London from My Windows by Mary Carter Page A

go away, but her tongue felt swollen to three times its usual size. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, shrinking by the second. A huge tongue and a shrinking body. “Are you okay?” She gestured to the door. She waited, holding her breath until he inserted the key in the lock. The door sprung open and Ava stumbled in. She dumped the suitcase by the door, turned, and faced the living room. She could breathe again. It was gorgeous. A generous space with light wood floors, cozy furnishings, and three large dome-shaped windows that overlooked London. Best not gaze out quite yet. Look at the décor instead.
    The walls were covered in theater posters. Cluttered, most might say, but these were Aunt Bev’s things and Ava loved it. The sofa and a matching set of chairs looked Victorian. They were red with gold trim. Beverly lived out loud, that was for sure. An Oriental rug covered the floor, there was a piano against the near wall covered in pictures, and books, and plants, and a coffee table was overflowing with various magazines, books, and other objects. Each one would require careful scrutinizing; each one was a little clue, a connection to Ava’s aunt.
    But Ava could take her time with that later. When she was alone. And calmer. What she really wanted was the bedroom. She was exhausted. The Xanax was supposed to last twelve hours, but for her it was more like twelve seconds. A door just beyond the living room was ajar. She headed for it. Sure enough, there was a queen-sized bed. A thick white quilt was draped over it hiding the frame. Ava dropped to her knees and lifted the quilt. Thank God. She could fit. The bathtub was another option, but she was already here. A normal person would wait until Jasper Keyes was gone, but she’d reached her limit. She told him not to come up with her. She crawled underneath the bed. It was dusty. Aunt Beverly had never swept or mopped under the bed. Ava was going to start sneezing. But she couldn’t move. Darkness. Refuge. She practically hugged the floor and marveled as her heart and breath began to slow. She could fall asleep right here. Jasper’s footsteps headed her way. “Ava?”
    He startled her and she inhaled. Dust went up her nose. She sneezed. Shit. Was he still here? Maybe if she was really quiet, he would just go away. If only she had shut the door. Then she could pretend she was taking a nap on top of the bed. But she’d left it wide-open. From the gap between the quilt and the floor she could see his black shoes standing in the doorway. They weren’t polished like she thought a barrister’s shoes would be polished. They were scuffed. He wore them a lot. Or perhaps he only wore them when he was impersonating cabbies. She sneezed again. Darn it. She’d always been a repetitive sneezer.
    â€œAre you all right?” He sounded alarmed.
    â€œI’m just looking for my earring,” Ava said.
    â€œWould you like some help?”
    â€œNo, no, I’m fine.”
    â€œWould you like me to leave?”
    â€œYes, please.”
    He was silent for a moment, then shifted his feet. “I wanted to show you a few odd quirks about the flat.” She was now the oddest quirk in the flat. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Not much of a comedian if he wasn’t. Or he was too polite. Comedians had to be brutal. She’d have to tell him not to quit his job as a barrister. “Ava?”
    â€œAnother time. Please.” He had to go. She wanted to be alone. Take a bath. Sketch. Fall asleep. None of those things were possible with him lurking about the place. Her black sheets were in her luggage, along with a miniature hammer and nails. So many windows in the living room. She might have to pull some sheets from the bed.
    â€œI’m going to leave you some information on the kitchen table. A map of the London Underground, a map of the area, and a note with some basics—food market, pubs, deliveries,