Calling All Neighbours (Calling All... Book 4)

by Tara Ford

  Joe peered at her, astonished.

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t be any good at quizzes,” remarked Hayley. “Well done you.”

  Tiff grinned and her cheeks flushed pink. “I only know that one because my mum and dad used to watch it all of the time.”

  “That should have been an easy one for the more mature of you. OK. Number two…” said the man. “What is the square root of 729?”

  The crowd groaned and mumbled.

  Hayley leant back in her chair and locked her fingers together on the top of her head. “Not a clue,” she mumbled before rolling her eyes.

  Wayne shook his head and looked directly at Joe.

  Joe shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know mate – useless at maths. Tiff might…”

  Leaning right into the table, Tiff whispered, “Twenty-seven.”

  Wayne peered at her incredulously. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, write it down.”

  “Apologies ladies and gents – this is a tough one. I can promise you that neither Peggy or myself know anything about these questions before they arrive.”

  Peggy was seated behind a table on the stage and nodded her head agreeably.

  “Moving on to question three then… In which films does John Hurt play the following roles? And you’ll get one point for each correct answer. The roles are, A – Kane. B – John Merrick. C – Winston Smith. D – The Marquis of Montrose. E – Quentin Crisp and finally, F – Mr Ollivander.”

  A sea of whisperings washed around the room as people locked their heads together, across the tables, and began filling in their answer sheets passionately.

  “Can you repeat the roles, Charlie?” One man shouted across the room.

  “A – Kane. B – John Merrick. C – Winston Smith. D – The Marquis of Montrose. E – Quentin Crisp and finally, F – Mr Ollivander.”

  “That one is 1984,” said Tiff pointing to the space for C. “From the book by, George Orwell.”

  “Clever girl, Tiff,” said Hayley, grinning. “Never heard of it but I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I’ve read all of George Orwell’s books. Again, my dad loves them. I read them when I was a teenager.”

  “Knows more than she lets on,” said Joe, winking an eye at Tiff.

  “We’re three questions in and Tiff has answered all of them.” Wayne laughed and shook his head, amusedly.

  Tiff smiled and poured some wine into one of the beakers. “Looks like it’s going to be a good night,” she replied, unconvincingly.

  Tiff’s luck had run out after question three. But the silly answers the group were prepared to settle for, and bravely write down on their sheet, certainly gave them all a good giggle as the wine and beer gave way to addled, un-quiz-worthy minds.

  “Thank you ladies and gentleman,” said the man who Tiff now knew as, Charlie. “We will stop for refreshments and a recharge of that grey-matter. Part two will commence in 45 minutes.” Charlie placed the microphone on the table and exited the stage, along with Peggy, via the back curtains.

  The whirring sound of the shutters opening made Tiff look over at the hatch. And there she was, looking radiantly beautiful (even if she was a little greasy) in a black and white, stripy blouse as she stood behind the counter. Georgie – the hot dog lady.

  “Ah, food,” said Wayne, patting Joe on the back as he passed him.

  Joe looked across to the serving hatch and then back to Tiff. “Are you coming over to get some food babe? I’m starving.”

  “In a minute. You go over with Wayne. I’ll wait for Hayley.”

  Hayley had darted off to the toilets as soon as the last question was read out. She had drunk far more wine than Tiff had and already, she sounded tipsy and giggly.

  The queue at the serving hatch was lengthening at quite a pace when Hayley returned from the toilets with an alcohol-induced flush on her cheeks.

  “They’re over there already,” said Tiff, pointing to the hatch.

  “Blimey, look at the queue.” Hayley pulled her chair out and sat down. “Shall we wait until it goes down a bit?”

  “Yes, I don’t mind.”

  “Well, knowing my Wayne, he definitely won’t think to get anything for me and I don’t want to stand in the queue for the next 20 minutes.”

  “They’re all the same,” Tiff giggled. “Think of themselves and their bellies first.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Is this Georgie’s job then?” Tiff averted her eyes towards the hatch momentarily before fixing her gaze on Hayley.

  “She helps out a lot here. Voluntarily. She claims benefits, so she can’t work properly.”

  “Why can’t she get a paid job? I mean, anywhere, not just here.”

  “She’s on the sick – but please don’t say that I told you.” Hayley glanced across at the hatch.

  “Oh, really?”

  Hayley lowered her voice although the din in the room was rowdy. “Depression.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said, she’s suffering from depression.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that.” Tiff feigned compassion. “There’s a lot more to Georgie than meets the eye.”

  “No, I think what you see is what you get actually.”

  “Oh, OK.” Tiff paused and sipped at her drink. “I haven’t seen or heard her daughter lately.”

  “Staying with her dad a lot more.”

  “What do you mean?” Tiff asked, curiously.

  “Georgie doesn’t have custody of Sophie, does she. Don’t think things have gone too well on the visits just lately.” Hayley peered over at the hatch as if she was worried she might be overheard.

  “Ah, OK. Awkward. Sorry, I shouldn’t be so nosey.”

  “It’s OK,” said Hayley, “just don’t repeat anything.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Wayne doesn’t even know everything about her. He’s far too judgemental and especially when it comes to kids.”

  “Would I be classed as super-nosey if asked why Georgie doesn’t see her daughter so much now?”

  Hayley laughed and drained another beaker of wine. “Yes you would… so as long as you’re prepared to have the title of ‘super-nosey-Tiff’ I don’t mind telling you.”

  Tiff giggled and took a long sip of her wine, trying to finish the beaker full and catch up to Hayley. She didn’t know why but she wanted to be drunk tonight. It seemed that everything would feel easier that way.

  Hayley leant across the table and mouthed, “She can’t cope. She’s been depressed from the start or should I say end, of her marriage. She’s got much worse just lately.”

  “So the visits, have they stopped? I’ve seen her with Sophie on some Friday nights. Collecting her from school?”

  “Yes, they did have pre-arranged sleep-overs now and again. Usually at the weekends as Georgie’s ex-husband works a lot over the weekends. He’s in the hotel industry. But there’s been a break just lately. I think Georgie is seriously going downhill again.”

  “Oh dear,” said Tiff, “that explains why I haven’t seen or heard her daughter much lately. Downhill again?”

  Hayley nodded her head. “I thought I’d told you about her set-up before?”

  “You probably did but I’m half-piddled now.” Tiff giggled, hoping that she might be able to find out a little more about her strange neighbour. She didn’t want to sound like she was too interested in Georgie’s life story but she was sure she hadn’t heard of the woman’s downhill depression before.

  Hayley joined her and laughed. “Just keep it to yourself – please.”

  “Yes, of course I will,” Tiff replied expectantly.

  “Come on, let’s get some food, I don’t want to spend the evening talking about depressing things.”

  “Oh, OK,” said Tiff, resignedly. That was it, it seemed. Hayley was hungry so there’d be no more poking and prying into Georgie’s life. She was off the agenda, unfortunately for Tiff.

  Joe and Wayne had reached t
he front of the queue. Leaning over the counter, the two men appeared to be chatting and laughing with Georgie and another woman, who was helping to serve. As Tiff and Hayley left their table to join the end of the queue, Tiff watched as Georgie clearly placed a hand on top of Joe’s and then laughed. He stood up quickly and turned his head towards the group’s table which was now empty. Then he turned back to Georgie and appeared to be talking to her again. At the back of the queue, Tiff’s view was obscured by the two-deep row of chattering quiz contenders in front of her. How long would it take for Joe to return to their table? How long was he going to talk to her? Tiff’s eyes darted from the hatch to the table and back again. It was happening again. A queasiness rose slowly from her stomach and stuck in her throat. Jealousy. Undeniable insecurity. Every second counted and the sooner that he returned to the table with Wayne, the better it had to be.

  Shuffling along the line, Hayley chatted to the people standing in front of them and now, behind them as well. Tiff grinned, politely, at any pauses in Hayley’s incessant chatter and tried to make it look like she was joining in. However, that couldn’t have been any further from the truth. She was frantically awaiting the appearance of Joe or Wayne at their table. But Wayne on his own would have been even more worrying. Suddenly, she realised that they were shuffling along the line. How could that be, if Wayne and Joe were still being served at the counter? Because they definitely weren’t back at their table. Where could the queue be moving to then? Tiff tapped Hayley on the shoulder and whispered in her ear. “I’m going to the loo – back in a minute.”

  Hayley nodded and smiled.

  Still there. Still talking and undoubtedly flirting, in between eating. Joe and Wayne were now standing by the side of the hatch chatting to Georgie and the other woman while they continued to serve the slowly decreasing queue. That was why the queue was moving. The men had stepped out of the way to let others be served but they remained in full-on conversation and hilarity with her and the other woman.

  Tiff marched to the ladies’ room with a mixture of fury and sickening worry filling her whole being. What the hell did Joe think he was doing? It was starting to look more than plainly obvious that he was drawn to her, every time he saw her. Tiff had to stop this somehow. There was no way she was going to give up her man easily. Especially now that they had bought their first home together. Her head was in a turmoil of disturbing thoughts as she sat on the toilet seat, fully clothed. Joe Frey is mine… you’ll have to kill me first, Georgie-effing-ford, before you’ll ever get your grubby little claws into him. Dirty little bitch.

  Chapter 21

  “Where have you been?” Hayley pulled Tiff back into the line and put an arm round her shoulders.

  “Sorry, there was a long queue in the toilets.”

  “We all thought you’d gone home.” Hayley giggled. “Only joking – but I think Joe was getting a bit worried, bless him.”

  Tiff peered around to see Joe and Wayne sitting at their table, stuffing their faces with hot dogs and burgers. She watched as Joe took a bite from his hot dog, scanned the room briefly, like he was searching for something, or someone and then washed his mouthful down with a long, drawn-out swig from his beaker of beer. He looked decidedly drunk by the way he was making heavy-handed gestures.

  “Tiff?”

  Startled, Tiff turned back to see that they had reached the front of the queue.

  Georgie grinned. “Hi Tiff, what would you like? Burger, cheeseburger or a hot dog?”

  “Err…” Tiff pretended to be thinking when actually, she was a little flummoxed by Georgie’s apparent politeness. “I’ll have a hot dog please.”

  “Onions?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Georgie’s long, blonde hair had been tied up at the back in a messy bun. Ringlets hung down both sides of her pretty face. Her eyes were round and dark with mascara and eyeliner which had been perfectly applied. Bitch!

  Tiff peered closer, just inside the collar of her blouse. “Oh – are you OK, Georgie?” Leaning into the hatch, she beckoned to Georgie to move closer.

  “Pardon?”

  “Looks like you’ve got a rash on your neck. Are you feeling OK?”

  Georgie pulled back, wiped her hands on a paper towel and placed one hand inside the collar of her blouse. Then she tugged at the collar, in an attempt to pull it further around her neck “Yes – I’m fine. I… I don’t know what that is…it… well, I don’t know. It keeps popping up.”

  “I’d get it looked at, if I were you. See your doctor.”

  Without moving her head, Tiff swivelled her eyes sideways to check that Hayley wasn’t listening. She wasn’t. Hayley was talking incessantly with the other woman, like they’d known each other for years. A young man behind her, had also joined in their jesting banter.

  “Yes, maybe I will. Anyway… here’s your hot dog. The sauces are over there, on the table.” Georgie pointed a finger behind Tiff. “Enjoy the evening” She shot a cursory grin at Tiff and then turned to the next person in the queue. “Yes – what would you like, Joyce?”

  “Where’ve you been my b-a-a-a-by?” Joe’s voice slurred.

  Tiff pulled a chair out and sat down. “Toilet – why?” she replied, sharply.

  Joe brushed a tendril of hair from the side of her face and stroked her neck. “I missed you.”

  “Did you?” she sneered in a hushed voice. “Thought you were too busy chatting at the counter.”

  Joe pulled his head back and frowned. “Babe, I was being polite. I could hardly leave Wayne at the counter and completely ignore Georgie,” he whispered.

  Wayne looked up and smiled, his cheeks stuffed with food.

  Tiff reciprocated with a cringe-worthy grin, desperately hoping that he hadn’t heard any of their conversation over the hubbub of laughter and talking all around.

  Wayne turned away, unaware, and watched as Hayley came wobbling over to the table with a plate filled with two hot dogs and two burgers.

  “Got some extras, in case you boys are still hungry.”

  Both Joe and Wayne stared at the plate with wide eyes. “You first,” said Wayne, holding a hand out and gesturing to the plate.

  Joe grabbed another hot dog and dropped it on to his plate. “Thanks,” he said, eyeing Hayley and then Wayne. “I’m bloody starving.”

  Peering down at her own hot dog, Tiff pushed it around the plate, picked a piece of bread from the roll and popped it in her mouth. She didn’t want it, although she was quite hungry. Georgie had put it together and piled onions on the top. She despised Georgie. She despised Georgie’s hot dog. Of course, it might have been poisoned anyway because, didn’t Georgie despise her too? “Do you want mine?” Tiff asked, looking at Joe disdainfully. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Babe, you’ve had nothing to eat,” Joe mumbled, between chewing his mouthful.

  Tiff shrugged nonchalantly. “Not hungry anymore.”

  Pouring another beaker of wine, full to the very top, Tiff sipped at her drink while she watched the others heartily munch their way through the food.

  “Ten minutes, ladies and gents,” came Charlie’s voice, through the microphone. “Feed that grey-matter but prepare to be discombobulated.”

  The sounds from the crowd rose.

  “A little teaser while you finish eating, ladies and gentlemen. What does it mean? Discombobulated.”

  “Sounds to me a bit like someone called Bob has been decapitated,” said Hayley, indifferently.

  Wayne peered at his wife and smirked.

  “Think it means, confused, or something like that.” Tiff smiled weakly. A bit like I feel now, she thought to herself.

  Joe was so wrapped up in his hot dogs that he remained silent and didn’t even offer any appreciation of Tiff’s knowledgeable contribution.

  He tried once. Then twice. Then again, he reached out for her hand. Tiff snatched it away as they staggered along the road, behind Hayley and Wayne. Their team had come twelfth out of twenty-two. Hayley and
Wayne had been delighted and exclaimed that they had, never before, achieved such a high score. They had all, including Joe, put their success down to Tiff’s efforts. Tiff, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less as she blundered through the rest of the evening in a bleary-eyed state. Drunk. As pissed as she could possibly get on one and a half bottles of wine. Deliberately drunk. Unlike Joe, who had been sloshed earlier, but was now sobering up.

  Joe peered down at her and screwed his face into a questioning frown. “Babe, hold my hand.”

  “No,” she grumped. “I just want to get home.”

  “I’ll pull you along – come on.” Once more, he extended a hand towards hers.

  She shunned his offer and continued to sway from one side to the other as she navigated her way along the footpath. “I’ll be just fine, walking on my own, thank you.”

  “Thanks for coming, we’ll have to do that again sometime,” Hayley chirped in a high-pitched, giggly tone. “Tiff – you’re the best. Next time we’ll smash it.”

  Tiff smiled and rolled her eyes. “I was just lucky. I’m really not that intelligent. But thank you, both of you.”

  Joe sneaked up behind her and wrapped his arms round her waist. “Yes you are intelligent and beautiful to go with it,” he breathed into her ear, before kissing it.

  Shrugging him off, Tiff gave Hayley a sheepish grin. “Thanks for inviting us. I’m sure we’ll do it again.”

  Hayley nodded her head, “See you again soon then.”

  “Golf next Saturday. Cheers mate,” said Wayne, taking hold of Joe’s hand and shaking it.

  Joe nodded and patted his new-found friend on the back. “Thanks mate. Good night.”

  “Bye,” Hayley called from her front door. “See you soon.”

  “Bye,” said Tiff as they wandered away down the path around Sycamore Close.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Joe enquired as they both undressed in the bedroom.

  “Nothing.”

  “Yes there is babe. You’ve been off with me all night.”