The Good Neighbour

by Beth Miller

  ‘Was it very heavy?’ Minette asked, sitting next to him.

  ‘Weighed a ton, yeah, but that bloke Liam was there as well.’

  ‘He was?’ Shit, what was Cath playing at?

  ‘Yeah. He asked after you.’

  ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘The way he said it. All concerned. Think he fancies you.’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ She took a big gulp of wine.

  ‘Thought you’d be flattered, good-looking lad like that.’

  ‘Mmm. Anyway, is Davey’s room all finished?’

  ‘Yeah, we shifted all the furniture. I’m stronger than that friend of yours, even if he’s taller. He kept having to stop for a rest.’

  Minette felt embarrassed for Abe, and hoped he hadn’t made a show of himself in front of Liam. ‘Well, thanks for doing it, hon. I was thinking of making salmon en croute for your parents, do you think they’ll like it?’

  ‘Course they will. Aren’t we cute little stereotypes?’ Abe said. ‘You doing the cooking, me doing the macho lifting.’

  Now, as she placed the pastry carefully over the salmon, Minette worried about just how much she’d revealed to Cath. What had possessed Cath to get Liam round at the same time as Abe? Was she trustworthy? She was friendly with Josie, after all. What if she … Slow down, Minette told herself. Probably Liam was simply the only other neighbour who was available at the time. Even if, worst case scenario, Cath did tell, which Minette couldn’t picture her doing, Minette could say truthfully that it was just the once. A stupid indiscretion, a one-time crazy moment that would never be repeated. Abe was not a black-and-white sort of person. Though he would be terribly hurt, and disappointed in her, he understood that people made mistakes. That’s why he was so good at his job. A lot of the people he advised had made dreadful mistakes, but he never judged them.

  The doorbell rang – Julie and Roy were always punctual – and Minette put on her hostess smile. She was quickly enveloped in Julie’s warm embrace. Roy kissed her and then commandeered Tilly, carrying her into the kitchen and making her laugh by pretending to steal her nose. Soon they were having lunch, glasses of wine in front of them. Tilly sat up proudly at the table, with her own portion of flaked salmon, beaming at her grandparents, who beamed delightedly back. Minette looked round at all the beloved faces and thought, OK, I can do this. I can have this as my whole life and it will be fine. I don’t need anything else. She pushed away an image of Liam kissing her, and drank down half her wine.

  ‘This is sensational,’ Julie said. ‘You’re better than Nigella.’

  ‘And even more glamorous,’ Roy said, raising his glass to her.

  Minette smiled at them. ‘It’s a very simple recipe.’

  ‘You’re too modest. Isn’t she Abe?’ Julie said.

  ‘She is, and that’s why I love her,’ Abe said.

  Minette was astonished to feel a tear trickle down her face. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, and ran out, aware that everyone was looking at her with concern. She locked herself in the bathroom, took some deep breaths, and washed her face. There hasn’t been a single day, she said to herself, not a single day in which she felt normal since Tilly was born. It wasn’t Tilly’s fault, not even a tiny bit, but since having her Minette’s life had gone off-kilter.

  She paused in the hall outside the kitchen, not exactly listening but sort of listening.

  ‘Those awful bloody people, excuse my language, Tilly,’ Roy said.

  ‘They’ve been gone nearly two months, though,’ Abe said.

  ‘It takes a long time to get over something like that,’ Roy said firmly. ‘I think Minette has been traumatised by their behaviour.’

  The Miltons.

  ‘She does look rather drawn and anxious. Is everything all right, Abe?’ Julie said. ‘Between you?’

  ‘Well …’ Abe said. Oh Jesus. Minette was torn between barging in to prevent Abe from speaking, and wanting to know what he would say. Might he tell them he suspected her of having an affair? Or that they hadn’t had sex for nearly a year? No, no one in the history of the world would ever tell their parents that.

  Abe said, ‘Far as I know, everything is completely fine.’ Minette let out her breath. ‘She’s decided not to go back to work, which I support as she says it’s the right thing for her and Tilly. And also,’ Abe went on, ‘she’s started training for a triathlon.’ Minette was astonished to hear the pride in his voice; so far his only comments had been sarky ones about Ladies Who Run in their Lovely Lycra. And earlier that week, when she’d gone for a morning run, he’d complained that she would make him late for work, and they’d argued in the front garden like people off EastEnders.

  She crept back up the stairs and did an elaborate play of stomping down them loudly. When she went in, Abe was telling Roy, slightly stiltedly, about a viniculture evening course he was going to take.

  ‘You all right, love?’ Julie asked her quietly, as Minette slipped back into her seat.

  ‘Yes thanks. I was just thinking about how lovely things are with the new neighbours, compared to the Miltons, and I felt a bit upset for a silly moment.’ Minette was pleased with the way she’d managed to use this explanation.

  ‘Yes, I thought it might be that,’ Julie said, relieved.

  Minette busied herself with her food, now cold.

  ‘This triathlon sounds like a terrific thing to do,’ Julie went on. ‘Can we sponsor you?’

  Julie and Roy each pledged £250, and Minette’s eyes filled up again.

  Roy, discreetly changing the subject away from Minette, said to Abe, ‘I see you’ve displayed my picture.’ He pointed to the noticeboard, to the lovely photo of Tilly he’d taken last time they visited.

  ‘You’re going to need a bigger board,’ Julie said, ‘Tilly’s not a year yet and it’s almost full.’

  ‘We’re putting some of Dad’s best ones into frames, we just haven’t got round to it yet,’ Abe said.

  Minette remembered she still hadn’t cleaned the frames, which she’d stacked in the under-stairs cupboard. She avoided Abe’s eye.

  ‘Where’s that photo of you two I’ve always loved, from when you went to France to see your mother, Minette?’

  ‘The one where I’m wearing the green dress? It’s still there somewhere, probably covered over.’

  ‘It’s important to have some markers of the time before you were parents!’ Julie said, with a meaningful glance at Abe. She went over to the board and tried to find it. ‘No, it’s not here.’

  ‘I didn’t take it down. Abe, did you?’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said vaguely, trying to put one last spoonful of salmon into Tilly’s mouth. ‘I’ll look later.’

  In the afternoon Abe and his parents took Tilly to the park, while Minette went for a run. She had a good look at Liam’s house as she jogged past but there was no sign of anyone. She remembered how much she used to like running. There was nothing like it for clearing the head, and after five minutes she wasn’t thinking about anything except her breathing, and her stride.

  After a quick shower she joined Abe and his parents for tea and more food. Once they’d gone home, with many hugs, and Tilly was in her cot, Minette and Abe crashed out in front of the TV.

  ‘Think your parents had a good time?’

  Abe was flicking through the channels. ‘Course. They love seeing us. Could do without any more of Dad’s bloody photos though. He took another few million today. I must get those frames sorted.’

  ‘I’ve nearly finished cleaning them, all right? No need to go on.’ She knew she was being touchy but she couldn’t stop herself.

  ‘I wasn’t, Dougie. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything,’ Abe said. He stopped at a war documentary. ‘This?’

  ‘Can we find something light?’

  Abe continued surfing. ‘Are you OK? It was a bit weird when you started crying.’

  ‘Did they think it was weird?’

  ‘No, they just assumed you were having post-traumatic stress.’

 
‘Maybe I am.’

  ‘Maybe so.’ Abe looked at her thoughtfully. ‘What about this? Him and Her.’

  ‘I’m not in the mood to watch other people in their pants.’ Minette took the remote from him and turned off the sound. ‘Why don’t we …’ she snuggled into him with an unmistakeable invitation on her face.

  ‘Bit knackered, sorry love,’ he said, and moved a tiny distance away, unmeasurable by tape measure, yet actually an enormous gulf. He clicked the sound back on, and watched the telly couple snogging. Minette sat up, and stared at the screen. Do you find me ugly? Do I smell? Why don’t you want to? There are other people who do, you know. She said, ‘We haven’t done anything for ages.’

  ‘It’s not been that long.’

  ‘Yes it has, Abe. It’s been …’ she couldn’t bring herself to say the actual amount of time, it seemed so shocking. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  ‘Come here.’ He kissed her forehead and pulled her close, but the gulf was still there. ‘It’s just been a bit of a weird time. New baby and everything. Things will settle down soon.’

  They sat together, his arm round her shoulder, watching people on telly who were having more fun. For the first time, Minette thought about their sex life not in terms of its recent absence, but about what it had been like long ago, before Tilly. After an exciting couple of months when they started dating, it had gone a bit quiet. There were periods when nothing much happened for several weeks, and other times when – and Minette sat up straighter, realising – she had always been the one to make the first move.

  ‘You uncomfy, Dougie?’

  ‘Just check on Tills. Back in a sec.’

  Tilly was fast asleep, breathing warmly in her cot. Minette went into her own room, grabbed the iPad, sat up in bed, and googled ‘animus’. Quite a lot of the sites were confusing, full of psychobabble that her tired brain couldn’t follow. But then she found a less formal site, written by a psychology student:

  Love at first sight was explained brilliantly by Carl Jung’s animus and anima. We’re talking basically a force of nature here, guys, so don’t try and resist. You see your ‘other half’, your female or male self, you are so not going to be able to help yourself. You just fall, and worry about landing some other time.

  Liam was much better looking than Paul. Well, he was much better looking than everyone. But there was something of Paul about him. They both had the same certainty and confidence, which came, she supposed, from knowing how irresistible people found them. They both had a similar way of seeming to see right through her. And when they touched her, it had the same electrifying effect. Minette hadn’t looked Paul up for a long time, but now she searched for his Facebook profile. There were a lot of Paul Munroes, but only one with his face. He looked exactly the same. Cocky, tanned, and smiling that let’s-fuck smile. How hard she had worked – unsuccessfully – to make sure that he only turned that smile on for her. ‘Status: in a relationship with Lindsey Unwin.’ She was new. Last time Minette had looked it had been some other name. She clicked on Lindsey, saw a tall slim woman in a tiny black dress, a model type, and turned off the iPad.

  She’d only spoken to Paul once after they split. She and Abe had been going out for a couple of months, and she’d bumped into Paul in a pub. Abe was at the bar, and the girl Paul was with – not Bella, Minette’s ex-friend – was in the loo. In the few moments that Minette and Paul were alone, he managed, once again, to totally disturb her equilibrium. ‘Ah, so you’re seeing Mr Interesting Moncrieff,’ he said, glancing over at Abe. ‘Punching a bit above his weight, isn’t he?’

  Paul’s stunning new girlfriend appeared at his side and they disappeared in, it seemed to Minette looking back, a flash of sparkling light. Then Abe came over with the drinks, and normal reality resumed.

  In the bathroom she took out her lenses, and stared at her blurry reflection: pink oval, halo of black, dark smudges for eyes and mouth. In her head, she listed the possible explanations for Abe’s lack of interest:

  He was gay.

  He was asexual.

  He was having sex with someone else.

  She was physically repulsive.

  He just wasn’t as into it as her.

  She quickly rejected the first four. Abe had never shown the slightest interest in men; he did like sex when they did it; he didn’t really have much opportunity to be with anyone else; she knew she was quite attractive. Liam clearly thought so. The possibility that jangled her nerves, the one that contained an element of truth, was the last one. Minette had read enough problem pages to be familiar with the concept of sexual incompatibility. One of you wanted it all the time, one of you never wanted it. She and Abe clearly had a mild form, in which she wanted it sometimes, and he wanted it only occasionally. Her vision became blurred by more than just her poor eyesight. It was painful to realise how many times Abe had rejected her; how many times she’d made the first move and been so cleverly rebuffed so that only now did she realise that that’s what it was.

  I’m a reject, she thought, and there was Liam’s handsome face in her head, as clearly as if he was in the room.

  Not to me, you’re not, he said, and she picked up her phone, and quickly typed, ‘When you free this week?’ pressing send before she could think too much about it.

  Chapter 15

  Cath

  ‘HOW’S THE TRAINING going?’

  ‘OK, Gee, apart from the damn cycling. Wish someone could do that bit for me.’

  ‘Ah, would if I could. That’s a lie, I wouldn’t. You’re bloody mad. You sound knackered. Sleeping still shit?’

  ‘Not brilliant. But I’m done in cos I’ve just been for a run with that skinny minny next door. She’s faster than me.’

  ‘Everyone’s faster than you, babe. Sponsor money pouring in?’

  ‘Pretty good, three-and-a-half grand. Minette’s already got a few hundred and she’s hardly started. Then there’s the school quiz tonight.’

  ‘Good luck with that. Listen, Rubes, reason I rang, Ry and me are going away for a few days.’

  ‘Finally pinned him down to a mini-break, didya?’

  ‘Got five nights for the price of three, spa hotel in Yorkshire.’

  ‘Yorkshire? Hope it’s not in sodding Troubletown.’

  ‘No, it’s, uh, in Sheffield.’

  ‘Sheffield? Oh, that’s well romantic, that is. He gets to go to the football, tarts it up as a holiday …’

  ‘The match is only a couple of hours,’ Gina snapped. ‘And there’s brilliant shopping in Sheffield.’

  ‘All right lovie, I’m only teasing,’ Cath said.

  ‘Anyway, I won’t be here for a few days next week, from Thursday. I’ll have the mobile though.’

  ‘Heard anything from you-know-who lately?’

  ‘No more emails. The cheques have come in fine, though. He still always puts in a note for you, do you still not want them?’

  ‘Like I said. Bin them.’

  ‘Seems a bit …’

  ‘You’re not hanging onto them, are you?’

  ‘Course not.’

  Hmm. ‘OK. Better go, Gee, got some people coming round. Have a dreamy time in Sheffield, won’t you? Hotel next to the football ground, is it?’

  ‘You’re just jealous. See ya.’

  Cath hung up, and grinned. Poor old Gina. Talk about being taken for a ride. She knew who’d be paying for the football trip, and it weren’t going to be Toyboy Ryan. Cath went upstairs to Davey’s old room, which was now the spare room, and made up the new guest bed with crisp white sheets. She put two neatly folded towels on top, checked everything else was in place, and went downstairs. The post was lying on the mat: bills, takeaway menus and charity envelopes with no address on, their shape revealing a giveaway pen inside. Like a cheap biro would make people want to donate. Andy used to say she should work for a charity, she’d probably double their funding. Ah, there it was, at the bottom of the pile: an envelope franked with the local NHS trust’s logo. At last! She ripp
ed it open and scanned it hurriedly. Excellent – Davey’s referral, and soon, too: only two weeks away. Good old Dr Ogueh.

  ‘Please allow up to three hours for the appointment.’ For Pete’s sake! Bit over-thorough. ‘You will be seen by members of the multidisciplinary team including a consultant in rehabilitation medicine, physiotherapist and occupational therapist.’ Cath ticked them off on her fingers. OK, she could handle all that. She just needed to be prepared.

  She filed the letter in her ‘Davey hospital’ folder, and just then the doorbell rang. She let Minette in, who was babbling in her stressy way as she stepped into the hall.

  ‘Are you sure this is OK? It’s so nice of you. I feel awful. But it is really kind of you. Oh god, are we sure about this?’

  ‘Hey, Tills,’ Cath said, taking the baby from her agitated mum. ‘She looks tired. Hopefully she’ll sleep all right here.’

  ‘Yes, she hasn’t had her nap yet. God, oh god. He not here yet? I don’t know what’s worse, him coming, or him not coming.’

  Cath considered whether Minette was in the mood for a joke about hopefully them both coming, and decided not. Instead she said, ‘Shall I show you where everything is? Then I can clear out before he gets here.’

  ‘Oh no, please wait with me, Cath, I’d feel even weirder on my own. I’ve never done anything like this before.’

  Yes you have, thought Cath. You just haven’t been so, what’s the word, premeditated. ‘Well, it sounded like you couldn’t carry on meeting in either of your houses.’

  ‘Talk about unlucky! It must be some kind of bad karma.’

  ‘I don’t believe in karma.’

  ‘I don’t either, not really. But one time only at mine, and Abe walks in. Then one time at Liam’s, and Tilly almost falls down the stairs.’

  ‘Horrible.’ Cath had heard all this already, how the mood had been ruined, how upset they’d both been, but nodded and tutted again and said her line: ‘Well, they’re all open plan in there, aren’t they?’

  ‘They’ll have to sort that out if they’re going to have children. I said to him, how are you going to put stair gates on open stairs with no bannister? How are you going to watch telly when the baby’s sleeping? There’s no doors between one room and the next.’