“Lily wants Sunday gone so that it can be Monday, so that she can talk to the policewoman and the key-cutter and the people at Carl’s office. All she can do today is try this number. The phone belonging to Carl’s mother rings and rings and rings. There is no answerphone to break up the agonising incessancy of it. It just keeps on ringing until it runs out of rings and then the line clicks off scornfully, as if it’s saying: For Christ’s sake, there’s no one here, can’t you take a hint? As Lily si...ts with the phone cradled beneath her chin pressing redial, redial, redial, she builds up a mental image of the woman who is not answering her phone. She has dark hair, like Carl, and his sharp cheekbones; she looks young for her age, is wearing maybe a silky blouse and tailored trousers. Again, she wonders, why does she not know what her husband’s mother looks like? Why did she never ask? Why are there no photographs in this flat? Who is this man she married? What is she doing here?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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