The Good Neighbour (36 page)

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Authors: Beth Miller

BOOK: The Good Neighbour
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There was a moment’s silence, and then Liam said quietly, ‘Minette, I’m sorry if I was a bit of a shit.’

Having given him a little dig, she decided to let him off the hook. It wasn’t all his fault, anyway. She’d been just as much a driving force. ‘Don’t think twice about it. We had a good time. We’re both better off as we are.’

You have been inside me, she thought. I revealed more about myself to you than to any other man. There are pictures somewhere out there that prove it. Now I don’t know anything about you. I don’t have a clue what you’re thinking. And you probably don’t know what I’m thinking, either.

‘That’s really good of you to say that,’ Liam said, clearly relieved. ‘It’s weird, because I was convinced back then that Josie and I had run out of steam. But now, I’d be gutted if anything happened to us.’

‘I feel the same way about Abe,’ Minette said. ‘I’d never say anything to Josie.’

‘Oh, I know! I’m very glad you’re friends with her. So … I hear that Cath and the girl are still AWOL.’

Minette nodded. ‘I think Cath has really disappeared now.’

Liam lowered his voice. ‘She was a piece of work, that Cath, wasn’t she? She stung me for a right old wedge of cash.’

A boy came over to ask Liam if he’d answered one of the quiz questions correctly. ‘Ask this lady here,’ Liam said. ‘She knows much more than me.’

Minette told the boy he had the right answer, and he went off happily.

‘Do you think Lola will be OK?’ Liam asked.

‘I don’t know. I can’t get her out of my head. But if I’m not to go mad, I have to tell myself that she will be fine.’

He nodded. ‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I know much more than you, remember? You just said so.’

He smiled down at her. ‘That’s true. I think you do.’

That evening, Minette was about to write Ros an email when she realised she still had the Frank Sinatra picture as her desktop background. She’d stopped noticing it. She changed it for a photo Abe’s dad had just sent, taken at Tilly’s birthday party. In it, Minette was kissing a smiling Tilly on one cheek, and Abe was kissing her on the other. Roy had called the file ‘Happiness’.

The days went by, and Minette noticed that they were passing more quickly. For the first time she could see what parents of older children meant when they complained about how fast time went. When Tilly was a baby, particularly when the Miltons lived next door, every hour seemed to last a day; there were days that went on for weeks. But everything seemed easier now. Tilly was fun to be around and to do things with, especially as Minette didn’t have to spend every waking minute with her. Abe started to talk about having another baby, and Minette said that she would like to wait for a year or so.

One evening, when they were watching telly, Abe told Minette that, now she was earning again, he would like to drop a half-day at work and study viniculture at Plumpton College. This had long been his ambition: he dreamed of owning a small vineyard in France near where Élise lived. Minette said it was a terrific idea. Abe turned the TV off before the end of the programme and they made love on the sofa.

One afternoon when Tilly was asleep, Minette remembered the photo frames. She dug them out from the under-stairs cupboard, even more dirty than before. She sat on the bench and washed them, and no handsome neighbours came past to disturb her and she was mostly glad.

The days went by, and on every one Minette thought of Lola.

One evening in October, when it was starting to get properly cold, Andy got in touch. The flurry of regular contact with him had tailed off; it had been about three weeks since they last spoke. As soon as Minette and Abe saw his face on the screen, they knew he had news.

‘Verna rang me to say that Ruby’s asked her to send on her things.’

‘That’s a good sign, yes?’ Abe said. ‘It means she’s settled down.’

‘Yes. Apparently Esmie’s started school now, a good school in a nice area, and is doing really well. She can write her name.’

Which name, Minette wondered. Adam had told them that she was called Breeze now, though maybe even that had changed. Minette admired the stubborn way Andy still referred to her as Esmie.

Andy went on, ‘Ruby asked Verna to send various things to me, as well, so I’m waiting on those.’

‘Did Ruby ask after Adam?’ Abe asked.

Andy turned, to make sure that Adam hadn’t wandered into the room. ‘Yes. She just said that she missed him every minute, and hoped he was happy.’

They were all silent for a moment.

‘She really did love him, I think,’ Minette said, finally.

‘I know,’ Andy said.

Ros came to stay, and she and Minette went out for a drink that turned into a meal that turned into more drinks. They visited their favourite student bars, all greatly changed, and moaned about how old they were compared to the current students. Ros listed all the things she didn’t like about Bristol, and the things she missed about Brighton, and they plotted how she and Marcus could get their jobs to transfer them back. Even just talking about it made Minette feel happy, and full of possibilities.

A few drinks down, Minette told Ros about seeing Liam at work.

‘Did you still fancy him?’

‘Oh, yes. I don’t think that will ever go completely. He’s my animus, you see.’

‘Your what?’

‘Never mind. But I still feel awful about betraying Abe.’

‘What he don’t know won’t hurt him. And to be fair to you, Abe wasn’t sleeping with you, was he? Not for ages?’

Minette shook her head. She felt rather drunk.

‘There you go,’ Ros slurred. ‘Sexy gal like you, gotta get it somewhere.’ She put her hand on Minette’s arm. ‘I don’t want you to feel guilty about it, OK? You are a good person. You did a naughty little thing. Now it’s finished. Don’t beat yourself up about it, OK? That’s an order.’

‘Love you, Ros.’

‘Love you too, you old pisshead.’

A couple of weeks after Andy Skyped them about Ruby, he texted Minette asking if he could talk to her in private, without Abe. As it happened, Abe was out at the supermarket with Tilly. While Minette waited for Skype to connect she wondered what the hell this was. Was Andy going to declare his love for her? She giggled at the thought. Or – and the giggling stopped instantly – was there something up with Adam that Andy wanted a female perspective on?

When Andy’s face appeared on the screen, Minette asked him how Adam was doing.

‘Good days and bad,’ Andy said. ‘He misses Esmie a real lot, you know.’

‘Course he does. So do you. Well, we all do,’ Minette said.

‘He talks to her all the time, you know, pretending she’s with us. Tells her about his day, makes lists of his favourite things for her. Do you think that’s normal?’

‘Yes,’ Minette said, firmly. ‘It’s really good that he isn’t forgetting about her.’

‘Verna’s still hopeful that Ruby will turn up on her doorstep any day now,’ Andy said.

‘I’m sure she’s right,’ Minette said, thinking the exact opposite. ‘So, was Adam what you wanted to talk about?’

‘Ah. No, it was, er, something else.’ Andy coughed. ‘Maybe I should have done this by email.’

Minette was still in the dark. ‘What is it, Andy?’

‘Verna sent me some things Ruby asked her to forward. Adam’s clothes, though he’s grown out of most of them. Esmie’s jacket, I’m not sure why. A few toys. We’ve got two Waffles now. And this.’

He held up a large brown envelope, and Minette went cold. ‘Oh god,’ she said.

‘I’m sure Verna didn’t open it,’ he said.

‘But you did,’ Minette said faintly.

‘I closed it again straight away when I saw what it was, Minette,’ Andy said.

I bet you did, Minette thought to herself. Straight away, just a couple of sweaty hours later. You’re a man, after all. ‘Can you destroy them, please?’

‘Of course. I was planning to. I’ll do it soon as we finish talking. There’s also a memory stick in the envelope.’

‘With the photos on, I suppose?’

‘Um, yes. They’re all there.’

Well of course, he had to check, have another look at his favourites. Minette shook her head. Come on, Minette, it’s not his fault. Anyone who was sent a pile of dirty pictures would look at them, it was human nature. She was probably the only person in the world who would put them straight back in the envelope and put the whole thing through a shredder.

‘So, erm, do you mind if I ask?’ Andy said.

Yes, of course I bloody do! ‘No, go on.’

‘I don’t think that was Abe in the pictures, was it?’

Minette let out a flat laugh. ‘No, Andy, it wasn’t.’

‘OK, say no more, say no more,’ he gabbled, like the dodgy bloke out of Monty Python.

‘Why do you think she sent them to you?’ Minette asked. She moved out of webcam range for a moment and took out her lenses so that she couldn’t see the envelope, nor Andy’s embarrassed-but-titillated expression. That was better. The screen was just a page of light, Andy a splash of colour, her own face a smaller splash in the corner.

‘I don’t know. I can’t pretend I’ll ever understand anything Ruby does. I suppose she thought it would be safer than sending them to you, in case Abe might see them?’

Nice idea, Minette thought. But it went to show how little he really did know his wife. ‘Will you destroy the memory stick as well?’ she asked.

There was just the slightest hesitation before Andy said, ‘Well, sure. Consider it done.’

Minette said goodbye and logged out, with some difficulty, as she couldn’t see what she was doing. Then she lay on the bed and tried to work through it logically. If there was a memory stick, there was a digital version of the photos. That meant there was a computer somewhere with the photos on, and possibly another memory stick. Or lots of memory sticks.

‘I hate you, Cath,’ Minette said aloud. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she told herself that was wrong. Cath had a mental illness, she wasn’t well, she didn’t have control over her actions … it didn’t feel like that, though. It felt actually as though she had perfect, extraordinary control. But no, that type of control-freakery was part of her illness. Probably. Wasn’t it? Did that excuse it? Of course it did. Minette shut her thoughts up, they really weren’t helping. She needed to be practical, think clearly. What were the most likely scenarios for Cath sending Andy the pictures?

Possibility one: Cath wanted to get rid of the baggage from her previous life and make a fresh start. But in that case, why not just ask Verna to destroy them? OK, why, because Cath knew Andy would tell Minette, then get rid of them, decent chap that he was, and Minette would know that they’d been destroyed and have that burden lifted. Bit embarrassing for him, very embarrassing for Minette, but all over. No more photos. Likelihood: zero out of 10.

Possibility two: Cath wanted to send Minette a message. The message was: I could ruin you, like you tried to ruin me, but I am bigger than that. So I am letting you know that I could have done something harmful with the photos, but I haven’t. All copies of the photos have been destroyed. Likelihood: 3 out of 10.

Possibility three: Cath wanted to send Minette a message. The message was: You shouldn’t have intervened. It wasn’t like I didn’t warn you. I still have the photos. So get ready. Andy first. Then Abe. Likelihood: 9 out of 10.

Minette hadn’t spent all this time trying to get into Cath’s head without some understanding of the way her mind worked. She didn’t know for certain, though, and she knew that Cath wanted it that way. Minette rolled onto her back and gazed at the blurry lampshade above her, letting the warm tears scroll down her face. The front door banged, and Abe called out, ‘Hey, we’re back! Tilly’s bought you some flowers.’

So now Minette had to decide. Tell Abe about her affair now, or wait until her hand was forced.
If
her hand was forced. If she didn’t tell now, could she bear to live her life in a state of constant anxiety? To always have to intercept the post? But then, Cath could just as easily use Abe’s work address. Or the photos could turn up in an email, or on Facebook. Or on some public-access website.

The morning after she’d spoken to Andy, everything seemed in suspended animation. She watched Abe as though from a long way away, watched as he poured himself coffee, opened the dishwasher to put the teaspoon inside, kissed Tilly, and sat at the table, spread the newspaper out in front of him and let out a contented sigh. He was so very dear to her. She didn’t want to lose him.

If she told him, she might ruin everything they had. Perhaps needlessly, as the photos might never turn up. But if she didn’t tell him, and then they arrived, would that be worse? How would he react if, one morning, another envelope arrived from America containing a different kind of photograph? If she told him about them, pre-empted it, at least she knew the photos turning up couldn’t hurt things any worse than they were. But what would he do when she told him? Leave? Take Tilly? Stay, but hate her? Stay and never trust her again?

There was a knock on the door, and she froze.

‘I’ll go,’ Abe said, getting up.

‘No! You’ve just sat down. I’ll get it.’

‘But I’m expecting a parcel …’

Minette was already in the hall. She flung open the front door and stared at the parcel courier. ‘Delivery for Mr Moncrieff?’ the man said.

‘That’s me,’ Abe said, behind Minette, and reached for the package. Minette got to it first and held it behind her back.

‘Minette! What’s the matter? It’s for me,’ Abe said. He thanked the courier, and closed the door. ‘Come on now, it’s a surprise for you,’ he said. ‘I don’t want it spoiled.’

‘I need to look at it first, please,’ Minette said, trying to keep her voice steady.

‘What the hell is going on? Sweetie, why are you crying? It’s just that book you wanted, the one about George IV’s wife.’

Minette slowly brought the parcel round in front of her. It said ‘Amazon’ on the front.

‘I know we’re not supposed to be using Amazon but it was half the price,’ Abe said.

Minette laughed through her tears, and handed the package to him. He gave it back to her. ‘It’s for you,’ he said.

So, if she didn’t tell him, that was her future. Her heart jumping every time the doorbell rang, or the post landed on the mat. Every time he turned on the computer. Every time he came home from work. Every time, for who knew how long.

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