Surely there was a rational explanation for all this; perhaps the estate agent had employed a cleaner to get the house ready for their return from the Lakes.Yes, that must be it. A cleaner.Deep down inside him, where he wrestled with demons, the truth fought to be heard. There was no cleaner, and the agent knew nothing about whoever had parked their filthy little car on his drive.Robert paused at the outer door to the porch, taking a breath and adjusting his footing. For some reason it seemed important to solidify his grip on the world, and he curled his toes inside his shoes as if he were trying to grasp the dirt through the thin leather soles. He’d started using this technique when Sarah was in the hospital. He found it helped root him into the moment.He reached inside his pocket and grasped the set of keys he had been carrying since taking possession of the house. On it were keys for the front porch, the inner front door, the back and side doors, and the garage, which was situated at the back of the main building.
