The New Neighbours (45 page)

“And you'll get back together again.”

“No!” The vehemence of her reply startled both her parents, and they physically drew back and knew not to ask any more. For a moment or two they took refuge in the menu and when the waiter came gave their order.

“What was all this about the police?” Nick asked when the waiter had left them. “What was Shirley Redwood talking about?”

Madeleine gave a sigh. She realised that the question had had to come. “Last night, when we got home from the Dutch, everyone was a bit rowdy. Like, we'd been playing drinking games in the pub, OK? And everyone had had too much. Then we all came back to our place. I'd got in the beer you'd said to buy, you know, and some of the guys brought other stuff as well, and, like, well it got a bit out of hand. The music was very loud, and people were shouting and laughing and stuff, you know.”

Nick and Clare could well imagine and were both glad that they hadn't been living next door. “Couldn't you have turned it down?” asked Clare. “It was your party after all.”

Madeleine had the grace to blush and said, “I wasn't really with it, you know? I'd had a lot of beer. We'd been celebrating the Belchers' win over Loughborough, as well.” She paused and took a sip of water. “Anyway, Shirl's daughter, the one who's a bit doolally, she rang the police and complained and they arrived in a car. The door was open and they just walked in. I was asleep on the sofa, and the first I knew was when they switched off the music. I woke up then, and there they were in the living room. They said they'd had a complaint and could they look around. Some of the guys had been smoking pot I think. Anyway, they went upstairs…”

“Who went upstairs?” interrupted Nick. “The police?”

“Yes, they said they smelt cannabis and wanted to look around.”

“And you let them? You didn't have to, you know?”

“I didn't think, Dad,” Mad said miserably. “Like, they were there, OK, and were, well just looking. Anyway, they went upstairs and found Dan with Chantal Haven, the kid that lives at number four.”

“Kid! How old?”

“I don't know, Mum, but they'd been together in Charlie's room.”

Clare remembered the stripped bed and the open window and suddenly understood. “Did they arrest him?” she asked. “She must be under age.”

Mad shook her head. “No, I don't think so, he just left. Lots of people did, like, just slid away, you know. The police didn't try and stop them, just the policewoman took Chantal home.”

“And no one was arrested or anything?”

“No, they warned us, like, you know, that if we made any more noise, they'd take away the stereo equipment, but the party was over then and everyone went home.”

“So you all went to bed.”

“I didn't,” Mad replied. “I was too upset, I couldn't sleep.” She thought back to the moment when the police had gone.

“So what did you do?” prompted her mother.

Madeleine shrugged. “Went upstairs, cleared up Charlie's room. That's where they'd been, not my room.”

“Where was Charlie?” asked Clare. “Wasn't she at the party?”

“No. She's had to go home for a few days. There's some sort of family panic, I'm not sure what. Anyway, I cleared up in there and then, well, I don't know… I dozed a bit on the sofa. When I woke up I had a bath and went out. Mrs Peters, at number one? She was awake and sitting in her window, like she does. She waved and called me in for a cup of tea. I stayed there a bit and then I went into town. I went up by the cathedral. There was a service on, and I went in the back and just, like, sat there.”

Nick and Clare exchanged surprised glances. Madeleine wasn't known for going into cathedrals, as she'd often been heard to remark, “I don't do church!”

“The music was lovely,” she went on unaware of their glances. “When it was finished I got the plants from that garden shop round there and came home. I looked up to show Madge that I'd got the plants for next door, but she was asleep. Then I saw your car was here…”

“And remembered that we were coming to take you out for lunch!” smiled her mother.

Mad grinned ruefully, “Yeah, well, whatever. Sorry, Mum. I am pleased to see you both, really I am. It's just that so much has happened. Do you think the police will come back?”

“I can't see why they should,” Nick said reassuringly. “The party's over. They must get dozens of calls like that at a weekend, it was pretty routine for them. But,” he looked across at his daughter, “if they do come again, and want to search the house for some reason, don't let them in without a warrant, give me a call and by the time they've got one, I'll be there.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Madeleine smiled at him. “You're the best.”

When the food arrived Madeleine found herself surprisingly hungry, and realised that she hadn't really eaten since yesterday lunchtime, and with Nick and Clare being determinedly cheerful, they got through the meal and found that despite everything, they'd all quite enjoyed themselves.

As they went out into the car park, they heard a voice behind them in the bar. Mad spun round, and at her reaction her parents looked round as well. Dan was at the bar, a pint in his hand, with a small group of friends. For a moment his eyes met Mad's, and then slid away. Mad, her head held erect, turned away and linking her arms through those of her parents, walked steadily out of the door to the car.

When they arrived back at the Madhouse, they found it had been completely cleared. There was no sign of the party, and not even the kitchen had its usual clutter of washing up and unwrapped food. Cirelle and Dean were drinking tea in the living room.

Madeleine offered her parents tea as well, but Nick shook his head. “I think we'll be making tracks,” he said, now he was sure that Madeleine wasn't going to be in the house on her own, and he and Clare left her with her friends.

“Thanks for doing all the clearing up,” Mad said, collecting herself a mug of tea from the kitchen and dropping down on to the sofa. “Sorry you got stuck with it all, but I'd forgotten all about my parents, you know?”

“Yeah, no probs,” Cirelle said cheerfully. “Pepper helped as well.”

“Where's Ben?” Mad asked.

“Working,” Dean answered. “Had a lunchtime shift at the Dutch. Wasn't that really weird, him being with Mrs Hammond? Couldn't believe my eyes when they came upstairs. I mean, she's old!”

“Not really. About thirty, not that much older than Ben anyway,” Cirelle pointed out.

Dean shrugged. “Whatever. Still seems weird to me.”

At that moment the front door opened and they heard Ben coming in. He went into his own room first and then came up the stairs to the living room.

“Hi,” he said laconically. “Any tea?” He went into the kitchen and reappeared with a steaming mug. He looked at the other three and said without preamble, “I'm afraid I'm going to be moving out.”

This was greeted with amazement. “Moving out!” echoed Mad,

“Why?”

“Decided to take that room Joe's offered me at the pub,” Ben replied. “You've had the rent for this term, Mad. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else for next, OK?”

Mad shrugged. “I suppose so, if that's what you've decided. But why, Ben? Why have you suddenly changed your mind?”

Ben looked at her with mild exasperation. “Christ, Mad,” he said. “Why do you think?”

“Because of last night,” Mad said flatly.

“Yeah. You all saw Jill last night. We'd been seeing each other for some time, but that's all over now. Her husband was outside last night and saw us together, so… well, it just seems easier if we aren't neighbours and don't keep bumping into each other, you know?”

“But surely…” began Mad.

“Sorry, Mad,” Ben said firmly, “but I'm moving out. I talked to Joe today. It's all arranged. I'll move my stuff tomorrow.”

Silence fell and then Mad said softly, “Not one of our more successful evenings, was it? Did you know it was Melanie Whatsit from next door who called the police, not old Colby after all?”

Cirelle nodded. “Yeah,” she said ruefully, “I went round to take Todd out as usual, and Melanie told me she didn't want me to help anymore.”

“But that's ridiculous!” cried Mad. “What has last night got to do with whether you help with the children or not? How stupid!”

Cirelle shrugged. “She said she was leaving anyway. Said she didn't want my help with her children, like I was contaminated in some way? Said I'd been trying to steal Todd away from her. Like, I'd been trying to make him love me more than her or some such shit?”

“Excuse me?” Mad interjected. “She said what?”

Cirelle shrugged. “Anyway, she's going back home and good riddance! Her husband's changed his job or something, so he won't be away from home so much. She told me to get lost. I told her to piss off!”

“Cirelle,” Dean exploded with laughter, “that's not like you!”

“That's how I felt,” she said laughing too. “I should think David'll be over the moon she's going, she's been a real pain and he hasn't found it at all easy with them all living there.”

“Tell you something else,” Dean said suddenly. “I think that old biddy, Madge Thingy was taken into hospital today.”

“What!” cried Mad. “Madge? When? I only saw her this morning. She was OK then. Are you sure?”

“Don't know anything for sure,” admitted Dean, “but soon after you'd gone with your parents an ambulance arrived. The doctor from opposite was there and they all went inside the house and came out with a stretcher.”

“But that's awful,” Mad exclaimed. “I had a cup of tea with her this morning. She wasn't ill then. Who'll know where they've taken her?”

Dean shrugged. “The doctor I suppose. It was the woman.”

“Dr Fran, that's what she's called,” Cirelle said. “She comes in to see Melanie sometimes. Why don't you go over and ask her? She's sure to know.”

“Yeah,” Mad thought for a moment. “Yeah, I think I will.”

She went at once and having glanced at the dark windows of Madge's house, she knocked on the doctor's front door. Fran answered and invited Mad inside.

“I'm sorry to trouble you, Doctor,” Mad said, “But I heard Mrs Peters has been taken to hospital and I wondered which one. I'd like to go and visit her.”

Fran led her into the study. “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid what you've heard isn't quite right.” She smiled sadly at Madeleine, “I'm afraid Madge died this morning.”

“She what?” whispered Mad. “Oh no. She can't have. I was with her this morning, she wasn't ill. She was fine.”

“She passed away very peacefully,” Fran said, and seeing the effect that her words were having on Mad, she put a sympathetic arm around her shoulders. “Just went to sleep in her chair and didn't wake up. The best possible way, you know.” She paused allowing Mad to take in the news, then she said. “I know you used to pop in and see her from time to time, she always enjoyed your visits you know.” She thought for a moment. “I wonder if you could do me a big favour.”

Mad looked at her blankly, still thinking of her visit to Madge's that morning. There had been no sign then that death was hovering in the background. Madge had been fine then, alert and sympathetic, full of sensible advice. Mad stared at the doctor, almost overcome by her sudden sense of loss.

“I just wondered,” continued Dr Fran gently, “it's Spike you see, the cat? Andrew has asked me to look after him until he can find another home for him. I just wondered if you'd be prepared to take him in for a couple of days, just until something is sorted out for him.”

Mad's eyes refocused and she said, “Spike! Poor Spike. He will miss her.”

“So could you look after him for a few days? I know Andrew would be very grateful.”

“He may not want to come to our house,” pointed out Mad.

“No, well if he doesn't, I'll give you a key and perhaps you could go into his house and feed him there, but it's worth a try don't you think?”

Mad shrugged. “Suppose so,” she said.

Together they went across to the dark, silent house opposite, and Fran let them in. As they went upstairs, Spike appeared on the landing, mewing piteously. He rubbed himself against Mad's legs and she picked him up. The miaows changed to purrs as he snuggled against her.

“He obviously likes you,” Fran said. “Will you give it a go?”

“Yes,” Mad agreed, “Yes, of course, but I'll start off feeding him here. He can't get in or out of my house, there's no cat flap.”

When she got home at last she told the others about Madge and the cat, and they told her that Charlie had phoned from Ireland. Cirelle said, “Charlie rang. She says she'll be back at the end of the week.”

“How's her sister?”

“Out of danger, but still in hospital, so she's staying to be with her parents until Friday. She said not to worry about her, things are fine. She certainly sounded more cheerful than usual.”

I wish things were fine here, thought Mad sadly, as she went upstairs reluctantly to do some long overdue work. At least concentrating on an essay might help take her mind off other things. But the events of the weekend hung round her like grey mist and she did no work at all.

Angela Haven sat in her kitchen and stared at the policewoman who had come to see her.

“You see, Mrs Haven, if Chantal is only fifteen as you say, this man Dan has committed an offence. She's under age.”

“Yes, I see,” Angela said bleakly. She was shattered by the suggestions that the policewoman made, Chantal in bed with one of the students. How could she? And yet a tiny voice at the back of her brain told her that it was true. Chantal, in her mini-skirts or tight jeans was so immature in so many ways, trying to be streetwise. Aware of her growing sexuality, yet unable to deal with its manifestations, she might well have got herself into such a position. “Did you talk to Chantal about this when you… found them?” Angela asked.