Writing for Fun
February 2020
Suspicion - Anne Wilson
He turned up one day without warning. No prior invitation, just a ring on the doorbell. She was taken aback.
‘Hello,’ he greeted her. ‘Sorry to trouble you, but I heard you had a room to rent and I wondered if I might stay with you for a while?’
‘I don’t let rooms,’ she said with pride. ‘I’ve never had the need to.’
‘Then you’re a very lucky lady’ he replied. ‘Most people find they need to take in people like me at various times in their lives. May I come in?’
‘You may not. I don’t even know who you are.’
‘He tipped his hat. ‘I’m sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. ‘Perhaps I should introduce myself.’
‘I think that would be a good idea,’ she responded icily.
‘My name is Suspicion,’ he explained, handing her his card. ‘Now will you let me in.’
‘I’m not sure whether I want to,’ she hesitated.
He edged his way through.
‘You know you do,’ he said in a soothing voice. ‘I’ll only stay for as long as you want and I won’t require much in the way of looking after. The odd panacea now and then when you’re feeling down, perhaps. A cup of tea, a box of chocolates – maybe even a whiskey or two.
She relented and then let him in. He paused, admiring the surroundings.
‘It’s very spacious accommodation,’ he said in appreciation. ‘I feel I could be very comfortable here. Sometimes people’s cranium capacity is so small you wouldn’t believe it. I’ve felt so cramped on some occasions that I’ve had to give early notice.’
‘Talking of panaceas. Would you like a cup of tea?, she asked. ‘I was just going to make one.’
‘It’s surprising what a calming influence tannin has,’ her guest commented. ‘I think it’s more to do with the placebo effect, though.’
She thought long and hard as the kettle boiled. Should she voice the poisonous feeling that had been festering within her all day like a boil waiting to be lanced, or should she send her visitor on his way?
‘Come on,’ he cajoled. ‘You know you want to let me stay here. At least until he arrives home. Then you can hide me away and pretend everything’s fine and let me out again tomorrow morning after he’s left for the office.’
Doubt crept into her voice. ‘How do I know I can trust you?’
‘Madam,’ he chided her in a haughty voice. ‘I come from a long line of Suspicions. My father was a Suspicion and his father before him. Now; shall we commence?’
She nodded.
‘You’ve been feeling like this for some time, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, I have but I don’t think I realised it consciously,’ she admitted. ‘It’s been building up until I finally confronted it a few hours ago.’
‘That’s quite normal,’ agreed her visitor in a soothing voice, sipping on his tea. ‘Please continue.’
‘I can’t bear to think it of either of them,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I care about them both so much. I’ve been married to him for such a large part of my life and I’ve known her for even longer. She’s my closest friend and always has been.’
‘It’s very hard,’ came the sympathetic reply. ‘It’s times like this that make me wish that I was anything but a Suspicion.’
She paused. ‘Firstly I caught him texting her and he was very evasive when I challenged him. Then I’ve seen them exchange glances when they think I’m not looking. But the main thing is that someone told me they saw them out together yesterday when he was supposed to be in one place and she was supposed to be in another.’
‘It looks bad,’ agreed her guest. ‘I wonder if we can both come up with a logical explanation?’
‘I’d love to come up with one,’ she said in a trembling voice. ‘Perhaps if I just think a bit harder.’
‘I hesitate to say this,’ he replied, ‘because it’s so hackneyed and makes me feel unworthy of taking up residence in your head – even on a temporary basis – but do you have a big anniversary coming up?’
‘Not a wedding anniversary,’ she replied. ‘But I do have a big birthday in a few weeks’ time. No-one’s said anything about it.’ She grasped the outstretched straw with gratitude. ‘You don’t think, do you ...? she asked. ‘The stolen glances, the furtive arrangements, the texts. Is it because they’re arranging a surprise party?’ She clasped her hands together. Oh, I can’t tell you how relieved I feel.’
He placed his half filled tea cup firmly on the table and stood up.
‘If that’s what you want to think then there’s nothing I can do to stop you but it’s far too glib a conclusion,’ he said huffily. ‘I suppose you’ve had second thoughts now as to whether I’m going to be a suitable tenant. I’m only glad my father and my grandfather aren’t still here to witness my failure.’ He reached for his handkerchief and dabbed his eyes.
‘Please don’t think I’m not grateful,’ she said. ‘It’s not you. It’s me. I just want to see the best in people.’
He left and she sat down and continued to drink her tea, calm and reassured in the knowledge that there was a plausible explanation for the odd behaviour of the two most important people in her life. It was a good feeling and she felt content for the first time in weeks. Suddenly there was a knock on the front door. She was surprised because she wasn’t expecting anyone.
‘Hello,’ said the man standing on her doorstep. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I’ve just run into a friend who told me there was a vacancy here and that I would be the ideal person to fill it. He handed her his card. ‘Don’t be alarmed, dear lady. My name is Gullible and I come from a long line of Gullibles. I have a feeling I’d be very content here – even though I think I may only be here for a short amount of time.