Dellusions. That's the only thing she could think of- he must've been overworked, or have some underlying history she didn't know about, and then "found out" that his wife was dead. It might explain why he'd had an affair in the first place. It might explain his fashion sense. But there was only one person she really had to inform, as much as she hated it, and that was his wife.
Janet looked up, and there she stood. The infamous Betty. She looked less attractive than she had before, somehow. Maybe Janet's jealousy had made her appear more so at first glance. It looked like she'd put on some lipstick though...
"Is...everything alright?," Betty ventured as she came in.
It wasn't her place to intrude on something like this, and even if Betty believed her to be his sister, she didn't want to make a show of holding the stricken Robert's hand.
Janet got up and went to her.
"Look...Betty, was it? Robert's not feeling great at the moment, and I think that...". She paused, fully ready to launch into the mental health talk.
"That...that which? What's happened?"
Just by the door of their flat, just above the side table which held a bowl of bronze coins and a key hook, there was a mirror. Just a looking glass. Betty had her back to it.
"Sorry...I...," Janet gulped visibly, looking again at Betty. "Sorry, I think there's something on your mouth."
"Oh? What?," Betty grinned, showing her teeth, then quickly pursed her lips. Now she seemed skittish. "Must be pomegranate juice. Me and my health foods". She quickly wiped over her lips with the back of her hand.
Betty blinked, then came back to the sentence.
"Sorry. You were saying? Death?".
She didn't take her eyes off Betty's neck as she spoke next.
"His Mother has died. The funeral is down in London, very soon. I'm afraid he'll have to pack and come with me. Sorry to be...of such short notice."
Robert looked up.
"Now. We have to leave now. So sorry."
Outside, with nothing but a small suitcase and his phone, Janet bundled Robert into her car. Relief tinged with anxiety flooded his system as he looked out of the window, his flat getting smaller and smaller as they drove away from it. He couldn't help but recall Pete's warning.
"And if you leave her, elope with your pretty lady or sunthin', she might sniff you out and kill you."
Janet drove silently, looking a little ill.
"There was blood on her hands, Robert. Blood. We're getting out of here," was all she'd said since they'd left.