Page 33 of Glasshouses

“Shall I have a look for it?”

“If you will. My legs feel like jelly.”

I went back into the hall, noticing Lachy talking to who I figured was a neighbour. Lily’s phone was on the bottom stair, face down. I picked it up, clicking the side button so it woke up. The background photo was of a garden and there were no notifications.

“Here you are.” I passed it to her.

“Thank you.” She busied herself typing for a minute and then put her phone next to her on the chair. “What happens now?”

“Jenna – the CSI – does a check and sees if she can find anything that the person who threw it might have dropped. We’ll need to take your prints for elimination purposes – did you touch the brick?”

She shook her head. “I knew not to touch it. There was paper wrapped round it though.”

“We’ll see if that’s got anything on it. Can you think of anyone who might want to target you? A work rival, or a client who might be unhappy?”

Lily sat still for a few seconds, not answering straight away. “No. Really I can’t. My clients have all been happy and I get along with my business competitors. If a client wants a certain sort of design and it’s not something I have an interest in doing, I refer onto someone else, and likewise, they do the same. I really can’t think of anyone.”

“What about someone you were in hospital with?”

She shook her head, adamant. “They wouldn’t know where to find me and it’s not as if we were friends in there. You might think I’m mad, but some of the others were - ” She shook her head slower this time.

“Insane?” It wasn’t a word I chose to use, not frequently anyway, but I wasn’t sure what Lily knew about me.

She looked away from me, but it felt posed. “I have a very small world, Detective. I have the people who help me to look after myself and a few people I’ve met through my business.”

“That sounds lonely.” Although I wasn’t sure I was any less lonely, really.

Her smile was wan. “I don’t know what it’s like not to be lonely.”

“Has it been difficult since you came out of hospital?” I already knew the answer to that.

“At first it was freedom. I could eat when I wanted and what I wanted; I could go in whatever rooms I wanted and explore places I’d never been. I went to Manchester for the first time – I wasn’t allowed to go when I was a kid. I haven’t been to London yet or abroad. I want to go and see the botanical gardens in Singapore but I don’t know if it will ever happen.” She turned round to the kitchen door, a noise disrupting her thoughts. “I’m not responsible for the fire that killed my mother.”

“We need to work out who threw the brick through your window, Lily.” I pulled us back to the present.

“Do you have a suspect for the fire?”

“We’re following different lines of enquiry.” I gave the standard response for we don’t really have a clue.

She stood up, heading around to the kitchen door where Jenna was emerging from. “Will I need a new window?” she said as Jenna came through.

“You will. We’ll get it boarded up for now, but you’ll need to contact a glazier or window company to get it fixed.” Jenna looked at me, her expression one I recognised.

I stood up and headed over to her, glancing at Lily. “How about I make us a cup of tea?”

“I could do it.” Her arms moved dramatically as she pointed to the kitchen then didn’t know what to do with them; she was awkward, uncomfortable and I wondered how on earth she’d managed to cope with the life she now had after spending most of her life institutionalised.

“Just for now I’d like to minimise the number of people in here, if that’s okay, Lily,” Jenna said. “I’ll be finished soon and I’ll tidy up what I can.”

Lily sat back down, picking up her phone. “Thank you.” That quiet voice again that reminded me of a little girl.

I went into the kitchen, Jenna shaking her head at me as I gestured for shoe covers. She walked straight outside, beckoning me to follow her.

The garden was immaculate, even though it was small, it’d been structured with grasses and huge plants I didn’t recognise to make it feel much bigger, somehow.

“The missile’s come from over there.” Jenna pointed to the top of a six foot fence panel, mainly obscured with grasses that sounded like water as the breeze blew through them. “They’ve gotten up to the top of the fence and lobbed half a brick through the window. Good aim. But get this,” she pointed to a bagged brick, tagged already. “There’s a note wrapped round it.”

“What does it say?”