The neighbour, p.6
The Neighbour, page 6
‘Definitely,’ I replied, watching relief spread across Lauren’s features.
Despite my answer, she remained quiet on the way back, deep in thought.
As we entered the close, Teddy headed straight for the green and the beech tree, pulling me along.
Derek was drying his freshly washed car with a cloth, buffing it to a perfect shine. I smiled and waved, surprised when he walked over to join us.
‘Hello, Shelly, and who might this be?’ He beamed down at Lauren, and I remembered him telling me he used to be the headmaster of a primary school. You could tell he had a way with kids as Lauren introduced herself and Teddy, answering all Derek’s questions about the dog as he lowered himself onto one knee to pet him. I looked on, smiling, and Derek winked as he got to his feet.
‘Do you miss it? Being at school?’ I asked Derek.
‘Of course he does, silly,’ Lauren said knowingly before chasing Teddy around the tree.
Derek raised his wayward eyebrows. ‘Out the mouths of babes, eh?’ he chuckled.
‘Did the person who lived at number three before me have children?’ I asked, thinking about the message in the airing cupboard and who the author could be.
‘No, she wasn’t here long.’ Derek paused before continuing, ‘She had a dog though,’ he volunteered.
Had Valerie driven her out because she’d had a dog? The idea was absurd; the woman, whoever she was, could have left for any number of reasons and I didn’t believe it was because of victimisation from her elderly neighbour.
‘Well, it’s lovely to see you again, Derek. I better get these two inside for breakfast.’
Derek gave me a nod and waved as he headed back to his car. His friendliness lifted my spirits; if only he lived next door, he’d be the perfect neighbour.
‘There was me thinking you’d have a cooked breakfast ready,’ I chided Josh when we came through the front door. He was still on the sofa, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘I cooked dinner last night, you cheeky minx, what more do you want.’
‘Some wife you turned out to be,’ I retorted, winking at Lauren, who giggled, used to mine and Josh’s banter.
I put the kettle on and told Josh about the wind chime as Lauren fed Teddy his kibble. He rubbed at the crick in his neck from sleeping on a sofa too small for his heavy frame. Trying to fold his enormous body onto a small three-seater that was not made for sleeping on.
‘What are you doing today?’ I asked Josh as we sipped steaming hot coffee.
‘Like I don’t do the same thing every Sunday?’ Josh pulled a face.
‘Mum’s roast, of course. I forgot it was Sunday for a second there.’
‘Not all of us have two weeks off work, you lucky thing. You could always come with me, you know. Mum would love to see you, and Lauren of course.’ Josh eyed me expectantly, but before I could speak, Lauren cut in.
‘I want to go around the green later on my scooter.’
‘I’m probably going to spend the day finishing unpacking, getting things straight, you know,’ I said, apologetically.
‘Oh sure, of course.’ He waved me away.
‘I’ll text you about Ikea though,’ I said, reminding him of our plan for one day next week.
‘Definitely, let me know.’
I toasted crumpets for breakfast and made sure Josh ate before he left, thanking him for all of his help yesterday. Once he’d gone, I unpacked anything we hadn’t already got to. There wasn’t too much, and after a couple of hours I had a neat stack of packing boxes on the driveway to return to the movers. My office had piles of files and software on the carpet. The laptop left in the corner, where the desk was going to go. Having my own office was going to be a luxury and I had visions of the shelves I’d put up, the pretty pinboards and storage boxes. Somewhere I wouldn’t be embarrassed to switch on my camera for a meeting over Zoom. Hopefully it would be somewhere to inspire.
The office overlooked the back garden, a pleasant view of tall sycamore trees shot up from the abandoned railway line. I could also see into Valerie’s garden. She was on her knees turning over the soil of a flower bed. Teddy and I had barely been in the garden since I’d found the chocolate. I was waiting for her to cool off before risking antagonising her again.
Lauren made me hang some photos in her room, mostly of us, two of Teddy. I displayed her most recent school photo downstairs on the fireplace and hung the canvas over the mantelpiece with tough sticky pads so I wouldn’t have to mark the freshly painted walls. I’d brought a couple of cushions and a throw with us, draping it on the sofa. With some of our trinkets on show, the place was more homely than yesterday. I had a list as long as my arm of what I needed to buy, but Mum’s money remained untouched in her bank account, other than what I’d used to pay the rent up front on number three Beech Close. It was more money than I’d ever had access to before, Mum had been squirrelling it away for years, spending only what she had to. We’d lived on a shoestring budget, with her counting every penny. However, it didn’t feel like mine to spend. I was the only family she had, but it felt wrong to take something I hadn’t earned, something Mum wouldn’t have given willingly.
13
‘Can I go outside on my scooter now?’ Lauren asked.
‘Put on a cardigan first,’ I replied, knowing it wasn’t warm enough for the T-shirt and leggings Lauren had chosen to wear. The sun had come out as promised, but the air was still cool.
Outside, I grabbed the flattened boxes I’d leant against the house and tucked them neatly between the bin and the hedge, hoping it wouldn’t rain before they could be collected.
Lauren whizzed around the pavement, the wheels of her yellow scooter rattling on the concrete. Beech Close was quiet, the Sunday early-afternoon lull perfect for a long walk or curling up on the sofa with a book. I swept the driveway to keep myself occupied whilst keeping an eye on Lauren, then emptied out the rubbish which had accumulated in my car.
When I’d finished, Lauren showed no signs of wanting to come in. Round and round she went, slowing when she got to Derek’s house as if hoping he’d come outside and entertain her again. It was times like that I felt guilty she was an only child. It was sad Sebastian hadn’t stuck around long enough to give me another child, or even be a father. Although being a single parent was hard enough with one, let alone two, and I knew now that Sebastian never intended to make an honest woman of me.
He’d made no effort to contact Lauren and build a relationship, sending money through every six months or so until she was around six and then it stopped altogether. I assumed he’d had another family to feed, conveniently forgetting about his first child. He had changed his number and moved out of the area. To be honest, I was glad not to bump into him. Despite the lack of maintenance, I believed we’d got off lightly. He would have been the type to promise Lauren the world and not deliver. This way, her heart wouldn’t get repeatedly broken when he didn’t show up to collect her or if he forgot her birthday.
Pushing Sebastian from my mind, I loitered on the driveway, not wanting to leave Lauren outside by herself. Visions of her being thrown into a white van and on the motorway in minutes plagued me. I always had to keep her in sight, keep her safe. As I repositioned the bin, I noticed the small box of junk Josh had brought down from the loft. I hadn’t paid much attention to the contents, but as I had nothing better to do while Lauren circled the close, I sat on the doorstep and rooted through.
Inside was a folded local newspaper from the first week of November last year, the front page showing pictures taken from the local Shocktober Fest at Tulley’s Farm, where residents paid for an evening of Halloween scares. It wasn’t obvious as to why it had been kept and I scanned the photos on the front and names beneath, although nothing jumped out at me.
I reached inside the box to see what else there was, pulling out a battered copy of The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks, which looked like it had been a favourite read. I ran my thumb over the pages, skimming the edge, when a slip of paper fell out of the middle into my lap. I turned it over in my hands, a receipt from the local pet shop. A 2.5kg bag of Canagan adult dog food had been purchased on the tenth of December. I slipped the receipt back inside the book and returned it to the box, this time retrieving a hand-knitted bright orange scarf coiled at the bottom. Wrapped inside was a small blank envelope which contained a photo of a couple. A woman had her head resting on the shoulder of a man outside a fountain. Both of them smiling into the camera, squinting in the sun. She was pretty, blonde hair in tight corkscrew curls, her smile was wide and infectious. The man’s grin wasn’t as sincere, and it looked like he was about to roll his eyes when the photo was taken. He had his arm loosely around the woman’s waist, black sunglasses rested on top of his shaven head. At the bottom of the envelope was a necklace, a silver infinity symbol on a delicate chain, the clasp broken. I put them both to the side.
The last item in the box was a man’s watch, dark spots stained the tan leather strap, which looked suspiciously like blood or maybe oil. It was a strange array of items to keep hold of. Had they been left behind by the last occupant? Had the owner of number three Beech Close boxed them up with the intention of forwarding them on and perhaps not got around to it? Puzzled, I turned my attention back to Lauren, who I could no longer see nor hear from the doorstep.
Jumping up, I jogged to the end of the driveway, relief flooding through me when I spotted her the other side of the beech tree. She was talking to a man I assumed was Derek, but as I got closer, off the driveway and across the road, I didn’t recognise him at all. The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention and I quickened my pace, trying to catch what my daughter was saying to this stranger.
‘Excuse me, can I help you,’ I said, rounding the tree to find my daughter handing the man a daisy chain she’d made.
‘This is Finn,’ she smiled at me, her face a picture of innocence.
The man, a sandy-haired stocky unit who was easily twice the size of me smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry, yes, I’m Finn. Lauren was telling me you’ve moved into number three.’
I continued to frown at him, folding my arms across my chest.
‘I’m Niamh’s husband,’ he explained, his voice throaty. My cheeks coloured – of course, we hadn’t met at the drinks she’d organised.
‘Sorry, yes, you were working when Niamh invited me over. I’m Shelly,’ I said, softening my voice.
‘Welcome to Beech Close,’ he said, as if it was a prepared statement for whoever entered the cul-de-sac. It amused me, as though I was being ordained into a cult.
‘Shelly, hi!’ Niamh strode over, a shawl over her shoulders, silver earrings swinging from her ears. I almost did a double take. She’d tried to cover it with make-up, but it was obvious Niamh had a black eye. The whites around her sky-blue eyes looked bloodshot, especially the bruised one.
‘We’re off to Tenerife for a few days, getting away before Easter, you know.’ She saw me staring and looked away, fussing with her hair.
I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. What would I say? I hardly knew her well enough to pry.
‘Are you going on a plane?’ Lauren asked, twiddling the daisy chain Finn had given back to her.
‘We are,’ Finn replied.
‘I haven’t been on one,’ Lauren said, grimacing, and my face flushed again.
‘We will, poppet. Now we don’t have to look after Nanny, we can go wherever you like,’ I said, trying to convey it was circumstances as opposed to money as to why Lauren hadn’t yet been abroad.
It was a lie. We hadn’t had enough for a weekend in Worthing, let alone a trip to the Canary Islands. I hadn’t paid rent living with Mum but contributed to the bills and the food, and I’d managed to save a little, even with the reduced hours I was working. Mum had taken up almost all of my time when I wasn’t with Lauren. It was cheap living but had come at the cost of our sanity at times. Now we did have the money for a holiday. Perhaps we’d go Whitsun half-term for a week ahead of the summer rush. I could book something as a surprise and whisk Lauren away. The idea already formulating in my mind.
‘Oh I’m sorry, that must have been hard,’ Niamh said, linking her arm through Finn’s, her expression one of genuine sympathy, which made my throat tighten.
Before I could speak, Lauren piped up.
‘She had a bell, and she would ring and ring and ring and ring…’ she explained, shaking her head for dramatic effect, so Finn laughed despite himself.
‘That’s enough, Lauren. Niamh and Finn have got a plane to catch. We don’t want to keep them.’ I pulled Lauren into me, squeezing her tight to distract her from volunteering too much information. I still found it difficult to talk about Mum.
‘Yes we better be off. Lovely to meet you finally,’ Finn said, already turning away, his arm around Niamh’s shoulders, maybe a little too tightly.
‘You too. Oh and thanks again for the drinks, Niamh, really lovely of you to invite me to meet everyone,’ I called to their retreating backs.
‘Any time. You’re one of us now,’ she called over her shoulder, her voice as cold as a winter’s morning.
14
Niamh’s words played on my mind all afternoon, not to mention her black eye. I didn’t want to be one of them. Whatever that was? Her phrase seemed innocent enough, but her tone had an edge to it. One I couldn’t put my finger on. The residents of Beech Close had been welcoming. I’d met all of them within two days of moving in, most of them friendly with the exception of Valerie, but perhaps it was to be expected since Becky had enlightened me on her condition and Teddy had crapped on her lawn before we’d even been introduced.
According to Derek, the woman before me hadn’t lived in the house for long. I guessed it was her belongings in the loft. The receipt for dog food supporting my theory. Derek said she had no children but did have a dog. Was she the one who had scratched LEAVE NOW into the wall of the airing cupboard? But why?
Curiosity plagued me – why had the previous resident moved on? Had she been hounded out by Valerie? If she had, why would she leave her scarf and necklace behind? The contents of the box, which I’d brought back inside on returning to the house didn’t feel like lost items. They felt like keepsakes, and the idea, however ridiculous, made my stomach churn.
Once Lauren was in bed, much more settled since discovering the wind chime was the source of the noise she’d heard, I dug through the rental agreement I’d signed to see if I could get a name for the owner of 3 Beech Close.
Unfortunately, the contract I’d signed was with the estate agent who managed the rental agreement. If I had any problems with the plumbing or electrics, I contacted them directly, not the landlord. It wasn’t unusual to pay for a company to manage the letting. It saved you from being bothered with calls about leaking roof tiles or damp patches in the ceiling. Perhaps the estate agents would be able to give me the name of the owner if I called and asked tomorrow. They wouldn’t be answering their phones on a Sunday night.
Lauren had laid out our plans for the next day already, she wanted to go to the cinema to see the sequel to Sonic the Hedgehog, but I was sure it was really a ruse for an extortionately priced bag of pick and mix. Seeing as I’d given her free rein for the Easter holidays, I was happy to chill in the comfy seats and shovel in popcorn for a couple of hours if it kept her entertained. It was going to be the first day of her break, and with the unpacking finished, I wanted us to have fun while I was off work.
I curled into the sofa, giving in to the temptation to check my emails on my phone, whilst a cup of camomile tea grew cold beside me. I had two administrative contracts I was managing side by side, and despite being on holiday, I liked to keep my eye on things. I knew one of the other contractors from the agency was covering my leave, but I’d been burnt from previous experiences. The last thing I wanted was to come back to everything in a mess. I’d built a good relationship with my clients, which is why they repeatedly asked for me when they needed someone on a short-term basis.
Halfway through checking a spreadsheet requested by a market research company I supported, a loud thud hit the window behind me. I leapt off the sofa, knocking over the mug of lukewarm tea, and turned around to see a pair of eyes staring through the darkness back at me. Cupped hands pressed against the glass, white skin practically iridescent in contrast to the backdrop. Shrieking, I staggered back, trying to place the person peering into my front room. Then they were gone, a silver streak whisking past the window.
I raced to the front door, heart pounding, and threw it open, yelping when Valerie almost fell inside. Her mouth was twisted into a snarl, she looked wild, hair loose and flailing in the wind. She wore a white floor-length nightgown which billowed around her legs, feet bare on the driveway.
‘Get out, get out, get out,’ she hissed as I froze, open-mouthed, unable to utter a response. Valerie flung out a wrinkly hand to grab me and I tensed, waiting for her touch, but it never came.
‘Mum!’ Remy stormed down the driveway, grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her away as if she was a rag doll. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he called over his shoulder as my muscles slackened and I melted onto the floor.
I couldn’t speak, unable to formulate the words, staring after them until they disappeared around the hedge and out of sight. Beneath the sound of the wind chime going crazy, I could hear Remy’s reprimanding and the slamming of Valerie’s front door.
Eventually, I pushed the door closed with my foot and went and drew the curtains. The imprint of Valerie’s face squashed against the glass remained until I blocked it out. Adrenaline rocketed around my system as I tried to process what had just happened. Had Valerie come to attack me? Threaten me and my daughter? She’d looked like a ghost at the window, frightening me half to death. My heart was still racing, refusing to slow.
When Becky said Valerie had danced around the beech tree in her nightgown, I’d imagined this ethereal creature, gown flowing as she pranced, but what had arrived at my door had been almost otherworldly. Valerie couldn’t have looked more different from the woman I’d met two days ago, the perfectly poised ice queen had been a witch from a fairy tale tonight.
Despite my answer, she remained quiet on the way back, deep in thought.
As we entered the close, Teddy headed straight for the green and the beech tree, pulling me along.
Derek was drying his freshly washed car with a cloth, buffing it to a perfect shine. I smiled and waved, surprised when he walked over to join us.
‘Hello, Shelly, and who might this be?’ He beamed down at Lauren, and I remembered him telling me he used to be the headmaster of a primary school. You could tell he had a way with kids as Lauren introduced herself and Teddy, answering all Derek’s questions about the dog as he lowered himself onto one knee to pet him. I looked on, smiling, and Derek winked as he got to his feet.
‘Do you miss it? Being at school?’ I asked Derek.
‘Of course he does, silly,’ Lauren said knowingly before chasing Teddy around the tree.
Derek raised his wayward eyebrows. ‘Out the mouths of babes, eh?’ he chuckled.
‘Did the person who lived at number three before me have children?’ I asked, thinking about the message in the airing cupboard and who the author could be.
‘No, she wasn’t here long.’ Derek paused before continuing, ‘She had a dog though,’ he volunteered.
Had Valerie driven her out because she’d had a dog? The idea was absurd; the woman, whoever she was, could have left for any number of reasons and I didn’t believe it was because of victimisation from her elderly neighbour.
‘Well, it’s lovely to see you again, Derek. I better get these two inside for breakfast.’
Derek gave me a nod and waved as he headed back to his car. His friendliness lifted my spirits; if only he lived next door, he’d be the perfect neighbour.
‘There was me thinking you’d have a cooked breakfast ready,’ I chided Josh when we came through the front door. He was still on the sofa, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘I cooked dinner last night, you cheeky minx, what more do you want.’
‘Some wife you turned out to be,’ I retorted, winking at Lauren, who giggled, used to mine and Josh’s banter.
I put the kettle on and told Josh about the wind chime as Lauren fed Teddy his kibble. He rubbed at the crick in his neck from sleeping on a sofa too small for his heavy frame. Trying to fold his enormous body onto a small three-seater that was not made for sleeping on.
‘What are you doing today?’ I asked Josh as we sipped steaming hot coffee.
‘Like I don’t do the same thing every Sunday?’ Josh pulled a face.
‘Mum’s roast, of course. I forgot it was Sunday for a second there.’
‘Not all of us have two weeks off work, you lucky thing. You could always come with me, you know. Mum would love to see you, and Lauren of course.’ Josh eyed me expectantly, but before I could speak, Lauren cut in.
‘I want to go around the green later on my scooter.’
‘I’m probably going to spend the day finishing unpacking, getting things straight, you know,’ I said, apologetically.
‘Oh sure, of course.’ He waved me away.
‘I’ll text you about Ikea though,’ I said, reminding him of our plan for one day next week.
‘Definitely, let me know.’
I toasted crumpets for breakfast and made sure Josh ate before he left, thanking him for all of his help yesterday. Once he’d gone, I unpacked anything we hadn’t already got to. There wasn’t too much, and after a couple of hours I had a neat stack of packing boxes on the driveway to return to the movers. My office had piles of files and software on the carpet. The laptop left in the corner, where the desk was going to go. Having my own office was going to be a luxury and I had visions of the shelves I’d put up, the pretty pinboards and storage boxes. Somewhere I wouldn’t be embarrassed to switch on my camera for a meeting over Zoom. Hopefully it would be somewhere to inspire.
The office overlooked the back garden, a pleasant view of tall sycamore trees shot up from the abandoned railway line. I could also see into Valerie’s garden. She was on her knees turning over the soil of a flower bed. Teddy and I had barely been in the garden since I’d found the chocolate. I was waiting for her to cool off before risking antagonising her again.
Lauren made me hang some photos in her room, mostly of us, two of Teddy. I displayed her most recent school photo downstairs on the fireplace and hung the canvas over the mantelpiece with tough sticky pads so I wouldn’t have to mark the freshly painted walls. I’d brought a couple of cushions and a throw with us, draping it on the sofa. With some of our trinkets on show, the place was more homely than yesterday. I had a list as long as my arm of what I needed to buy, but Mum’s money remained untouched in her bank account, other than what I’d used to pay the rent up front on number three Beech Close. It was more money than I’d ever had access to before, Mum had been squirrelling it away for years, spending only what she had to. We’d lived on a shoestring budget, with her counting every penny. However, it didn’t feel like mine to spend. I was the only family she had, but it felt wrong to take something I hadn’t earned, something Mum wouldn’t have given willingly.
13
‘Can I go outside on my scooter now?’ Lauren asked.
‘Put on a cardigan first,’ I replied, knowing it wasn’t warm enough for the T-shirt and leggings Lauren had chosen to wear. The sun had come out as promised, but the air was still cool.
Outside, I grabbed the flattened boxes I’d leant against the house and tucked them neatly between the bin and the hedge, hoping it wouldn’t rain before they could be collected.
Lauren whizzed around the pavement, the wheels of her yellow scooter rattling on the concrete. Beech Close was quiet, the Sunday early-afternoon lull perfect for a long walk or curling up on the sofa with a book. I swept the driveway to keep myself occupied whilst keeping an eye on Lauren, then emptied out the rubbish which had accumulated in my car.
When I’d finished, Lauren showed no signs of wanting to come in. Round and round she went, slowing when she got to Derek’s house as if hoping he’d come outside and entertain her again. It was times like that I felt guilty she was an only child. It was sad Sebastian hadn’t stuck around long enough to give me another child, or even be a father. Although being a single parent was hard enough with one, let alone two, and I knew now that Sebastian never intended to make an honest woman of me.
He’d made no effort to contact Lauren and build a relationship, sending money through every six months or so until she was around six and then it stopped altogether. I assumed he’d had another family to feed, conveniently forgetting about his first child. He had changed his number and moved out of the area. To be honest, I was glad not to bump into him. Despite the lack of maintenance, I believed we’d got off lightly. He would have been the type to promise Lauren the world and not deliver. This way, her heart wouldn’t get repeatedly broken when he didn’t show up to collect her or if he forgot her birthday.
Pushing Sebastian from my mind, I loitered on the driveway, not wanting to leave Lauren outside by herself. Visions of her being thrown into a white van and on the motorway in minutes plagued me. I always had to keep her in sight, keep her safe. As I repositioned the bin, I noticed the small box of junk Josh had brought down from the loft. I hadn’t paid much attention to the contents, but as I had nothing better to do while Lauren circled the close, I sat on the doorstep and rooted through.
Inside was a folded local newspaper from the first week of November last year, the front page showing pictures taken from the local Shocktober Fest at Tulley’s Farm, where residents paid for an evening of Halloween scares. It wasn’t obvious as to why it had been kept and I scanned the photos on the front and names beneath, although nothing jumped out at me.
I reached inside the box to see what else there was, pulling out a battered copy of The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks, which looked like it had been a favourite read. I ran my thumb over the pages, skimming the edge, when a slip of paper fell out of the middle into my lap. I turned it over in my hands, a receipt from the local pet shop. A 2.5kg bag of Canagan adult dog food had been purchased on the tenth of December. I slipped the receipt back inside the book and returned it to the box, this time retrieving a hand-knitted bright orange scarf coiled at the bottom. Wrapped inside was a small blank envelope which contained a photo of a couple. A woman had her head resting on the shoulder of a man outside a fountain. Both of them smiling into the camera, squinting in the sun. She was pretty, blonde hair in tight corkscrew curls, her smile was wide and infectious. The man’s grin wasn’t as sincere, and it looked like he was about to roll his eyes when the photo was taken. He had his arm loosely around the woman’s waist, black sunglasses rested on top of his shaven head. At the bottom of the envelope was a necklace, a silver infinity symbol on a delicate chain, the clasp broken. I put them both to the side.
The last item in the box was a man’s watch, dark spots stained the tan leather strap, which looked suspiciously like blood or maybe oil. It was a strange array of items to keep hold of. Had they been left behind by the last occupant? Had the owner of number three Beech Close boxed them up with the intention of forwarding them on and perhaps not got around to it? Puzzled, I turned my attention back to Lauren, who I could no longer see nor hear from the doorstep.
Jumping up, I jogged to the end of the driveway, relief flooding through me when I spotted her the other side of the beech tree. She was talking to a man I assumed was Derek, but as I got closer, off the driveway and across the road, I didn’t recognise him at all. The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention and I quickened my pace, trying to catch what my daughter was saying to this stranger.
‘Excuse me, can I help you,’ I said, rounding the tree to find my daughter handing the man a daisy chain she’d made.
‘This is Finn,’ she smiled at me, her face a picture of innocence.
The man, a sandy-haired stocky unit who was easily twice the size of me smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry, yes, I’m Finn. Lauren was telling me you’ve moved into number three.’
I continued to frown at him, folding my arms across my chest.
‘I’m Niamh’s husband,’ he explained, his voice throaty. My cheeks coloured – of course, we hadn’t met at the drinks she’d organised.
‘Sorry, yes, you were working when Niamh invited me over. I’m Shelly,’ I said, softening my voice.
‘Welcome to Beech Close,’ he said, as if it was a prepared statement for whoever entered the cul-de-sac. It amused me, as though I was being ordained into a cult.
‘Shelly, hi!’ Niamh strode over, a shawl over her shoulders, silver earrings swinging from her ears. I almost did a double take. She’d tried to cover it with make-up, but it was obvious Niamh had a black eye. The whites around her sky-blue eyes looked bloodshot, especially the bruised one.
‘We’re off to Tenerife for a few days, getting away before Easter, you know.’ She saw me staring and looked away, fussing with her hair.
I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. What would I say? I hardly knew her well enough to pry.
‘Are you going on a plane?’ Lauren asked, twiddling the daisy chain Finn had given back to her.
‘We are,’ Finn replied.
‘I haven’t been on one,’ Lauren said, grimacing, and my face flushed again.
‘We will, poppet. Now we don’t have to look after Nanny, we can go wherever you like,’ I said, trying to convey it was circumstances as opposed to money as to why Lauren hadn’t yet been abroad.
It was a lie. We hadn’t had enough for a weekend in Worthing, let alone a trip to the Canary Islands. I hadn’t paid rent living with Mum but contributed to the bills and the food, and I’d managed to save a little, even with the reduced hours I was working. Mum had taken up almost all of my time when I wasn’t with Lauren. It was cheap living but had come at the cost of our sanity at times. Now we did have the money for a holiday. Perhaps we’d go Whitsun half-term for a week ahead of the summer rush. I could book something as a surprise and whisk Lauren away. The idea already formulating in my mind.
‘Oh I’m sorry, that must have been hard,’ Niamh said, linking her arm through Finn’s, her expression one of genuine sympathy, which made my throat tighten.
Before I could speak, Lauren piped up.
‘She had a bell, and she would ring and ring and ring and ring…’ she explained, shaking her head for dramatic effect, so Finn laughed despite himself.
‘That’s enough, Lauren. Niamh and Finn have got a plane to catch. We don’t want to keep them.’ I pulled Lauren into me, squeezing her tight to distract her from volunteering too much information. I still found it difficult to talk about Mum.
‘Yes we better be off. Lovely to meet you finally,’ Finn said, already turning away, his arm around Niamh’s shoulders, maybe a little too tightly.
‘You too. Oh and thanks again for the drinks, Niamh, really lovely of you to invite me to meet everyone,’ I called to their retreating backs.
‘Any time. You’re one of us now,’ she called over her shoulder, her voice as cold as a winter’s morning.
14
Niamh’s words played on my mind all afternoon, not to mention her black eye. I didn’t want to be one of them. Whatever that was? Her phrase seemed innocent enough, but her tone had an edge to it. One I couldn’t put my finger on. The residents of Beech Close had been welcoming. I’d met all of them within two days of moving in, most of them friendly with the exception of Valerie, but perhaps it was to be expected since Becky had enlightened me on her condition and Teddy had crapped on her lawn before we’d even been introduced.
According to Derek, the woman before me hadn’t lived in the house for long. I guessed it was her belongings in the loft. The receipt for dog food supporting my theory. Derek said she had no children but did have a dog. Was she the one who had scratched LEAVE NOW into the wall of the airing cupboard? But why?
Curiosity plagued me – why had the previous resident moved on? Had she been hounded out by Valerie? If she had, why would she leave her scarf and necklace behind? The contents of the box, which I’d brought back inside on returning to the house didn’t feel like lost items. They felt like keepsakes, and the idea, however ridiculous, made my stomach churn.
Once Lauren was in bed, much more settled since discovering the wind chime was the source of the noise she’d heard, I dug through the rental agreement I’d signed to see if I could get a name for the owner of 3 Beech Close.
Unfortunately, the contract I’d signed was with the estate agent who managed the rental agreement. If I had any problems with the plumbing or electrics, I contacted them directly, not the landlord. It wasn’t unusual to pay for a company to manage the letting. It saved you from being bothered with calls about leaking roof tiles or damp patches in the ceiling. Perhaps the estate agents would be able to give me the name of the owner if I called and asked tomorrow. They wouldn’t be answering their phones on a Sunday night.
Lauren had laid out our plans for the next day already, she wanted to go to the cinema to see the sequel to Sonic the Hedgehog, but I was sure it was really a ruse for an extortionately priced bag of pick and mix. Seeing as I’d given her free rein for the Easter holidays, I was happy to chill in the comfy seats and shovel in popcorn for a couple of hours if it kept her entertained. It was going to be the first day of her break, and with the unpacking finished, I wanted us to have fun while I was off work.
I curled into the sofa, giving in to the temptation to check my emails on my phone, whilst a cup of camomile tea grew cold beside me. I had two administrative contracts I was managing side by side, and despite being on holiday, I liked to keep my eye on things. I knew one of the other contractors from the agency was covering my leave, but I’d been burnt from previous experiences. The last thing I wanted was to come back to everything in a mess. I’d built a good relationship with my clients, which is why they repeatedly asked for me when they needed someone on a short-term basis.
Halfway through checking a spreadsheet requested by a market research company I supported, a loud thud hit the window behind me. I leapt off the sofa, knocking over the mug of lukewarm tea, and turned around to see a pair of eyes staring through the darkness back at me. Cupped hands pressed against the glass, white skin practically iridescent in contrast to the backdrop. Shrieking, I staggered back, trying to place the person peering into my front room. Then they were gone, a silver streak whisking past the window.
I raced to the front door, heart pounding, and threw it open, yelping when Valerie almost fell inside. Her mouth was twisted into a snarl, she looked wild, hair loose and flailing in the wind. She wore a white floor-length nightgown which billowed around her legs, feet bare on the driveway.
‘Get out, get out, get out,’ she hissed as I froze, open-mouthed, unable to utter a response. Valerie flung out a wrinkly hand to grab me and I tensed, waiting for her touch, but it never came.
‘Mum!’ Remy stormed down the driveway, grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her away as if she was a rag doll. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he called over his shoulder as my muscles slackened and I melted onto the floor.
I couldn’t speak, unable to formulate the words, staring after them until they disappeared around the hedge and out of sight. Beneath the sound of the wind chime going crazy, I could hear Remy’s reprimanding and the slamming of Valerie’s front door.
Eventually, I pushed the door closed with my foot and went and drew the curtains. The imprint of Valerie’s face squashed against the glass remained until I blocked it out. Adrenaline rocketed around my system as I tried to process what had just happened. Had Valerie come to attack me? Threaten me and my daughter? She’d looked like a ghost at the window, frightening me half to death. My heart was still racing, refusing to slow.
When Becky said Valerie had danced around the beech tree in her nightgown, I’d imagined this ethereal creature, gown flowing as she pranced, but what had arrived at my door had been almost otherworldly. Valerie couldn’t have looked more different from the woman I’d met two days ago, the perfectly poised ice queen had been a witch from a fairy tale tonight.
