The New Neighbours (3 page)

“As bad as getting divorced,” Ben told his mate Flintlock. “Watched my parents do that. Shan't get caught in that trap again!”

Flintlock had grinned. “Yeah, you will, with some other bird.”

Ben had laughed too, “Well, maybe, but not for a hell of a long time. Love 'em and keep 'em at arm's length. That's what I say. Let them look forward to seeing you, not fall over them night and morning and,” he added as an afterthought, “you can steer well clear when it's PMT time!”

Definitely, Angie was not a girl he wanted to move in with. He still liked his space. He looked forward to seeing her in the evenings all right, to going to parties with her, to going to bed with her, but she was not the centre of his life and they both knew it. Angie wanted that to change. Ben didn't.

He was just turning his attention back to Richard III when there was a banging on his door. Only one person knocked like that.

“Come in, Mad,” he called and she exploded into the room, her face split into a beam. She grabbed him in a bear hug.

“Guess what,” she cried, as she flung herself down on to his bed. “We've got it!”

“Got what?”

“The house, dumb-dumb, the house, and it's brilliant!” She beamed across at him. “You'll love it. It's in Dartmouth Circle, so it's right near the Union. Couldn't be better, could it?”

“Sounds great,” Ben agreed.

“You are still on, aren't you? Like, to share, I mean? You haven't found anywhere else?” This had been worrying Madeleine. She knew the time for finding the house had run short. All the students needed to be certain of somewhere to live in September before they went down for the long summer holidays, and she had known that Ben was beginning to look around.

“No, sounds great,” repeated Ben. “Is it definite?”

“Yeah, contracts exchanged today, and completion in a couple of weeks. But Mr Short, the guy who owns it, says we can go down any time and look at it. There's lots to be done on it, but Dad says he can have it all ready for the beginning of next term, no problem. Let's go out and celebrate.”

“Have you told the others? Are they still on?

“As far as I know, though I'm not sure about Mandy, I think she's been looking elsewhere. I came to tell you first, but I'm on my way to tell them now. Coming?”

Ben looked at the work on his desk. “Can't, not now. Got to hand this in tomorrow, but I'm working at the Dutch tonight. Bring them there and we'll celebrate then.”

Mad got up from the bed. “OK,” she said. “See you later.”

“Oh, Mad, if Mandy has changed her mind, I know someone who might be interested in taking her place.”

Madeleine paused by the door. “Oh, who's that?”

“Girl on my medieval history course, Charlotte Murphy. Her room's on Bottom East. She was saying the other day that her plans for next year have fallen through. You know her, tall willowy blond, always wears lots of chains round her neck?”

“Yeah, I know the one. Nice, is she?” enquired Mad with a grin.

“Yeah, good kid. She's had to repeat her second year because she was ill. And before you go stirring it up with Angie, I see her at lectures, that's all.”

Madeleine laughed. “Fine, no probs. If Mandy has found somewhere else we'll ask Charlotte.”

“Charlie, she's called Charlie.”

“OK, well, I must away. Back to your work my man, and we'll see you down the Dutch later.”

Madeleine waltzed off down the corridor to spread the good news to the others. She could hear Cirelle's reggae music throbbing through her door and knowing she would never be heard above the beat, Madeleine didn't bother to knock, but simply went in.

Cirelle looked up and smiled. She was sitting on her bed braiding her hair. “Hi Mad,” she said, and reached across to turn the volume of her stereo down a fraction. “What are you at?”

“The house,” crowed Madeleine. “That's what. We've got it! Contracts exchanged today.”

“Hey, man, that's great. Where is it? Is there room for us all as planned?”

“Yup, there're five bedrooms, or there will be when we've finished working on the place, so that's you and me and Mandy, and Ben and Dean.”

“Not sure about Mandy,” Cirelle said, her fingers nimbly plaiting and twisting her hair without pause. “Like, I saw her yesterday, and she said she couldn't wait for your dad to get somewhere, and she'd been offered a place with Billy Thomas and his crowd, you know down the Friary end of town? She might not have taken it yet.”

“Well, if she has, too bad,” shrugged Madeleine. “Ben says there's a girl on his course, Charlie Murphy, who's looking for somewhere. He says she's OK, so if Mandy's out we'll ask her.”

“Where is this house anyway?” asked Cirelle.

“Dartmouth Circle. You know it? Just off Dartmouth Road behind St Joseph's Church. Couldn't be better could it?”

“Yes, of course I know St Joseph's,” said Cirelle. “Sounds great. When do we get in?”

“Not till September for you. Dad says there's masses of work to be done on it, but you know he's a builder, so it won't be a problem. But it's got everything we need, or will have. We can all go and see it. Mr Short, who we're buying it from, says just to give him a ring and come round anytime. I told Ben, and we're going to celebrate in the Dutch tonight.”

Cirelle finished her hair and grinned across at Madeleine. “Great. I'm going to the gym before supper, but I'll be ready to go down the Dutch after that. Come and get me when you're going. Right?”

Madeleine jumped to her feet, already on her way to the door, before she darted back to Cirelle and hugged her. “Cool, eh?” she cried and rushed out to find Dean and Mandy.

There was a sudden emptiness as she left the room, almost as if she'd left a vacuum in her place. Cirelle smiled at the swinging door and got up to close it. She was used to the way Madeleine moved through the world, always rushing enthusiastically from one thing to the next; totally different from Cirelle herself, who liked to consider every move she made before committing herself to anything. Once committed, she was as enthusiastic as anyone else, but life had taught her that thought needed to be given to every action.

She had taken a long time to decide whether to take up the place she had been offered at Belcaster University. Brought up the eldest of five children in a small house in Brixton, she had been very dubious about launching herself into the world of higher education instead of getting a job locally. She had never been away from home by herself except on one school field trip and only twice on family holidays when they had stayed in a rented caravan in Dorset. The idea of living the other side of the country, in an unfamiliar town where she knew no one, was daunting in the extreme.

“I'm not sure I'm cut out for student life,” she admitted to her family, and her wide brown eyes were troubled.

Her parents, who had not been able to stay at school beyond their ‘O' levels, had been encouraging and supportive.

“Of course you must go, Cirelle,” her mother Phyllis had urged. “You've earned that place, girl, and you gotta go. It's the chance of a lifetime.” She had smiled proudly at her daughter. “Fancy a daughter of mine going to get a degree.”

“Hey, steady on, Mum,” laughed Cirelle. “I only just got the place. Supposing I can't do the work when I get there?”

“What kind of talk is this?” reproved her mother. “Of course you'll be able to do it. You're a clever girl, Cirelle. Don't waste this chance to get on. And,” she added with a twinkle, “it'll make Gary work harder. He'll be determined to show he's as clever as you!”

Cirelle smiled at that, thinking of her younger brother Gary about to do his GCSEs, and always keen to prove himself as good as if not better than his older sister.

“But I could be earning,” she pointed out a little guiltily. “You know, helping with the bills and that.”

Phyllis engulfed her daughter in a bear-like hug. “Sure you could, babe, but you don't have to. Dad and I can manage like we always have. You'll be able to get a loan, won't you? We'll all get by, don't you worry. Don't you think I'm proud as punch being able to boast about you at work? My daughter, doing her degree in English at Belcaster University! And as for your granddad, he's nearly bursting with pride!”

Her father, always less demonstrative, just hugged her and said, “Go for it, girl. Wish I'd had the chance.”

As the time for her to leave for Belcaster drew nearer, Cirelle found herself dreading it, going to a strange place where she knew no one, had no friends.

“Everyone will be in the same boat,” her mother pointed out. “All the new students will be as nervous as you. Find a nice church in the area,” Phyllis went on. “You'll make friends then, people who think as you do.”

So Cirelle had arrived at Belcaster last year and been allocated a room in a hall of residence, and her life had taken off because the first person she had met that first evening was the girl in the next room, Madeleine Richmond,

She was very quickly absorbed into the group of students on her landing, and gradually got to know the others on her course. There were plenty of other West Indian students and though at first they gravitated to each other, they were soon all involved with any student who happened to have the same interests. There was no feeling of being a separate group, and her closest friends were those in hall with her.

When the time came to think about where they would all live in their second year, Cirelle had been pleased when Madeleine had asked her to come in with her in a house somewhere.

“It'll be great, Cirelle, you'll see,” Madeleine had said. “I'd love you to share if you think you could live with me.”

On the whole, Cirelle thought she could. She knew that she and Mad were quite different from each other, but had long ago decided that was why they got on so well together. Madeleine, exuding self-confidence, was impetuous and immediately affectionate, Cirelle, on the other hand, naturally more reserved, was cautious and less outgoing. Madeleine's relationship with her boyfriend, Dan, was constantly tempestuous, whereas Cirelle never had a “boyfriend” as such, but was happy to go out in a crowd. She had been to stay with Mad's family on a couple of weekends and had been made very welcome, slipping easily into the family circle. Over the year, a firm friendship had been forged, and Madeleine's invitation simply reinforced it.

In those first weeks, however, Cirelle had followed her mother's advice, and had discovered St Joseph's. Though she was nothing like as regular a churchgoer as her mother would have wished, she did sometimes go there to church and had offered to help occasionally making teas and coffees in the St Joe's drop-in day centre.

“It's mostly the elderly and disabled who use the centre,” Frank Marsh, the vicar explained, “so you'd be doubly welcome, a new face and someone who's young as well.”

Cirelle found she enjoyed going and talking to the St Joe's customers and often wore the T-shirt Frank had given her with “Not just Holy Joes at St Joe's” on it.

“We can do with any publicity you care to give us,” he said with a smile, “and you make a delightful model! Oh, dear,” he added at once. “Is that sexist?”

Cirelle grinned at him. “No, Frank, it's a compliment.”

The vicar looked relieved. “Oh, good,” he said. “That's what it was meant to be, but you never know these days how people will take things. Don't worry about being on a rota, just drop in when you can, we'll be delighted to see you.”

Cirelle had taken him at his word and when she had the odd half-hour she often spent it at St Joe's, serving teas, washing up or just chatting to the customers. She had an easy way with people once she'd overcome her initial shyness, and the regulars at St Joe's soon looked forward to her visits.

She thought now about the news Madeleine had brought. She was delighted that they had definitely got a house as she too had been thinking she must try and make other arrangements for next year if they hadn't found somewhere soon. It was in the perfect position, too. Dartmouth Circle was a nice area, just minutes walk from the college union building and from St Joe's, as well.

“Sounds great,” she announced to her room and switching off her music she gathered up her sports bag and set off for her workout in the gym, feeling at one with herself. As she passed Ben's room she knocked and at his call stuck her head round the door.

“Heard the good news?” she asked. “About the house.”

“Yeah, great, isn't it? Mad whirled through earlier.”

Cirelle laughed. “She whirled by me as well, on her way to tell the others. She said we're celebrating in the Dutch tonight, so I'll see you there, unless you fancy coming to the gym now, you could do with a workout.”

Ben pulled a face. “Can't,” he said. “I must get this done for tomorrow.”

“OK, see you then.”

“Yeah, I'm working from seven, I'll see you there.”

The Flying Dutchman was very busy that evening, and Ben was working at full stretch for the first hour or so of his shift, but by the time Madeleine and Cirelle came in, the rush had eased a little and he was able to chat to them over the bar.

“Where are Mandy and Dean?” he asked. “Are they still coming in with us?”

“Dean is,” Madeleine replied. “He's dead chuffed we've got a place.

He'll be in later.”

“But not Mandy?”

Madeleine shook her head. “Don't think so. I did see her in the canteen earlier, and she said she thought she was going in with Billy Thomas. Said she couldn't wait while we got our act together and had virtually committed herself to Billy's house now.” Madeleine shrugged. “She can suit herself. I wouldn't want to live over at Friary if I had the chance to live in Dartmouth Circle, would you?”