The New Neighbours (26 page)

Dean grinned at Chantal entirely unfazed. “Sorry,” he said, “I should have ordered it from Ben. I suppose she knows you.”

Chantal's embarrassment had given way to anger and she said tightly,

“She used to live opposite, in your house.” Then in a cooler voice, she added, “I don't drink rum anyway, thanks all the same.”

For a while Chantal let the talk and laughter swirl about her. She longed to be part of it, but didn't know what to say and was terrified of making a fool of herself. Dean stood beside her stool, ensuring she was part of the group and Ben came up to join in over the bar whenever he wasn't serving, but they were all talking about people and events that Chantal didn't know, and for once the one thing Chantal didn't want to talk about was herself.

Gradually the talk drifted round to Madge's barbecue, and they began to describe it to Angie, who hadn't been there.

Then Mad turned to Chantal and said, “Chantal can tell us who everyone was, spill all the local scandal. We only knew our neighbours before today.”

“Oh, Sheil and Shirl,” Chantal began dismissively.

“Sheil and Shirl?” Mad gave a hoot of laughter, “Is that what they're known as?”

Chantal shrugged, “By me and Annabel, anyway.”

“Go on,” urged Mad. “Tell us about them.”

“Well, Sheil,” said Chantal, warming to her task “that's Colby at number six, she's a right cow. Got her nose into everybody's business and always moaning on about stuff. Shirl's OK though.”

“Old Madge seems cool,” Mad remarked.

Chantal shrugged. “Dunno. Don't see her much.”

“Who were the guys doing the barbecue?” Charlie asked casually.

“Mike Callow and Steve Hooper. Mike's separated or divorced or something and lives alone 'cept when his kids come over or he's got a bird in, which is mostly. Steve's married to Annie and's got Emma and Oliver. Emma's OK, but Oliver's really skanky.”

“Who were the people with the bar in their drive?” asked Ben.

“Hammonds. They're well snooty. Got an au pair called Isabelle. She's cool, she's French.”

“Might have known you'd notice the au pair,” sniped Angie. She was hurt she hadn't been included in the barbecue invitation, especially when she discovered that Dan had been there. She didn't like Dan and never felt at her best when he was one of the group. Now they all laughed, but Ben was well aware that the comment hadn't been as light-hearted as it had appeared. He was getting tired of Angie's gibes and they were becoming more frequent these days.

“Well,” he said in a mock French accent, “she was very sexy!”

“Didn't look at you, though,” teased Charlie.

“Didn't look at any of you,” grinned Cirelle. “You guys must be losing your touch!”

The bar closed at eleven and they all wandered back towards the Circle. There was a great deal of laughter on the way and Chantal felt a shaft of pleasure run through her as Dean draped an arm over her shoulder as they walked.

Now I'm really one of them, she thought, and she leaned against Dean a little, to let him know she liked his arm there. As they walked, she planned what she would say when they got back to the Circle, and so when Dean said, “Coming in for coffee?” she was able to reply casually, “Can't I'm afraid. Early start tomorrow, and still got work to do.”

Dean accepted it without query and when they reached her house she slipped out from under his arm, saying, “See you around.”

“Yeah, see you, Chantal. Glad you came.”

As quietly as she could, she let herself into the house, but she knew it wouldn't be any good, Mum would never have gone to bed with her still out somewhere. She was right. Angela was still sitting in her chair battling with Annabel's news and its implications. She heard the sound of the front door closing gently and roused herself from her thoughts. Chantal! Surely she was already home. Swamped by Annabel's news, she quite forgotten that Chantal had been over to the student house for coffee. It was past eleven now, she should have been home hours ago.

“Chantal! Is that you?” she called sharply. “Do you know what time it is? Where on earth have you been?”

In the split second before answering Chantal decided that her mother hadn't checked at the student house and risked, “Over at number seven, Mum.” She even managed to inject a note of injury into her voice as she replied. “You said I could go.”

“Yes, I did, but I also said not to be late. It's past eleven and it's school tomorrow.”

“Sorry, Mum,” Chantal said, “I forgot the time.”

“Yes, well, go straight to bed now, and another time I shall expect you home by ten at the latest. Understand?”

They kissed each other goodnight, and Chantal, surprised and glad to have got off so lightly, went upstairs, to be greeted by yet another surprise. Annabel was waiting on the landing, and with a finger to her lips beckoned her sister into her room.

“What's up,” asked Chantal as Annabel closed the door softly behind them.

“We've got to talk,” Annabel said. “Sit down.”

Chantal did as she was bid, and waited expectantly as Annabel sat swinging on her chair. “Well, what?” she said at last.

“I've been talking to Mum,” her sister began, “and, well, I've told her… I'm pregnant.”

“Pregnant!” echoed Chantal, amazed, “What? You?”

“Of course, idiot, otherwise I wouldn't say it, would I?”

Chantal stared at her wide-eyed, but as she said nothing more Annabel went on hurriedly, “Mum wants to know who the father is, but I'm not going to tell her, not now anyway, and I want you to swear you won't tell her either.”

“But I don't know who…” began Chantal, and then as light dawned she said, “unless… is it Scott Manders?” She saw Annabel's lips tighten and said, “It is Scott, isn't it?”

“I'm not telling you who it is,” Annabel said firmly. “Then if they ask you if I've told you, you can say no and it'll be the truth.”

“But I can guess,” pointed out Chantal.

“I know, and that's what I'm asking you not to do. Please Chantal, it's important to me, just say you don't know. Please?”

“OK,” agreed Chantal, “but what are you going to do? Are you going to have an abortion?”

Annabel shook her head. “No, I'm going to have the baby. I want to have it.”

“But will you keep it or have it adopted?” Chantal was nothing if not direct. “What's happening about your exams?”

“I don't know. I'm going to keep it. I don't want to give it away, but nothing is decided yet, about anything. Look Chantal, all I'm asking you to do is to play dumb. When they ask, say you haven't a clue who the father is, that I never discussed him with you; which is also true!”

Chantal got up and gave her sister a hug. “Don't worry, I won't say a word. I know you'd do the same for me, that's what sisters are for, eh!”

Annabel returned the hug. “Bless you, Cha, I won't forget.”

Chantal punched her lightly on the shoulder and said, “I must go to bed. Mum's already well annoyed that I'm in so late.”

Annabel looked at her watch, “Not surprised,” she said. “Where've you been?”

“Out with the students,” Chantal admitted. “It was great.”

“Yeah? Well you just be careful, they're all much older than you.”

“Hey, get you!” mocked Chantal. “You're a fine one to talk!”

Well, that all seemed to go very well,” Shirley Redwood said as they closed the front door behind them. “I think Madge thoroughly enjoyed herself, don't you?”

“Looked like it,” agreed David. He headed for the garden door at the end of the passage.

“Cup of tea?” Shirley called after him.

“Yes, please. Will you bring it out? I just want to do a few things in the greenhouse.”

“Won't be long,” promised Shirley and went upstairs to the kitchen to put the kettle on. As she waited for it to boil she looked out of the window and watched David as he pottered in and out of his greenhouse. She felt a sudden and great surge of love for him as she watched him working methodically among his plant pots.

From the window she could see across the wilderness next door to the Colby's garden beyond, neat and tidy, but somehow not cherished like David's, and it made her think for a moment about the Colbys.

Does Sheila feel about Gerald as I about David she wondered? They never seem quite at ease together. There's no easy banter as there is between us, their minds don't seem to run in tandem, there's no harmony. It's sad, Shirley thought. It's as though they live side by side rather than together. And yet they've been married at least as long as we have. Perhaps it's because they haven't any children.

Sheila had never talked about having no children, at least not to Shirley, but Mary Jarvis had once said that she thought Sheila wasn't able to.

“You'd think they'd adopt,” Shirley had remarked, unable to conceive of a life without a child.

“Maybe they didn't want to,” Mary said gently. “For some people that seems a risk.”

“You don't know what you're getting, you mean?”

“Well, you don't, do you?”

“No,” Shirley considered. “I suppose not. Even so, I think if I couldn't have had children I'd have adopted.”

Mary smiled. “I think I would too,” she said. “But maybe they didn't want any. I don't think Sheila really likes children very much, you know.”

“If they hadn't wanted any, Sheila would have said just that,” Shirley said firmly. “She would never have admitted that she couldn't have any.”

“Maybe not, but she may have been disappointed about it for all that.”

Shirley made the tea and carried two mugs down to the garden. David emerged from the greenhouse and they sat together on the bench in the late afternoon sun.

“They seem a nice enough bunch next door,” Shirley said. “Let's hope they don't make too much noise. I could hear their music last night.”

David laughed. “So could I, but not when I had the television on. You're getting to sound like Sheila!”

Shirley laughed too. “Heaven forfend!” she said. “But I was thinking about her just now. She doesn't quite know how to talk to young people, does she? I mean, she always sounds a bit awkward. Probably because she's never had teenagers of her own!”

“Lucky her!” David said with feeling.

“Oh David! How can you? You don't meant that.”

“No, of course I don't,” David soothed, “but there are occasions when children seem to be more trouble than they're worth.”

“And you don't mean that either,” scolded his wife.

“Probably not,” David grinned, “but I thought when they were grown up and off our hands, we wouldn't have to worry about them anymore.”

“You always worry about your children,” Shirley said. “It's just different worries when they're grown up.”

As if on cue the phone rang and Shirley got up to answer it. “That'll probably be Melanie now,” she said as she went indoors. “She said she'd ring sometime today.”

“Mum?” Melanie's voice cracked as she heard her mother speak, breaking on a sob.

“Mel, darling, what is it? What on earth's the matter?”

“I can't…” Melanie's voice failed her again as she began to cry.

“Can't what? Melanie… what can't you do?” The sobbing continued. “Melanie, for God's sake tell me what's the matter?” Shirley spoke sharply, “I can't help if you can't tell me. Has something happened? Is it one of the children?” Melanie still seemed unable to control her voice enough to explain.

“Is Peter there?” Shirley asked. “Mel, is Peter in the house?”

“No,” Melanie managed. “He's had to go away. Mum I can't cope. I just can't!”

“All right,” Shirley said thinking quickly as to what was best to say, and do in the situation. “Calm down and tell me quietly what the problem is. Come on, love, get a hold of yourself.”

She heard her daughter blow her nose noisily and then take a deep breath. “Peter has had to go up north, to one of the factories there. There's some problem with some plant or other and they've sent him to sort it out.”

“How long has he gone for?” Shirley asked.

Melanie sniffed. “Don't know. He doesn't know. As long as it takes, he says.”

“And when did he go?”

“This morning. Mum, I rang you at lunchtime, but you were out.” Her tone was accusing.

“Yes, we were at a barbecue in the Circle,” Shirley said, and not saying that they did have a life of their own and didn't simply sit waiting for their daughter to phone.

“It's been a dreadful day,” Melanie wailed. “Todd's been awful, throwing tantrums, and Suzie won't stop crying. I think she's teething. And I didn't sleep last night worrying about Peter going, but he said he had to go. He said I must get a grip and start coping, but I can't, Mum, I just can't.” The tears began to flow again. Shirley said nothing for a moment or two while she considered what it was best to suggest.

It's always so difficult on the end of a phone, she thought despairingly. Words of comfort are useless and somehow whatever I say is wrong. If I'm sympathetic, she cries all the more, and if I'm bracing, she thinks I don't care.

“Listen Mel, darling,” she began carefully, “try not to cry and listen…” but from down the phone she heard a shriek, and the receiver was obviously dropped and dangling. She could hear the sound of children crying and Melanie shouting, of chaos cascading.

At last Melanie came back to the phone and in a voice choked with tears said, “Mummy, I can't cope any more. Please come.”

“It's all right, darling,” Shirley promised, “I'm on my way.”