The Good Neighbour (4 page)

Minette shifted in her seat so she could sneak a glance at Liam. She knew she ought to look away, but she didn’t seem to be in charge of her eyes; they roamed down Liam’s long legs, and slowly back up his body, stopping at several interesting points en route. When she arrived at his face, she found with a start that he was looking straight at her, with that amused expression. She looked away so hurriedly she felt like her eyes twanged, Bugs Bunny style. Abe was looking down at Tilly and hadn’t noticed.

When she dared to look back again, Liam was gazing attentively at Cath. Minette wondered if he found Cath attractive. He might, easily, though she was older than him. She was very slim, with lovely shoulder-length blonde hair that Minette envied, coiled into a clip.

Cath finished talking, and people clapped. Someone handed Minette a clipboard, which she’d dimly registered being passed round while Cath spoke. She held it up to Abe with a quizzical look, and he said, ‘It’s for the triathlon Cath was just talking about.’

‘Now we know why we were invited,’ Liam said.

‘It’s for charity, mate,’ Abe said, filling in the form.

‘There’ll soon be a time when everyone in the world will be begging for cash for their bungee jump or marathon or sponsored toothbrushing. It’ll be like Andy Warhol’s fifteen minutes, except with sponsor pledges.’

Minette knew she should find Liam’s attitude repugnant – Abe clearly did – but it made him even more attractive. Perhaps because of her default optimism, her glass-half-full mentality, Minette was drawn to cynical people. Paul had been very cynical.

Abe just shook his head. ‘I’ll not bother passing this on to you, then?’ he said.

‘Of course I’ll sponsor her,’ Liam said, laughing, ‘I’m not a complete bastard.’ After he’d signed it, Minette handed the form to Kirsten, and noticed that Liam had pledged twenty pounds more than Abe.

‘She’s incredible, isn’t she?’ Kirsten said. ‘Husband away, two kids, one poorly, just moved house, and she still does all this stuff for charity.’

‘She’s very cool,’ agreed the receding man, still loitering near Kirsten’s top.

Cath came over with a woman Minette didn’t know. Another one! It seemed to Minette that she had been going round with her eyes closed since moving in. The new woman was very tanned and wearing a leopard-skin dress.

‘Oh, you lovely folk!’ Cath cried, looking at the clipboard. ‘It will make training so much easier, knowing I’ve got such supportive sponsors.’

‘Still think you’re mad,’ the leopard-skin woman said. ‘Least this one isn’t quite as barking as your parachute jump.’

‘Not a bungee, then?’ Liam said quietly to Minette.

‘Gina, this is Minette and Abe, their darling daughter Tilly, and Liam,’ Cath said, putting her arm round the woman. ‘My neighbours on either side.’

Minette overcompensated for her judgmental feelings about Gina’s dress by giving her warmest smile.

‘Gina’s my rock,’ Cath said to Minette. ‘She’s seen me through a lot of crazy stuff.’

The two women moved away, taking the sponsor form round to other groups of people. Liam exchanged a raised eyebrow with Minette and Abe.

‘Lesbian?’ Liam mouthed.

Abe nodded. ‘Definite gaydar there.’

Tilly stirred, opened her eyes and began to wail. ‘Ah, the kraken wakes,’ Abe said, and stood up. ‘I’ll take her home for lunch,’ he told Minette. He nodded at Liam, clearly still riled by his charity comments, and headed into the house. Minette said, ‘I’d better go too.’ She made no move to get up.

‘It was great to get a chance to talk to you. Listen.’ He touched her arm gently, setting off shockwaves in Minette. ‘Yes?’ she said faintly. She was sure that the hairs on her arm were standing on end, hoped they weren’t, didn’t dare look. How long had it been, since she had felt that rush?

‘Yes, what?’ he whispered.

‘You said, “Listen.”’

‘Ah yes. Listen. When I said I liked meeting the neighbours, there was only one I was hoping to meet.’

‘Oh, Jesus.’

‘No, not him. He lives in Brighton.’

‘I’m just … it’s just … well.’ Stop it, Minette, she told herself. Stop being so uncool. ‘I like meeting the
neighbour
too.’ She emphasised the singular.

‘That’s good to know. I was wondering, is there ever time when you’re at home during the day, bored?’

‘I have a small baby, so yes, all the time.’

‘Me too. Except without the baby. I’m sitting there, on my own, waiting till my course starts. I’ve already watched everything on Netflix and I’m just about ready to take up macramé, so if you ever fancied coffee or something …’

‘Oh! But I’ll have Tilly.’

‘Sure. She can hang out too, watch telly or something?’

Minette looked at Liam. Was she really going to cross this line? ‘I don’t know.’

Kirsten, who’d finally shaken off her receding-haired admirer, joined them. ‘We still on for Tilly’s cranio this afternoon, Min?’

‘Yes, please. Liam, do you know Kirsten? She lives more or less opposite you.’

Liam said, ‘Hello,’ but carried on looking at Minette. There was an awkward silence. ‘Well, I’ll head off,’ Kirsten said, eventually. ‘Bye, then.’

When she’d gone, Liam smiled at Minette. ‘So, what do you think?’

The look on Kirsten’s face had brought Minette back to her senses. Was she seriously contemplating, well, whatever she was contemplating? Flirting was lovely, but that had to be it. ‘I can’t, I’m sorry. I’ll see you some time.’ She followed Kirsten into the house.

Cath was saying goodbye to people at the door, thanking them for coming.

‘Lovely party,’ Minette told her. ‘Amazing turn out.’

‘Lots of fantastic neighbours,’ Cath said. ‘Hope you met some nice ones.’

Davey was sitting in his wheelchair behind her, staring at Minette. When she caught his eye he looked away.

‘Bye Davey.’

He waved his hand, and Minette went home, head spinning. She knew it was a mistake, drinking wine so early in the day.

CATH SAT NEXT
to another mother in the school foyer, and they got chatting. The woman was the mother of a girl in the reception class, but she clearly knew who Davey was. Cath guessed that all the kids were talking about the new boy in the wheelchair. The woman asked Cath the round-the-houses questions Cath was familiar with. Have you got any other children? (Translation: how the hell do you cope?) Does he always use the chair? (Has he just broken his leg or is he a permanent crip?) How does he manage at school? (What does he do when he needs the toilet?)

Cath gave her well-practised explanations: Yes, I’ve got a younger daughter as well who – how bad is my luck? – has multiple allergies. What to? Oh god, easier to say what not to! Um: peanuts, tree nuts, milk, fish … yes, it does make catering a bit on the awkward side, thank god for pasta, ha ha. Davey on the other hand, he’ll eat anything. But he has Duchenne muscular dystrophy, only boys get it, one in every 3,500, yeah, bad bloody luck, but you got to make the best of it, don’t you? We only got a diagnosis when he was four but I knew something was wrong, you just do, don’t you? At his last school an assistant took him to the disabled loo, but he’s big enough to sort himself out now. I’m doing a triathlon to raise money for research, maybe there will be a cure one day. Yes, you spotted my Lycra, off for a run after I’ve had a chat with Davey’s teacher, oh well thanks, I’ve got the sponsorship form here, that’s very kind of you.

Davey’s teacher, Miss Hobbs, took Cath into the library. ‘Davey is such a lovely boy,’ she said. ‘We’re so glad he’s joined us. We can talk properly here.’

Cath couldn’t imagine talking ‘properly’ to this doll-faced young woman, who looked fresh out of college, but she smiled and sat down. Miss Hobbs had with her the letter Cath sent when Davey started at the school. ‘So, Ms Brooke. Could you just tell us a bit more about this; you’ve asked that Davey be prevented from using the internet.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that for, er, religious reasons?’

‘No.’

Miss Hobbs shifted in her seat. ‘Ms Brooke, it would really help us if you could explain a little more. It’s extremely awkward to remove Davey from all classes which use the internet, and it’s going to be detrimental to his learning.’

‘I didn’t have the internet at school, but I somehow managed to become a qualified nurse.’

‘Well, yes.’ Miss Hobbs laughed nervously. ‘I take your point. But these days …’

‘Did you become a teacher recently, Miss Hobbs?’

‘Yes, two years ago.’

‘Where was your course?’

‘At Bath.’

‘Oh, isn’t that a lovely city! Did you want to stay there?’

‘Yes, I loved it, but I couldn’t find anything suitable, and my boyfriend, anyway, where were we? Yes, the internet.’ She said more gently than before, ‘Are there health reasons perhaps?’

‘There are, partly. When you’re using a computer or tablet you’re sitting very still and only moving the lower parts of your arms. That’s certainly not good for Davey’s muscular development. But that’s not the main reason.’ Cath’s eyes filled with tears.

The teacher reached across to pat Cath’s arm. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t want to pry, it’s just I’ve been told that I must put down a reason.’

‘No, of course, I understand,’ Cath said, wiping her eyes. ‘I’m just not used to talking about my problems. We’ve been through a hell of a time. We left our last place in a massive hurry, there was violence and threats. I’m so worried about Davey’s safety, about him being traceable if he uses the internet. I want to keep him safe.’

‘Of course you do,’ Miss Hobbs said emphatically, her eyes two pools of concern. ‘And so do we.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Is there something criminal we need to know about? Can we help in any way?’

‘That’s so sweet of you. The police are aware,’ Cath said. ‘Will that be enough of a reason?’

‘Yes, certainly.’ The teacher made some notes. ‘The head has also asked me to do some data gathering about Davey’s learning difficulties.’

‘He doesn’t have any. Bright as a button, that one.’

‘He means any difficulties associated with Davey’s condition. Was he statemented at his last school?’

Cath shook her head. ‘He can keep up with everything, he’s fine. He don’t need extra help; you already have the ramps, and a disabled toilet.’ She smiled, and put her hand on the table to say, that’s all.

‘Great. Well, I will certainly make the staff aware that Davey mustn’t be given internet access. However, in light of that, and his muscular dystrophy, we will recommend bringing the educational psychologist on board.’

Cath said, ‘But surely there are other children more in need of that kind of support?’

The teacher closed her folder. ‘I’m really sorry, Ms Brooke, I know the Head would just tell you the same thing. If there’s a request like the internet thing, and a deteriorating condition, we’re now obliged to bring in psychological services.’

‘So not just “recommended” but “obliged”?’

‘Er, yes. I’m sorry.’ The teacher stood up, and moved quickly to the door. ‘I had better relieve the teaching assistant! Thanks so much for stopping by, Ms Brooke.’

Cath saw that there was no point pushing it any further. Jobsworth woman had to do her thing.

She left the school and headed towards the seafront at a fast walk, then broke into a run once at the promenade. Grey though the sea was today, it still gave her a lift. She’d grown up in Eastbourne, only twenty-five miles along the coast, did her nurse training there, and took the sea for granted till she’d moved north and left it behind. They’d gone to the beach, course, when they lived in Liverpool and the kids were tiny. Those lovely empty beaches in North Wales, at Colwyn Bay. But it was a different thing to live near the sea, just three streets along, to be able to come down whenever you liked and breathe great salty lungs full of fresh, clean air.

It had felt very odd, being back in Eastbourne recently. Since moving away at twenty, she’d visited occasionally, to see Gina and Fay, always driving or walking the long way round to avoid the street where she grew up. She had no wish to see that house ever again. And since Davey was born, Gina had always come to see her. Being back in Eastbourne made it clear that, despite Gina being there, it was not the place for a fresh start.

Jogging along the flat path, passed by skateboarders and leggy girls on rollerblades, Cath felt bucked up, raised a hand to two women running towards her, who waved back. Hove was such a nice town, such a good move. The right move.

She wasn’t mad keen for an ed psych to get involved, she knew they were generally pretty nosy, but she supposed they might have an interesting viewpoint. Though she didn’t hold psychologists in as high esteem as proper medical people, like nurses. Anyway, knowing how these things worked, a referral would take months. Who knew where things would be then?

When the derelict west pier came into view Cath slowed to a halt and looked at her phone. Three kilometres. Not bad. Bit out of breath, but the legs were holding up. She reckoned she’d soon be able to do five, which was all she had to do for the triathlon. Running and swimming were OK. Cycling would be the hard bit. But she knew from other fundraisers she’d seen back in Troubletown that nothing brought in the donations like a triathlon. There was no point just doing a run anymore.

She turned away from the pier and started to walk home, making lists in her head. Cool down, quick shower, then get working, make some calls. Got to get back into the networks, Cathykins. Already been here three weeks. She’d been given some useful numbers from the local Duchenne support group. And Lola’s nursery had been great, had put up notices encouraging people to sponsor her, but it was harder to get schools on board. She needed to raise her profile. Maybe put on a fundraising event there? Quizzes were always popular.

Cath was back at Sisley Street, trying to fish her door key out of the sweaty zip pocket at the back of her running trousers, when she saw the girl next door, Minette. She was sitting in her front garden, on a bench Cath hadn’t noticed before.

‘You’ve got a good view of the street from there,’ she called, then realised Minette was crying. ‘Oh, lovie, what’s up?’ She pushed open Minette’s gate and sat next to her.