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The Uninvited

The Uninvited

The Uninvited

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Belinda’s eye line shifts. ‘Anyway,Hesketh. Perhaps we should saygoodbye.’ I turn round: Freddy has enteredthe room, his hair ruffled, yawning.Belinda flashes her teeth in an unlikelysmile and uses a new voice, louder thanbefore, to say, ‘So, Hesketh. Ashok maycall you later. He’s working from hometoday.’ With another sidelong glance atFreddy she adds, ‘Good luck witheverything on the home front,’ beforeswitching herself off.On ‘the home front’ the boy is tired andgrumpy. I ask him if he wants to go back tobed for a couple more hours. No, he wantsto eat, he says. He wants porridge. Healso wants eggs. Scrambled. While I makethe porridge – the habitual movements of

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