Look, I’m sorry too. I just don’t like it when you call me stupid. It’s not nice, Rich. And all this ghost business is doing my head in. It’s got to stop.”
    “I’m sorry I called you stupid; I didn’t mean it. But I didn’t ask for any of this to happen. I’ve seriously been finding the last week unbearable. I saw something in the kitchen and in the bathroom. And the smoke detectors did all go off yesterday. I understand that it’s hard to accept that our house is haunted, but that’s what happened—like it or not. And when I told you about the smoke detector the other day, you told me that it’s probably faulty, and that it would only be weird if all three went off. Well, now all three have gone off.”
    She gave a subtle nod. “Yes, I know I said that, but I take it back. I’ve lived in this house just as long as you have, and I’ve spent much more time alone here than you, and I haven’t so much as heard a creaky floorboard, let alone seen a bloody ghost. So don’t be too surprised if I have some trouble believing you.” She put her hand up, as if to stop him from talking. “And before you say anything—I’m not accusing you of lying, I just think that there’s a logical explanation. All right?”
    “I told Karen the same thing yesterday, and she said that it’s because your mind isn’t open, and that—”
    “Karen was here yesterday? At the house?”
    “Yeah. I asked her ’round for some advice.”
    “Was this before or after the smoke alarms went off?” she asked, slipping her freshly ironed shirt on.
    “Before—why?”
    She started to fold up the ironing board. “Because she’s been filling your head up with all this nonsense, that’s why.” She put the ironing board into the cupboard. “Look, I love Karen to bits, but all the paranormal, supernatural crap she talks about is a load of rubbish.”
    “It’s not rubbish. The only reason I asked for her advice was because I saw something. And what, you’re telling me that just because I had a chat with her she somehow made me believe that the bloody smoke detectors all went off at the same time? How do you work that one out, Nic?”
    She moved past him, toward the door. “I don’t know, but it’s probably not best if you let her fill your head up with that stuff. It’s only going to make matters worse. And I’m getting sick of it.”
    In astonishment, he watched her leave the room. “You’re the one who told her about the ghost in the first place!” he said as she disappeared from his sight.
    “Yes, you’re right—and I regret it now,” she shouted from the kitchen.
    Annoyed, he walked over to the door and poked his head out into the hallway. “I bet you bloody do.”
    Walking up to him, she kissed him on the cheek. “Look, I’m going to be late for work. I’ll see you later. Let’s just drop this subject.”
    Frustrated, he followed her to the front door. “ Okay , I’ll see you at five then.”
    “Okay, have a good… No you won’t. I forgot, I’m seeing some of the girls tonight after work. I’ll be home late.” She raced out the door and onto the pavement. “See you later!” she said as she crossed over the road.
    Richard was left standing in the doorway, lost for words, still with a million things to say to her. Shaking his head