That evening, after hastily packaging up a broken transistor radio that I’d auctioned off for a bewildering amount online, I continued into the second notebook. I read of her delight in becoming pregnant, caught a whiff of worry once the midwife told her to prepare for twins. The list of jobs done shrank as days became consumed with getting ready for her babies: knitting, decorating, scrimping and saving. She sewed nappies and sheets, sold her mother’s jewellery to buy a cot large enough for two, drank each night the half-pint of stout the doctor recommended.
Slept, ate, slept even more.
And then, Isobel:
Isobel Anne Meadows born at home. S. at the Red Lion so no time for hospital.
5lb 1oz. She is healthy.
The boy died. I called him Thomas.
In three lines, everything changed.
I shut the notebook and spent the rest of the evening watching stupid videos of pets online.
They failed to shift the boulder of granite sitting in my chest, but at least helped muffle the sound of my weeping heart.
* * *
When I arrived back from school the following day to find a car in front of the house, I initially assumed it was more Freecyclers. However, as I walked closer, a man stepped out from behind a broken wardrobe, wearing a hard hat and holding a clipboard.
‘Ah. Are you the owner of the property?’
‘Yes.’
‘Darren Smith. Environmental Health.’ He held out a hand. I shook it for the shortest length of time possible.
‘Oh.’
‘Want to know why I’m here?’ he asked, with a cheery grin.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Well, legally I have to tell you.’ He rolled his eyes, as if to say, ‘Silly old laws!’
I waited until he’d cleared his throat, tapping his pen on the clipboard a few times. ‘A concerned citizen contacted us about the waste accumulation, pest hazard and general disrepair of your property. Somebody is worried you’re going to do yourself a mischief.’
‘Who?’
‘Well, me, for starters.’ He chuckled.
‘Who contacted you?’
‘I’m not at liberty to say. But…’ he screwed up his face as if talking to a small child ‘… they do have a point.’
‘I’m clearing out my grandmother’s house. She had a lot of stuff. I’m selling what I can, and either recycling the rest or offering it up on Freecycle, but that takes time. Once I’m down to just the rubbish no one wants I’ll hire a skip and move it all out in one go.’
‘Yes, I completely understand and that’s no problem at all, as long as it’s all gone in the next seven days.’
‘What?’
‘You have seven days to clear the outside of the property and restore it to what I deem to be an acceptable standard. Now, if you don’t mind. Well, whether you mind or not, I need to inspect internally.’
‘Why?’ I tried to summon up New, Kickass Jenny from where she’d hidden behind my pale, lily-coloured liver. ‘Do you have a warrant?’
‘I have all the required documentation.’ He flipped over the top sheet on the clipboard and waved it under my nose.
‘Why do you need to inspect it internally? It’s not affecting anyone else.’
