The Cornish Affair by Laura Lockington

around the interior of my Renault which was smothered in seagull poo on the outside and littered with chocolate wrappers on the inside, I was quite glad I hadn’t had to go and meet Oliver. He didn’t seem the sort who would have forgiven the mess very easily.
    I headed up the lane towards Penmorah and wondered if Baxter would make his escape from The Ram and find his way home. Probably not. He’s be spoilt rotten by Sam and all the customers. I soothed my remnants of bad temper by doing a very satisfying handbrake stop, sending gravel flying around me, as I parked outside Penmorah.
    A most unusual smell hit me as I walked in the back door of the house. Chemical. And slightly reminiscent of swimming pools. Bleach. Yes, that was it, definitely. I saw that the normally littered surface of the kitchen table was not only clear of junk, but was gleamingly scraped clean. As was the floor, work surfaces and the cooker. A gaping hole stood in the very fabric of the room, where Nelsons cage and perch had stood. It was odd not being greeted by various barks and screeches when I walked in. Although, if I confess, it was pleasant not having to separate two animals who loathed each other.
    Where was everyone?
    I started to call out, but I heard murmured voices coming from the other end of the house. I tracked them down to the living room, and as I put my hand on the door to push it open, I heard my name being mentioned and I stopped to listen. I know that we’re told as children that eavesdroppers never hear well of themselves, but, be honest, it’s impossible to resist.
    “…but she’s a pussy cat, really she is, one of the only clients I have that I am genuinely friends with,” Harry’s plaintive light voice came floating out to me where I stood transfixed. Me? A pussy cat? That was news to me.
    I heard Oliver make a harrumphing noise.
    “Oh, Fin is a darling ,” Nancy chipped in, loyally.
    “Honestly Oliver, she’s a sweetie, I mean, yes she can be difficult, but you know, I don’t think she’s very happy at the moment. Well, she hasn’t been for some time if I’m honest. I think her parents death knocked her for six, didn’t it Nancy?” Harry continued.
    “But you know Harry, that was a long time ago, and, well, I think she gets lonely here.”
    There was a brief silence and then Oliver spoke up.
    “Were you all very close as a family?”
    “Oh, yes terribly close. Too close, probably. You have to remember that Dorothea, that was my sister, and Michael were the golden couple here, they had everything. Looks, charm, romance…oh, they were so happy. They closed off the rest of the world. They became a self sufficient unit. I mean, obviously they saw other people, you know. But they only really ever had eyes for themselves. Fin grew up in a very hothouse atmosphere, I’m afraid. I tried to talk to them about it, but they wouldn’t listen. Why should they? They thought that their way of life would go on forever, they never thought for one moment that it would all come crashing down around them. Mind you, Michael was always a fool over money – I don’t mean that nastily, although he owed me a considerable sum at one time, but that was a long time ago now.” I heard Nancy sigh, and then she continued.
    “You know, they wouldn’t send Fin to school even, why? Lack of money, or selfishness? I don’t really know. I mean, she got on perfectly well of course without it. What do they learn there nowadays anyway? Nasty hockey and geography! I ask you! Fin used to long to go away with Bea, you know, my, umm, my daughter to her school… but they said no. They never encouraged her to be very friendly with Bea… but that’s old history now. They were all so happy together here. I used to adore staying here, it was lovely…”
    Harry and Oliver made assenting noises.
    This wasn’t true, I felt like screaming. This simply wasn’t true. I had never wanted to go to Bea’s school. It had sounded horrid, she had maths