by Tara Ford
A small, red graze, glistened on Georgie’s left cheekbone.
“Looks like you’ve cut your cheek,” Tiff remarked. “Are you OK?”
Placing a grubby hand to her face, Georgie winced as her fingers brushed across the raw wound. “Fell over.” She let out an unconvincing chuckle. “Not the first time.”
“Georgie was saying the other day that her dog is very strong – needs a lot of walking.” Joe smiled warmly. “This is Tiffany – my partner.”
“Tiff. I prefer to be called Tiff.”
“Hello Tiff,” said Georgie. “It’s lovely to meet you. You are one lucky lady.” Flicking a glance towards Joe, her smirk was flirtatiously unnerving. “Anyhow, I’d better go. I’ve got a lot to do today.” Georgie eyed Joe, who was aimlessly flicking his paintbrush up and down the fence, disregarding the job in hand. “Bye Joe. See you again soon, I hope.” With that, she trundled off down her garden path, dragging the weary dog behind her. She disappeared through her front door and slammed it shut.
“Bye Joe – see you again soon, I hope,” sneered Tiff, under her breath. “What’s all that about? Did you see the way she looked at you?”
Joe tutted and rolled his eyes. “Tiffany – what has got into you?”
“She fancies you – and it’s, Tiff, if you don’t mind,” she whispered.
“Sorry babe. So what if she does?” Placing the paintbrush across the tin of gleaming white paint, Joe stood up and stretched. “Come here, you.” Beckoning to Tiff, he reached out a hand and pulled her up, towards him. “She can fancy me all she likes. I don’t care. She could never compare to you.” Kissing her forehead, he placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed her. “Now stop being so insecure. I love you Miss Cuthbert and that’s that.”
And that was exactly what Tiff needed to hear. She knew it anyway. But sometimes she just needed to hear it a little more often. As always, Joe managed to say the right things at the right time.
“I know you do,” she sighed, before moving away to the next unpainted section of picket fencing. “I know you do…”
That woman had been out with her dog for a long time though. She looked like she’d been dragged through a prickly bush, backwards – or forwards, it wouldn’t have made much difference which way. What had Tiff missed this morning? Had Georgie really fallen over? Or had she met up with Alvin and had rampant sex against a tree trunk, while the dog mooched around the fields? Tiff imagined Alvin’s gold pants glistening in the sunshine as he thrusted against Georgie’s crotch. Maybe a branch had caught her face as they swung through the trees, playing Tarzan and Jane? Or had Alvin-aka-Goldfinger been rubbing his Pussy Galore up the wrong way and they’d got into a bit of a rough and tumble in the bushes? Now Tiff’s musing was getting really ridiculous. Wasn’t it?
Peering around the green with a hand shielding his eyes from the glaring sunshine, Joe’s smug expression said it all.
“It does look good,” said Tiff, following his gaze.
“Best one on the close, I’d say.”
“Umm…” Tiff lowered her voice. “Shame that house hasn’t got a picket fence,” she said pointing to number six. “At least they would all be the same then – even though some aren’t painted at all.”
Joe nodded his head and turned to admire their brilliant white fence again. “Definitely need to have a tidy-up in the garden now.”
“We can do it tomorrow. As long as you don’t have a hangover.”
Grinning sarcastically, Joe walked through the gate and looked around. “Get rid of that thing for a start.”
“But it’s quite sweet and that little old woman comes in and sits on it.”
“Yeah, exactly. Have you found out why yet?”
Tiff shook her head. “No – haven’t been able to catch her.”
The thing was – Tiff could have caught the old woman on at least two occasions but she just hadn’t known what to say to her. What are you doing in my garden? That sounded too abrupt. Why do you think you can come in here and sit down? Again, that was far too discourteous. Maybe, a softer approach was needed. Hello there – can I help you at all? Why hadn’t she thought of it before? It was pretty simple really. All she needed to do was strike up a conversation with the woman and find out why she came into their garden to sit on the bench under the window. Tiff subconsciously chastised herself for always creating more of a problem than there needed to be.
“I will catch her next time. Let’s keep the bench for now.”
“OK, we’ll sort the weeds out and cut some of those bushy things back then.”
“Think they’re fuchsias – not weeds.” Tiff giggled. “They’ll look nice in the summer.” Standing in the middle of the front garden, with her hands on her hips, Tiff surveyed the borders. “We’ll keep that,” she said, pointing to a small, straggly hydrangea. “I’m sure I could trim it and tidy it up. And that one, we’ll keep that… and those.”
“OK. So what shall I dig up?”
Tiff shrugged her shoulders, turned her wrist and looked down at her watch. “Suppose we’ve got another hour.” She sighed. “I do need to wash my hair and have a bath before tonight though. Just dig up the weeds in between the bushes.”
“No problem. I’ll do it and you can supervise. I can’t tell the difference between a weed and a bush.”
At 6.40pm, Tiff glided down the stairs and wafted into the kitchen. “What do you think?” she asked a gobsmacked Joe before twirling round on her toes.
“You can’t go out looking like that.”
Tiff frowned and a puzzled look crept across her face.
“I’ll be wanting to have mad passionate sex with you all night. You look so sexy.”
Although they’d been together for a couple of years, Joe still managed to make her blush. She looked down at her dress coyly. “You like it then?”
“Like it?” Joe advanced towards her with two small glasses of white wine in his hands. “I love it.”
Taking a glass, Tiff sipped at the chilled fruit wine. She needed a drink before they went to the barbecue, to calm her nerves. She peered down at her dress and lovingly smoothed it down. “Got it from ASDA, would you believe.”
“You look lovely babe.”
The peach dolly shoes complimented Tiff’s new dress perfectly. A strappy little summery number with a pinched-in waist and full, knee-length skirt, the light, cotton fabric felt nice on her skin. The large lemon, peach and rose flower print suited her complexion and hair colour. She’d also applied some make-up, so her small features and large doe-like eyes were appealing. Yet she was very modest about her look and didn’t see herself as anything special. Joe always said that she was fairylike in her appearance. Dainty, yet dazzling and certainly a feast for the eye.
Joe hadn’t asked how he looked. He always looked great anyway. Wearing blue jeans and a pale-blue checked shirt, his physique made any casual attire look amazing. The aura of confidence and substance which surrounded him, made him entrancing to many an admirer.
Knocking back the wine, Tiff went to the fridge and poured another one from the box dispenser. “Do you want another one before we go?”
Joe shook his head. “No – I’ll stick to the beer.” Grabbing his pack of twelve cans and the tray of lamb and spicy vegetable kebabs, he went into the lounge and set them by the front door. “You’ve got five minutes to calm your nerves babe. It’s ten to seven now. We shouldn’t be late.”
“Ready in five.” Tiff gulped down the second glass of wine as the effects of the first one began to warm her and ease her nerves. She couldn’t get drunk at their first meeting-of-the-neighbours so she’d have to be careful about what else she had for a while. At least for the next hour or so anyway. Two glasses of wine were enough for her. Enough to remove her inhibitions. Enough to make her more sociable and less shy. Any more than that and she would become silly. She did not want to do ‘silly’ tonight.
Nervously waiting at the front door of number eight, Tiff looked up at Joe and smiled. She’d be OK w
ith him there. He was good at talking to strangers. He had a way with people that she envied slightly. He found it easy to get on with anyone and everyone got on well with him. He made people laugh. He could always break the ice in any strained or unfamiliar atmosphere. People wanted to listen to what he had to say. There was just something about his personality that attracted people to him. Tiff liked it that way. It took the focus away from her and she could comfortably hide behind his loud, gregarious presence.
“Hello!” The front door flew open wide and Hayley stood in the doorway beaming. Wearing a summer print playsuit and purple flip-flops, her casual appearance was friendly and calming. “Come in. It’s so lovely to meet you both at last.” She tucked a strand of her mid-length brown hair behind her ear and stepped aside. “Joe,” she said, holding a hand out. “It’s good to meet you.” Shaking his hand, she ushered him through the door. “And Tiff, is that short for Tiffany?”
“Yes it is, I much prefer to be called Tiff though.”
Hayley smiled warmly. “Lovely name, do come in. So happy you could make it.” Placing an arm round Tiff’s shoulders, she smiled widely. “Do go on through.” She Closed the door behind them and pointed along the corridor. “Through there and straight out to the garden if you like.”
The smoky smell of chicken and sausages cooking on an open flame met Joe and Tiff as they reached the dining room. In front of them, patio doors led out to a large decked area, filled with potted plants, chairs, large beanbags and several people. Hayley’s husband, Wayne, was standing over on the far left of the garden, by the side of a large metallic barbecue talking to another man.
“Wayne – darling. Joe and Tiff from number four are here.”
Wayne looked up and smiled. “Hello,” he said, jovially. “Glad you could make it.”
Joe left Tiff’s side and approached Wayne. “I brought some kebabs along…”
“Great – pop them on the table and we’ll get them on in no time.”
“Now then, can I get you both a drink?” Hayley’s cheery disposition and smiley face were calming and welcoming.
“I’ll stick to these, thanks,” Joe replied, holding up his cans of beer.
“Tiff? Would you like some Pimms?” Hayley pointed inside to a huge glass bowl, in the centre of a long dining table, filled with plates and dishes of salad and various finger foods. A mountain of bread rolls towered precariously at the back of the table and a row of sauces and chutneys lined the front.
“Yes, please. That would be lovely,” said Tiff, politely as she followed Hayley back inside. “Looks like you have a few people coming round. The spread looks amazing.”
Hayley reached across the table and pulled a plastic tumbler from a stack. “Oh,” she said, shaking her head, “not that many really. Wayne always says I do too much and I should remember that I’m not feeding the whole town.”
Tiff nodded her head. “I think I’d be the same.”
“Good – then I’m not the only one.” Hayley dipped a ladle into the punch bowl. “Better to have too much than not enough, I reckon.”
“Absolutely.”
“Strawberries and cucumber?”
“Oh, yes please. Never thought of putting those in a Pimms before.” Watching closely as Hayley fished around to catch the strawberries and cucumber slices bobbing around the bowl, Tiff added, “It’s very kind of you to invite us here this evening.”
“You’re very welcome. It’s nice to get to know your neighbours, especially on such a small close.”
Tiff nodded agreeably before turning her head to see where Joe was.
As usual, Joe had already struck up a conversation with Wayne and the other man stood beside the barbecue. He was doing most of the talking while the other two men smiled and listened.
“I’ll introduce you to everyone in a minute,” said Hayley, passing over a tall plastic tumbler, filled to the top with strawberries, cucumber slices and Pimms. “Be careful with it,” she said, winking a pretty mascaraed eye. “I’ve put as much Vodka in it, as Pimms.
Tiff giggled softly. “Oh -OK. It’s strong then?”
“As always. If you’re going to have punch, make sure it gives you a punch, I say.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Tiff, really warming to her friendly neighbour.
“Right,” said Hayley, taking a sip from her own tumbler and plucking out a piece of cucumber, “let me introduce you to everyone. They’re not all here yet but we can do intros as we go. What do you think?”
“Great,” replied Tiff, nervously, as she gulped down a mouthful of her drink and ate a piece of fruit. “I’d love to.”
Ushering Tiff back out to the garden, Hayley began the introductions. “So…” she said, pointing to the first woman sitting by the patio doors, “this is Karen, my sister-in-law. She’s trouble – keep away from her.” Hayley giggled before leaning over and hugging the blonde woman’s head. “Only joking – I love her really. And that’s my brother John – over there.” Hayley pointed towards the men at the side of the barbecue. “And the other two are our husbands.” She giggled again.
“Ah, that tall one is not my husband – well not yet anyway.” Tiff took another gulp of her drink.
“Oh – not yet? So we’ll be having a wedding on the close?”
“No, we don’t have any plans at the moment.” Tiff whispered, as she felt herself cringing. People always thought they were a married couple and she wished they were too.
“We’ll work on that one,” said Hayley, grinning widely. “Anyway… over here are Tom and Jean. They live at number two, across the green.
The elderly couple smiled and both said ‘hello’ at the same time.
They had to be at least in their seventies, thought Tiff as she greeted them warmly. They appeared perfectly normal too. The odds were stacking against there being any more weirdos on the close.
“And over here…” said Hayley as she moved towards another elderly, smartly-dressed woman who looked fine and dignified, “is our one and only Lilly. Lilly Watson. She lives at number six, on the corner.” Hayley pulled up a chair next to her and sat down.
“Hello – nice to meet you,” said Tiff as the effects of her drink warmed her cheeks.
“In fact,” added Hayley, “our Lilly is your next-door-but-one neighbour, isn’t she?”
Sitting down on a large beanbag, on the other side of Lilly, Tiff nodded her head. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Hello dearie,” said Lilly in a high-pitched squeak. “Do you come here often?” Lilly gave a crinkly smile, displaying her perfectly aligned, unnaturally white teeth.
“No, it’s our first time,” replied Tiff. “We moved here about a month ago.”
“Ah, yes, of course you did,” she breathed. “Thought I hadn’t seen you before… but I do know who you are. I’m afraid I don’t get out much these days, myself,” Lilly paused thoughtfully, “and those blasted bushes have grown too high for me to see anything on the close. Are you all settled in now?”
“Lilly we said we’d trim them down for you,” Hayley jumped in. “Wayne can get hold of a hedge trimmer, no problem.”
“Nope – nope – nope – nope – nope. I tell you dearie.” Lilly pulled herself up in her chair. “I’ll deal with it myself.”
Hayley rolled her eyes and tutted to Tiff. “She’s as stubborn as a mule, is our Lilly.”
“A very proud lady I’d imagine and yes thank you, we’ve settled in nicely,” said Tiff, unsure of what to say really.
“Good. You say, ‘proud lady’? Yes, dearie – I’m proud. As for lady? Not sure I’ve been one of those since my seventies.” Lilly let out a short titter.
Tiff’s eyes widened. “Since your seventies?” she remarked.
“Go on,” whispered Hayley, into Lilly’s ear. “Tell her how old you are.”
“Ooh… now then… I think I must be 88 this year,” said Lilly in a hushed voice. “Or is it 89?”
“Lilly!“ Hayley tutted again. “It’s th
e big one this year – remember?”
Lilly grinned. “So it is dearie. Yes, it’s a big one… not as big as being 100 though.”
“Wow, that’s incredible,” breathed Tiff. “So you’ll be 90 this year?”
“Yes, that’s right dearie. Ninety.” Lilly cupped her hands together in her lap. “I don’t feel a day over twenty, I don’t mind telling you.”
“Very sprightly, our Lilly, you know.” Hayley placed an arm round Lilly’s shoulders. “A bit too sprightly sometimes – aren’t you Lilly?”
“You can never be too sprightly dearie. We can’t do ‘sprightly’ in our coffins so we should make the most of it while we’re upright.”
“True,” said Tiff, taking a small sip from her drink as she felt the alcohol warming her entire being. “You are very inspirational. It’s been such a pleasure to meet you.”
“Are you going somewhere?” squeaked Lilly.
“No.” Tiff stumbled.
“Then you should say it ‘is’ a pleasure to meet me. And not ‘it has been’ a pleasure to meet me, dearie.”
Tiff looked across at Hayley awkwardly. “Yes, of course. My apologies.”
“Apology accepted dearie… Now, do you think you could get me a packet of cheese and onion crisps? The hosts are terribly slow.”
Hayley stood up and winked at Tiff. “Terribly slow? You’re a cheeky one, Lilly Watson. You haven’t even asked for a packet of crisps yet. Come on Tiff, I’ll show you where they are. Oh… and Lilly?”
Lilly peered up expectantly.
“No popping them – OK?”
“I like to open them myself dearie. You know I do. I won’t touch them if they’re opened already.”
Puzzled by the last part of their conversation, Tiff gave a quizzical stare at Hayley and then followed her back indoors to the kitchen.
“She pops them. Every single time.”
“Pops them?” questioned Tiff, amused. “You mean the crisps?”
Hayley shook her head and sniggered. “No, the packet. She’s like a little excitable child at a tea party.”
“Oh, I see.” Tiff smiled and sipped at her drink more cautiously as a slight fuzziness began to enter her head.