The New Neighbours (15 page)

“Don't worry about Paul,” Mike said cheerfully, “he thrives on it! Tell you what, I'll drag him out for a beer at the Ship one night this week, how would that be?”

Alison smiled at him gratefully. “That would be great,” she said. “It'd do him good. You not working today?” she added.

“Should be,” Mike admitted, smiling, “but I went out for the paper and then was tempted to sit in the sun and read it.”

“I see they've started work on number seven,” Alison said, glancing across. “I'm hoping some of the students may want to earn a bit of cash, babysitting. It would be great to have a couple of babysitters on tap.”

“I hadn't thought of that,” mused Mike. “It'd be useful to me too, when the children come.” He sighed and repeated, “If they come.”

“Don't they come any more?” asked Alison sympathetically.

“Less than they used to. Caroline always seems to have some reasonwhy they can't.”

“Mummy, come on,” yelled Harriet, swinging herself on her tummy and trying to climb up by herself.

Alison glanced across at her, and Mike said, “Go on, she's waiting for you. I'll tell you all about it some time. I must get back anyway, for as you so rightly say, I ought to be working. I've a deadline for Monday.” He folded his paper and got to his feet. They walked over to the swing and Mike scooped up Harriet and set her firmly on the seat. “Hold tight,” he ordered and then swung the little girl, squealing with delight, high into the air. He smiled at Alison. “See you,” he said, “and don't worry about Paul, I'll give him a bell later in the week.”

As he left the gardens, he could hear Harriet's excited cries, and he knew a stab of regret. He really missed seeing his children, even though only Debbie was of a size to be pushed on the swing now. He looked up at number ten as he approached it and wondered why he still lived there. It was really much too big for him, but it had been the family home, until Caroline moved out, and he wanted the children to feel they were coming home when they came to see him; that they still slept in their own bedrooms and knew where everything was. He sighed and repeated to himself, “When they come.” They hadn't been to stay with him for three months now, not since the night he had had them there and had brought home a girlfriend. Debbie told Caroline the next day that “Daddy had a lady in his bedroom,” and Caroline had been furious and refused to let them stay ever since.

“I promise I won't do it again,” he had pleaded. “It was a one-off. You changed the weekend they were to come and I already had a date. I fixed a babysitter so the kids were fine.”

“That was bad enough,” Caroline cut in. “When they come to stay with you, it's you they want to see, not a babysitter!”

Mike shrugged, “Yes, well it was a one-off. Then I had too much to drink to drive Francie home, so she had to stay the night.”

“In your bed!”

“Well, there wasn't anywhere else, Caroline. The children were in their own beds and the babysitter was already asleep on the sitting room sofa.”

As always the row escalated into a screeching match, and Caroline ended up sweeping out of the house, yet again, this time vowing the children should not come and stay with him again, he could have them for days, and that was all.

It was the rows that had made Caroline leave. She hadn't found anybody else, or discovered about his occasional wanderings for that matter, but gradually over the years the arguments had grown from disagreements and tiffs into full-blown rows and fights. Sometimes after a major flare-up they wouldn't speak to each other properly for days, and the atmosphere in the house became quite appalling. They could both see that things were going from bad to worse, and it was having a definite effect on the children. At last, Caroline had done something about it. She had waited until the summer holidays so that the children's school lives would not be too disrupted and then made her announcement.

“I've found somewhere else to live,” she told him when she came in one day. “The children and I are moving out at the weekend.” She spoke quite calmly this time. There were no hysterics or shouting. “It's a little house in Belmouth. There's a good school just round the corner for Debbie and Carl, and Peter can start at Belmouth Comp instead of Crosshills. It's got a far better reputation anyway.”

“I see you've got it all worked out,” said Mike wearily.

“Yes, I have.” Caroline agreed. “I'm sorry, Mike, but one of us had to do something. Dad helped me to find the house, and he's paid the first month's rent. You'll have to pay us maintenance of course, but that can be sorted. I can still get to work from there, so I shall have some income.” She looked at him sadly for a moment and said softly, “Oh Michael, whatever happened to us?”

Mike shrugged. “One of those things, I suppose. We just grew apart. Don't worry, it's probably for the best. We'll sort out the finances somehow, and at least you aren't far away. I can still see the kids.”

Perhaps it had been the uncertainty of his work that had contributed to their break. So many of the arguments had begun over money before they spiralled out of control. Working from home had made him feel shut in sometimes, and he'd felt the need to burst out, as if he were buried and had to fight his way out of smothering earth, and it was all too easy to put off switching on the computer and getting stuck in.

That had always been his problem, it was his problem now, even with Monday's deadline looming over him. He had promised the draft outlines of six more episodes of the sit-com he had written for a television company. The first series, written, ironically, just after Caroline had left, had been an instant success, much to Mike's and the TV company's surprise. What they had produced merely as a pot-boiler had caught the public's imagination and there were demands for more of the same.

When they had asked for the second series just before New Year, Mike had thrown a huge celebration party. He had invited everyone he knew, including everyone from the Circle. It was to be the beginning of his new life as a success. He hadn't felt much of a success since Caroline had left, despite the TV series. He wondered if it was worse to be left for another man, traded in for a new and improved model, or to be left because you were just too awful to live with and that even living as a single parent with three children was an improvement. He knew that the former had happened to Angela Haven across the road; Ian had found someone else and she had been devastated. Mike imagined he could sympathise with her, yet somehow simply being left seemed to him worse.

The party was in itself a success apart from a few minor irritations, like the younger Haven girl, Chantal, having too much to drink and being sick all over Oliver Hooper, who appeared to be exploring her attributes at the time. Luckily, her mother had already left, and he and the elder sister, Annabel, had cleaned her up, put her in Debbie's old room to sleep it off, and as far as he knew no word of the disaster leaked out into the Circle. He had seen the girl's grey-faced embarrassment when she had awoken in the morning and so he had refrained from teasing her. He had not taken Oliver to task either, except for making him help with the clearing up. Mike mentioned the incident to neither set of parents, there was no need to worry them with the teenage humiliations of their offspring and he had decided that the least said was soonest mended.

Living apart seemed in a strange way to bring Mike and Caroline closer together. There were no rows, hardly a disagreement even over arrangements for the children. Mike found he always looked forward to seeing her when he picked up the kids, and she always seemed pleased to see him too, often asking him into her for a drink and occasionally a meal. He had even wondered for a while, whether they might eventually get back together again, but he made no move in that direction and Caroline, hearing about his succession of girlfriends from the children and from old friends, drew away from him, and gradually any real chance of reconciliation slipped away. Mike was fairly certain now that she had found herself someone else. The children never mentioned anyone, but

Mike never asked and Caroline, he knew, would behave with complete circumspection.

He sighed and, downing the last of his coffee, switched on his computer. He thought for a moment of Alison in the garden, pushing Harriet on the swing. Perhaps he should find himself someone like her, placidly comfortable with her family and her home, but even as he thought about it, he knew that much as he liked Alison, he would soon find her incredibly boring. Far better to play the field, enjoy life and feel no commitment to anyone. He smiled wryly as he returned to his sit-com where he could make anyone do anything he liked, and began to type.

Paul Forrester had indeed left for work early that morning. He wanted to be in the office in particularly good time to look over all the projects he had on hand. He needed to have everything at his fingertips, details of recent sales, properties under offer and new properties just on the market. He wanted to be certain that all his paperwork was up to date, and that he had left nothing undone that he ought to have done.

Last night a message had been waiting when he got back from showing a house in Over Stretton just outside Belcaster, that Mr Fountain, the senior partner, wanted to see him first thing in the morning, and Paul had the feeling that it wasn't going to be a pleasant interview. Whispers of business difficulties within the firm and the possibility of redundancies had been buzzing round the office for some time now, rumours which fed on themselves until everyone was in a state of unease and Paul was afraid it was he who was going to be told that Johnson, Fountain, Estate Agents and Auctioneers, no longer required his services. It was always the same, he supposed, last in first out, and he wished yet again he had not allowed himself to be head-hunted away from Frederick Jones and Co where he had worked for the last ten years.

He had been introduced to James Fountain at a Round Table dinner, and they had had an informal chat about the work he was doing for Freddie Jones, about his family, about his prospects. When he thought about it afterwards, he realised he had been naïve to assume that the conversation had been merely a friendly exchange. When James Fountain followed it up with an invitation to bring Alison round for dinner, however he realised there was more to it. They spent a very convivial evening meeting James's wife, Monica, and business was hardly touched on, but both the Forresters felt they were on show.

“Just making sure we don't eat our peas with a knife, do you think?”

Alison asked dryly.

Paul laughed. “Probably. I wonder if we passed the test.”

He was invited for a formal interview the following week and discovered that they had indeed passed the test.

“We're looking for someone young and enthusiastic, with good qualifications to come into the firm,” James said, leaning on his desk and studying Paul over his steepled fingers. “Someone who, all things being equal, would become an associate partner within the year. Someone who could turn his hand to any aspect of the business and perhaps take on the opening and running of a new office. Working for old Freddie, you've had just the experience we need. It's been an excellent training ground for you, Paul, and from what I've heard around the town, you've certainly made the most of it.”

Paul found he was holding his breath and let it out as softly as he could, hardly able to believe what he was hearing, not daring to guess what might be going to come next.

“Don't you think it's time you moved on to bigger and better things?” James asked. “I assume you weren't planning to stay as jack of all trades to Freddie forever, were you?”

“No, well, that is, I've been very happy working for Freddie,” Paul admitted. “I hadn't really thought about any career moves.” But he was definitely thinking about one now, and how they could do with the extra money which had been laid temptingly laid before him. Their comparatively recent move to Dartmouth Circle had stretched them a bit, but rather than lose the opportunity of living there, he and Alison had decided to go for it. If he moved to Johnson, Fountain, the pressure would be eased considerably. At the time it had seemed too marvellous an opportunity to turn down, a dramatic increase in salary and improved prospects as several of the older staff would soon be reaching retirement age. There had been mention of an associate partnership within a year or so, meaning yet higher earnings, and of opening and running a branch office in Belmouth, where Paul would virtually be his own boss. After long and excited discussions with Alison about this apparent up-turn in their fortunes he had handed in his notice to Freddie Jones and accepted James Fountain's offer.

“I'm sorry to see you go, Paul,” Freddie Jones had said and he had meant it. His firm was his own, a one man band, and he had relied heavily on Paul as a negotiator, selling houses and doing surveys, while he, himself carried out a few surveys, took the occasional auction and dealt with some local authority work. “But, of course you must seize the opportunity, I'm afraid I can't match that salary, and I know how expensive a growing family can be. Alison doesn't work, does she?”

“Not at the moment,” Paul said. “We don't want her to work again at least until the children have both started school. I shall be sorry to leave you, too, Freddie, but they've made me an offer I can't refuse.”

Since he had made the change however, there had been an unexpected but definite downward turn in the property market and Mr Fountain had been overheard talking about the economic situation and discussing “cuts”, all of which fuelled the current rumours.

Paul hadn't yet told Alison of his fears. After all, they might come to nothing and there was no need to alarm her yet, but while maintaining a cheerful face at home, he worried more and more about what he was going to do if he were given the push. It was unlikely any other estate agent in Belcaster would employ him; they were all suffering from the drop in the housing market, and if a large company like Johnson, Fountain was experiencing difficulties, what must some of the smaller firms be going through?