‘I don’t need a lot of space,’ Dominga insisted. ‘I got nothin’. I’ve been living on the street.’
Hannah sighed, knowing it was true. ‘But I think it’s a little unfair for you to get settled in here. Did you see that the house is for sale?’
‘I saw the sign.’
‘So, before you know it, you might have to move out.’
Dominga looked at her, vaguely puzzled. ‘I’m not planning on stayin’ forever. Everything’s temporary in my life.’
Hannah hesitated. ‘I think Frank may have been a little misleading . . .’
‘Can I see the room?’
Hannah looked at her with a level gaze. ‘He told you not to pay attention if I tried to say no, didn’t he?’
Dominga feigned innocence. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Hannah sighed, touched by their collusion on her behalf.
‘Can I see it?’
‘You go on up,’ Hannah said. ‘I’m still recovering from the trip downstairs. It’ll take me ten minutes to get back up that staircase. The door’s open. It’s the room with the single bed. It used to be my daughter’s room. It’s kind of a small bed really . . .’
Dominga paid no attention. She vaulted up the stairs, two at a time, and disappeared into the apartment.
Hannah leaned against the newel post and listened as Dominga’s combat boots thudded from one room to the other. She didn’t want a roommate in that little space, she thought. She didn’t know what she and this taciturn woman would have to talk about. But despite her intention to face this all alone, the idea of Dominga, a trained soldier, living here, keeping watch, was undeniably comforting. In a matter of moments, Dominga appeared at the top of the stairs and leaned over the third-floor banister.
‘This is a really nice place,’ she said.
‘It’s small.’
‘It’s big enough.’
‘You didn’t even ask the rent,’ said Hannah bemusedly.
‘Frank said that my benefits would cover it.’
‘I’m sure they would,’ Hannah admitted. ‘Since I can’t give you a lease or anything, you can pay by the week. Say . . . fifty bucks?’
‘OK,’ said Dominga. She started to descend the staircase.
‘Wait,’ said Hannah. ‘Before you come down . . . There’s a set of keys hanging on a bulletin board by the door. Take those.’
‘Oh. OK.’ The soldier disappeared back into the apartment and came back jingling the keys out over the staircase. ‘These?’
Hannah nodded.
Dominga tossed them up and caught them again. Then she descended the steps in a gallop. When she got to the bottom, she frowned at Hannah. ‘You’re really busted up, aren’t you?’
‘I’m lucky to be alive,’ said Hannah.
‘So, when should I move in?’
Hannah almost felt like smiling. The young woman asked few questions and seemed unconcerned with any detail. She was carrying out an assignment, Hannah thought. She was doing this for Frank, treating him like a commanding officer. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘Sooner the better,’ said Dominga.
Without any other word of farewell, Dominga went out the door, stuffing the keys in her pocket. Hannah locked the door behind her. She picked up the mail and placed it on the table in the hallway for Isaiah to collect. The phone in Mamie’s part of the house began to ring and she thought about answering it. But then she thought she should not involve herself. There was a machine which would pick up. Isaiah could check the messages when he came by for the mail. Hannah walked to the stairs and put her hand on the newel post. Time to make her way back up. She lifted her foot to the first step, and began to mount the steps to the third floor, resting after every couple of stairs.
She finally arrived at the door, which Dominga had left ajar, and looked ruefully back down the stairs. She probably should have brought her handbag downstairs, and walked out to do a few errands while she was already at the bottom. Too late now. The errands would keep. She had her medications, and food to eat. A book to read. It was enough.
She pushed open the door and went in. It seemed colder than when she had left. She walked over to Sydney’s room and looked inside. How would Dominga like living in that child’s room? Hannah thought maybe she would take down some of the posters she had put on the walls, and collect the stuffed animals off the bed. She could put them in the closet. There were a couple of framed watercolors in the hall closet she had bought at a flea market, intending to hang them in the apartment to make it more homey. She could put them up in Sydney’s room for the time being, just to cover the space and make it look more welcoming. The closet was practically empty. There would be plenty of room for Dominga’s clothes, which seemed to consist of camouflage pants, combat boots, T-shirts and sweatshirts. Maybe only one of each, Hannah thought. The young woman needed a place to call home. That was for sure. Maybe this would work out well for both of them.
Hannah gathered up a couple of the stuffed animals. I’ll keep them on my bed, she thought. Make it a little less lonely. She walked out of the room, holding them to her chest. She went down the short hall to her bedroom and set them on the bed, up against the pillows. She stepped back to see how they looked there.
‘Hello, Mother,’ said a voice behind her.
Hannah cried out and whirled around. Dressed in black, Lisa sat