The New Neighbours

by Costeloe Diney

  “Oliver! What are you doing there?” he demanded. “What do you want?”

  Oliver peered in through the window. “Just coming over to ask you if Pete’s about this weekend,” he said.

  “No,” Mike answered, and then feeling he’d been a bit abrupt he said, “No, I’m afraid not. I’m away this weekend, so the children won’t be coming. Maybe next weekend. OK?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Oliver loafed off down the cut beside the Smarts’ house, and Mike backed the car across to Charlie’s house. Though judging from Caroline’s phone call, I doubt if they’ll be here then either, he thought ruefully. Then he resolutely put that out of his mind. The important thing now was that Charlie needed him and he wasn’t about to let her down. He got out of the car and was just approaching the front door of the Madhouse, when it opened and Charlie appeared carrying a large sports bag. Pulling the door to behind her, she looked up at a lighted window in number four where Annabel Haven was looking out, and waved, before handing Mike her bag and climbing into his car. Annabel waved back, and gave the thumbs-up signal. No one else saw them leave. There was no one at home in the Madhouse, Charlie had simply left them a note, saying her sister was desperately ill and she’d gone home for a few days. She would phone sometime soon.

  The flight was on time and the hire car was waiting, so that they arrived at the hospital in Cork with the minimum of delay. All the way over on the short flight, Mike had sat holding Charlie’s hand, and she had let him, reassured by his nearness and his strength. When they reached the hospital Mike stopped at the main entrance and said, “You go straight in, I’ll park the car and then come and find you, OK?”

  “Yeah, OK.” Charlie got out of the car and headed in through the door. At reception, they told her where to find Kirsty, and within moments she was outside the intensive care unit where her parents were waiting. She ran into her mother’s arms, crying, “How is she? Mam, is she all right?” Her mother hugged her tightly and said quietly, “So far, pet. So far she’s holding her own.”

  Her father put his arms round both of them. “She’ll make it, she’s a game little thing.”

  “Can I see her? Can we go in?” Charlie peered in through the glass panel of the door to where a cot stood, and the tiny form of her daughter was hooked up to drips and monitors.

  “Not at the moment,” replied her mother. “We have to watch her from here.” Charlie stood with her nose pressed against the glass, trying to see Kirsty’s face, but it was hidden by the cot sides.

  “You got here very fast,” Sean Murphy said. “No trouble getting a flight? And you hired a car? Wasn’t that very expensive?”

  “No, I mean, there was no trouble with the flight… a friend has come with me… he lent me the money. Mam, Dad, I had no money for a fare, I couldn’t have come without him helping. He’s parking the car.”

  “But who is he, Charlie?” asked her mother anxiously. She didn’t like the sound of some man not only lending Charlie the money to come home, but of coming himself as well, and she liked it even less when Charlie turned to answer and said, “Here he comes now.” Kath Murphy looked over her daughter’s shoulder and saw a man approaching, not a young man, a student as she had imagined, but an older man, at least thirty-five. His slightly lopsided face had a certain raffish attractiveness and for a split second she wondered if he were the dreaded Duncan, Kirsty’s real father, but Charlie was saying, “Mam, Dad, this is Mike Callow, who lives in the Circle. Remember I told you I babysit for him sometimes? He’s brought me to see Kirsty. Mike, these are my parents.” They shook hands, but Mike was very aware of Mrs Murphy’s scrutiny, and could well understand it, even though he knew nothing of Duncan, or the fact that Kirsty’s father had been an older man as well.

  “It’s very good of you to bring Charlotte over,” Mrs Murphy said.

  Mike smiled at her. “I didn’t think she should come on her own,” he replied quietly. “She was very worried.” He glanced at the door to the little ward and asked, “How is Kirsty?”

  “Holding her own,” Sean told him. At that moment a doctor came up, and after a brief word with them allowed Charlie to go into the room. Her parents and Mike waited outside.

  “I don’t want to be a nuisance… or to be in the way,” Mike said diffidently. “Maybe I should wait in the car.”

  “Certainly not,” Sean said straightaway. “There’s a little waiting room just here where we can get a cup of coffee, we’ll wait for Charlie in there.”

  They adjourned to the waiting room where there was indeed a coffee machine, and having fed this with coins, they sat down with polystyrene cups of hot brown liquid to wait for news. Mike looked at the middle-aged couple who were Charlie’s parents. Mrs Murphy was small, much shorter than her daughter. She had the same coloured hair as Charlie, though fading to grey, and the same blue eyes, which missed nothing, and there was an air of strength about her, as if she took life’s troubles head on and dealt with them stoically. Sean Murphy was a big man, tall and dark-haired, with deep-set brown eyes, but at present he seemed content to stay in the background, sitting nursing his coffee, his eyes fixed in the middle distance somewhere.

  “You live in the same street as Charlotte?” Kath asked at last. Her use of the name Charlotte instead of the familiar Charlie, seemed to Mike to be trying to draw a line of some sort between them, to be making some sort of point. Clearly, she didn’t want him to be there, she didn’t approve of him.

  “Yes, just across the road.” Mike was determined to sound at ease. “Charlie babysits sometimes, and helps me with the children when they come to stay. Their mother and I are separated.”

  “I see.” Silence lapsed round them again until Sean said awkwardly,

  “It was good of you to lend Charlie the money to come.”

  “It was the least I could do,” Mike said. “She’s been a great help to me.” He looked across at the couple sitting side by side on an ageing sofa and came to a sudden decision. “I love your daughter,” he said simply, “and, if she’ll have me, I intend to marry her.”

  The Murphys looked stunned at this sudden announcement. “Aren’t you already married?” demanded Kath fiercely. “What are you doing to be talking about marrying our Charlie?”

  “My wife is divorcing me,” Mike replied levelly. “Nothing to do with Charlie, we’d split up before I even laid eyes on her.”

  “And does Charlie know?” Kath went on grimly. “Have you asked her to marry you… even before you’re free?”

  Mike refused to allow himself to be intimidated by Charlie’s mother. “No,” he said evenly, “for the first time this evening I told Charlie that I love her, it has gone no further than that… nor will it, yet. I just thought that you should know. I don’t know anything about her past, I only heard about Kirsty today, but it makes no difference. I love Charlie and I’ll love Kirsty too. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt either of them.”

  “That’s all very well and good…” began Kath, but her husband stopped her, placing his hand on hers. “This isn’t the time or the place to discuss this, Kath,” he said gently. “We’ll talk with Mr Callow about it another time.” He gave Mike a level look, which brooked no argument and Mike nodded. “Of course,” he replied, “I just wanted you to know how things stood.”

  An awkward silence fell for a few moments, and then Charlie came in. “She’s still holding her own,” she told them. “They say I can sit with her… you too if you want to, Mam, though only one at a time. So I’m going to stay. Daddy, will you take Mike home with you? He can sleep in my room for tonight. I won’t be coming home till the morning at least.” Kath was about to say something, but her husband forestalled her and said, “I will of course,” and he directed a smile at Mike. “Will you stay with Charlie, Kath, or come with us?”

  “I’ll come with you,” Kath decided, “and come back in the morning so that Charlie can get some sleep then.” She turned to Charlie. “I think that’s best, pet,” she said. “I can see the children off
to school and then come back to the hospital.” She put her arms round her daughter. “But of course ring us anytime if there’s any change and we’ll come back at once.”

  Charlie clung to her mother for a moment and then turned to the two men. “Thanks, Dad,” she said and then, “You’ll be OK, Mike? If you go home with Mam and Dad?”

  Mike smiled at her reassuringly. “Of course I will. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I’ll just have one more peep at Kirsty,” Kath told Sean, “and then I’ll see you in the car.”

  Taking this as their dismissal, the two men went out to the car park while Kath and Charlie returned to the ward. After a moment, gazing at the tiny form of her granddaughter, Kath turned away and left Charlie to keep vigil with Kirsty. As she went out to the car park where Sean and the strange man Charlie had brought with her were waiting, Kath’s cheeks were wet with tears. Her grief seemed double, she was Kirsty’s mother and grandmother all rolled into one, Kirsty was as dear to her as any of her own children, and at the same time she grieved for Charlie.

  DECEMBER

  Nineteen

  It was Madeleine Richmond’s birthday, a bright, shining Saturday at the beginning of December. The air was sharp, and the sun struck fire into the last of the leaves on the row of beech trees that lined one side of the university rugby ground. Autumn had finally given way to winter and there was a distinct chill in the air. Madeleine, standing on the touchline waiting for the Belchers to emerge on to the pitch for their last game of the term against Loughborough Colleges, swung her arms and blew on her fingers to keep warm. She knew she wouldn’t be able to feel her feet by the end of the match, but she was used to watching Dan play rugby in far colder weather than today, and she was looking forward to the game. It was always a hard fixture and Belcaster liked to have very loud vocal support from the touchline while they played. Students were drifting across the playing fields to the pitch, and Mad saw several of the regular supporters, including girlfriends of other members of the team. Then she saw Ben’s ex-girlfriend, Angie coming over and looked away, half-hoping Angie wouldn’t see her. Since the night when Ben and Angie’s relationship had ended, Mad hadn’t talked to Angie, but she knew very well that Angie resented her and the others Ben lived with, thinking that they all took his side.

  Even though there isn’t a side to take, thought Mad, ruefully. It just ended.

  She remembered all too well, the night not long after the beginning of term when Ben and Angie had broken up. Ben had come home from the Flying Dutchman quite late, and was last into the house. He had locked up and just come up to the kitchen, where he was chatting to Mad as he made a cup of tea, when there was a thunderous banging on the front door.

  “Christ! Who the hell’s that?” he exclaimed. He put down the kettle and went down to see. The knocking continued and before he could reach the front door, Mad heard Angie shouting at him through the letter box.

  “Ben! Ben! Are you in there, you bastard? Let me in. Can you hear me? Ben! Can you hear me?”

  “I imagine the whole Circle can hear you,” Ben told her as he opened the door. “What on earth’s the matter with you?”

  Angie pushed passed him violently and stormed straight along the passage towards his bedroom.

  “You know bloody well what’s the matter with me, you bastard!” she shrieked. “I won’t be dumped just like that, at least you owe me an explanation.” Her words were stumbling and slurred, and without seeing her, Mad could tell she’d been drinking.

  “Ange…” Ben spoke with weary patience, “we’ve been through all this, I’m sorry but…” His words were cut off by the closing of his bedroom door and though Mad could hear Angie’s voice still raised in anger, she couldn’t hear what was being said.

  Poor Angie, she thought, clearly they’ve had some sort of showdown this evening, and Angie is majorly upset. I’m not surprised, but surely she must have seen it coming. We all could. Ben’s been pretty offhand with her all this term. He must have found someone else.

  Madeleine made the tea and, pouring a mug for herself, she carried it through to the living room. She wondered if Ben did have a new girlfriend, and if so who it was. She hadn’t seen him with anyone, but that didn’t mean anything, their paths seldom crossed in college, though he certainly hadn’t produced a new woman at the Dutch. Perhaps there wasn’t anyone; after all, Ben had to work pretty hard to pay his way through uni, he had his job at the Dutch and he was doing some odd jobbing at the Hammonds as well. Perhaps he was just too busy. Perhaps he’d realised that there was no future with Angie and finally called it off.

  Mad sat nursing her mug of tea and wondering what to do. Should she go to bed, or should she wait up until Angie left, assuming of course that she did leave, that they didn’t kiss and make up. Would Ben want to be on his own or would he want someone to talk to? There was no music coming from Dean’s room, so he must be asleep already, and she knew Cirelle and Charlie were both upstairs, probably in bed too. There was only her. She was just deciding he probably wouldn’t want her and that she’d go to bed herself, when she heard the bedroom door downstairs slam open against the wall and angry footsteps head for the front door; only the door didn’t open, the footsteps came thudding up the stairs and Angie appeared in the living room. Her eyes were red from crying and her mouth was pinched and angry.

  Seeing Mad sitting there, she paused for a second and then said belligerently, “I’ve come to get my DVDs.” She crossed the room to where the DVDs lay in an untidy heap on the floor and went through them tossing aside those that didn’t interest her. It was clear she was still fighting back the tears, and even as she picked out her discs, muffled sobs escaped.

  “Angie,” Mad spoke gently, “are you all right? Will you be…?”

  “Of course I’m bloody all right,” Angie snapped, gathering up the pile she had collected. “He’s only a man for Christ’s sake!” She turned towards Mad, and her face crumpled again. “The sod!” she wailed. “He won’t even tell me why! He just says it’s no good, it’s over and he doesn’t want to see me anymore. He’s got someone else, hasn’t he? He must have. Who is it Mad? You must know. Which cow’s got her hooks into him?”

  “Angie, I don’t know. I promise you I don’t. I haven’t seen him with anyone, honestly.”

  “Is it that little tart Chantal, from over the road? She’s always hanging round these days. Perhaps it’s her.”

  Mad shook her head. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t think so. She’s very young you know, like, much younger than we thought at first? I don’t think Ben would be interested in her, really I don’t. She’s just a kid.”

  “Just a kid is she?” Angie sneered. “Well, it might pay you to watch your Dan around her, that’s all I can say. I suppose you’re used to him playing around, but you just watch him. He doesn’t treat her like a kid.”

  Mad looked at her standing there, clutching her DVDs, and fought back an angry reply. She said tightly, “Will you be OK getting home, Angie?”

  Angie looked suddenly deflated. “’Spect so,” she said dully. “I’ve got the car.”

  “Are you OK to drive?”

  Angie shrugged. “I dunno, ’spect so. If not, it’s his fault isn’t it?”

  Mad looked at her with mild irritation. It certainly wouldn’t be Ben’s fault if Angie were done for drink-driving, but there was no point in saying that now, so she said, “Do you want me to drive you home?”

  “No.” Angie stalked across to the stairs and then looked back at her, “No,” she said fiercely, “I don’t want anything to do with any of you, you’re all on his side, the whole bloody lot of you. Screw the lot of you!” She started down the stairs and as she did so, banged her arm on the banister and dropped the pile of DVDs. “Oh shit!” she bellowed. “Fucking, fucking shit!” She scrabbled on the stairs retrieving the discs and then dumped them into the carrier bag Mad silently handed her. She turned without a further word and stumped down to the front door, which she slamme
d behind her with a resounding crash. Mad went to the window and watched as she struggled with the car door and then clambered into the car, shoving the bag of DVDs onto the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her. She started the engine, and revving it to a roar, accelerated away with a squeal of tyres.

  Mad turned back from the window to find Ben standing in the kitchen doorway. “Sorry,” he said lamely. “Sorry you had to take all that.”

  Mad made a dismissive gesture and said, “Doesn’t matter, she was upset that’s all.” She looked across at Ben and smiled faintly. “I guess you aren’t going out any more!”

  Ben summoned up a rueful smile too. “I guess we aren’t,” he agreed. “I need a beer, do you want one?” he asked heading for the fridge to get one for himself, “Or more tea?”

  Mad didn’t want either, but guessing that Ben wanted to talk for a while, she nodded and accepted another mug of tea.

  “I guess I’m just tired of her,” he sighed as he dropped down on to the sofa. “But that’s not something you can say to someone, is it? I mean, just turn round and say you’re boring and I don’t want to be with you anymore.” He pulled the ring on his beer and gulped down half the can. “I’ve tried to cool it this past few weeks, Mad, but she didn’t seem to get the message. And now she’s screaming at me that I’ve dumped her for no reason.”

  “She thinks you’ve got someone else lined up,” Mad said, and after an infinitesimal pause added, “She thought it might be Chantal Haven.”

  “Chantal!” Ben looked thunderstruck, “She’s only a kid!”

  “I know,” Mad agreed, deciding not to mention the accusations she’d made about Chantal and Dan, “That’s what I told her, but Angie seems to think I’m covering up for you.”

  “Well, she’s wrong. There isn’t anyone else.” Ben took another swig of his beer. “No one.” But he didn’t look at Mad as he said it.