The Good Neighbour

by Beth Miller

  They faced off in the hall.

  ‘Hang on! How long will you be?’ he asked, his coat half off.

  ‘Forty minutes, tops.’

  ‘I thought we’d have lunch together,’ he said, all wounded. She’d never before suggested he take over with Tilly at lunchtime, and she smiled as she put on her bike helmet. ‘I’ll have mine when I get back,’ she said, shutting the door decisively.

  Minette couldn’t understand why she’d put up such resistance to cycling. The minute she got on the bike and started pedalling she felt incredible. She didn’t think about Ros’s broken wrist, she thought instead about the kilometres she was racking up, the wind on her face, the freedom of getting far away from home under her own steam. She was in Brighton before she knew it, and only turned back, reluctantly, when she saw the Palace Pier, lit up like a Christmas tree though it was the middle of the day.

  Abe was fuming when she got home.

  ‘I’ve got to go back to work now,’ he said, holding Tilly to his chest like a rebuke.

  ‘I’m bang on forty minutes, like I said.’

  ‘If you’re going to start going out at lunchtime, what’s the point of me coming home?’

  ‘That’s a very interesting question.’ Minette took off her bike helmet. She didn’t know, till this moment, how angry she was. ‘Because all these months I’ve been wondering myself what the fucking point is of you coming home for lunch. I suppose I thought it was so you could nag me about how I never do anything educational with Tilly.’ She realised she was shouting but she couldn’t seem to stop. ‘Now for the first time, it is useful you being here: it gives me one tiny bit of fucking time to do what I want, by myself, in the whole of the long, draggy day.’ It was so out of character for her to lose her temper that Abe took a step back.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You’re right.’

  Minette subsided immediately. ‘No, I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re training for this triathlon, and you don’t have much time. I didn’t think.’

  ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘No, it’s not. I’ve been rubbish. I’ll take your form to work and get everyone to sponsor you. And I’ll wait with Tilly now while you have a shower.’

  ‘Abe, that’s amazing.’ She gave him a kiss. ‘Sorry I yelled.’

  No wonder she was tired after that unusual combination of physical activity and emotional outburst. Like a textbook mummy, she fell into a deep sleep almost instantly, and didn’t hear her phone, which was in the hall, the first few times it rang. But gradually it seeped into her consciousness, pulling her out of an enjoyable dream about Liam, in which they were at a party. He was telling her that he’d slept with everyone in the room, and she was laughing. As she staggered blearily out of bed, she was slightly puzzled as to why she hadn’t minded him telling her that.

  She’d missed several calls from the same, unknown number. She rang it, and a woman said, ‘Forest Lodge Primary?’

  Minette explained about the missed calls, and the woman thanked her for phoning back. ‘I’m Sophie Wallis, the school secretary. I’m sorry to bother you, Ms Fairbanks, but I’m afraid Mrs Brooke hasn’t come to collect Davey.’

  Ah, it was Davey’s school. Minette squinted at the clock. Four fifteen. She’d been asleep for over an hour, no wonder she felt foggy and confused. ‘Do you want Cath’s number?’

  ‘We’ve tried it several times but it goes straight to voicemail. Your details are listed in our records as Davey’s emergency contact.’

  ‘Really?’ Minette was wide awake now.

  ‘Well, you and a lady called Gina, but she’s not answering her phone either. So I’m afraid as you’ve called back first, you’ve drawn the short straw. Are you able to collect Davey? I need to head off at five.’

  ‘Oh! Yes, of course. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.’

  ‘That’s fine, thank you so much.’

  Minette hung up, and put her lenses in. She’d only been to Davey’s school once, when Cath drove her there, but she looked up the route; it was pretty straightforward. She roused Tilly, strapped her into the buggy, and went round to bang on Cath’s door, but there was no answer. She set off, trying Cath’s number every so often. It went straight to voicemail each time. Where was she?

  The school was quiet, all the children having gone apart from poor Davey, who was sitting in the foyer reading a book. He looked up when she called his name, and regarded her with his habitual intense scrutiny.

  ‘Hey, sweetie, you OK?’ she asked, and he nodded.

  The school secretary was wearing her coat, ready to go. She accompanied them out, and as they parted ways at the gates she said, ‘Davey has a little sister, doesn’t he?’

  ‘That’s right. Oh god, I guess I ought to collect her, too. But I’m not sure how to get to her nursery from here.’ As with the school, Minette had only been there once, that somewhat traumatic visit with Cath when Lola had eaten the peanuts.

  Davey said, ‘I know the way.’

  ‘You do? Can you show me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And you can wheel yourself?’

  ‘It’s not very far.’

  ‘He’s amazing, isn’t he?’ the secretary said, looking relieved to be handing this problem over. ‘Hopefully you’ll hear from Mum soon.’ She waved as she got into a red Mini Cooper. Minette, pushing Tilly, followed Davey across the road and into an unfamiliar back street. He was surprisingly fast, pushing the large wheels of his chair with practised ease. He must have incredibly strong arms. Minette had to trot along to keep up with him. They turned left into another street, went right at the end of that one, and then he stopped outside a building whose brightly coloured sign announced Busy Tigers Preschool.

  ‘You are clever, Davey.’ Fancy an eight-year-old being so savvy.

  ‘I can’t go in, there’s no ramp,’ he said flatly.

  She asked him to wait, and took Tilly out of the buggy and up the steps. There were several children in the large playroom, the nursery presumably closing later than school. Lola was painting splashily at an easel. Minette spoke to the woman in charge, Sharon, who clearly remembered Minette from the M&M incident. Sharon looked worried.

  ‘We can’t release the child to anyone other than the people named in the file. You know Mrs Brooke is a real stickler for protocol.’ She rummaged around in her cabinet till she found a folder with Lola’s name and photo on the front.

  ‘Here we are. Catherine Brooke, Gina Grainger and Minette Fairbanks.’

  ‘Oh, that’s me!’ said Minette, surprised all over again that Cath seemed to have set her up to be in loco parentis, for this very eventuality, in fact, without mentioning it.

  ‘Do you have ID?’ Sharon said. ‘I’m sorry to have to ask, but Mrs Brooke …’

  Minette showed her bank card, and Sharon looked relieved. She explained gently to Lola that she was to go home with Minette. Lola accepted this matter-of-factly, and skipped off to get her things. Minette said, ‘Has Cath given you information about Lola’s allergies?’

  ‘Yes of course,’ Sharon said defensively, ‘and we never found out who brought those peanuts in, everyone denied it, you know.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that, I’m not sure of all the allergies myself and wanted to check them before I take charge of Lola.’

  Sharon gave Minette a look, as if to say, why are you taking charge of this child if you don’t know her medical details? Minette started to feel aggrieved; she hadn’t asked for this responsibility, after all. But then Lola came over and slipped her warm, slightly painty hand into Minette’s, and her anger dissolved.

  ‘She can’t eat fish, or any kind of nuts, including peanuts, as you know.’

  ‘Peanuts aren’t really nuts,’ chirped Lola.

  ‘That’s right, I believe.’ Minette smiled at her.

  ‘And she can’t have milk either.’

  ‘Poor old Lola,’ Minette said. ‘No hot chocolate?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Lola said,
‘I love hot chocolate.’

  ‘The kind made with hot water,’ Sharon said, firmly.

  Minette let Davey lead the way home. This was still an unfamiliar part of town to her, and he clearly knew where he was going. Neither child seemed particularly upset about the absence of their mother. Minette had considered how to explain what might have happened, but she didn’t need to – they didn’t ask, or even mention Cath.

  ‘We’ve got new taps at school,’ Davey informed Lola.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because. They look like old taps. They say “Boss” on them.’

  ‘Are they bossy?’

  ‘It’s the make.’

  ‘What colour are they?’

  ‘Silver. They stay on when you push.’

  ‘I like taps like that.’

  ‘You’ve never seen them.’

  ‘I have!’

  ‘Where then?’

  ‘A place I went one time. You weren’t there.’

  How extraordinary to think that Tilly, enjoying herself immensely in the company of these two big kids, would be like them in just a few years’ time. Able to walk, and hold a conversation, even bicker. To carry her own backpack, like Lola. To find her way home from a mile away, like Davey. With surprise, Minette found that they were at the top end of Sisley Street; she had barely noticed how they’d got there.

  ‘You’re a marvel, Davey, you know that? So, you guys better come to mine, and I’ll give your mum another call.’

  ‘I’ve got the key to our house,’ Davey said. He pulled out a chain from around his neck that had a Yale key threaded onto it. Minette was taken aback. Surely this was independence taken a step too far? Minette had heard of the philosophy of free-range children, but wasn’t he too young to be a latch-key kid?

  ‘Are you,’ she asked casually, ‘often at home without your mum?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ said Lola, chirpily.

  ‘Well, would you mind coming to mine for a bit? I have to do Tilly’s supper and I can make something for you two, as well.’

  Davey and Lola looked at each other, and then, as though they’d silently discussed it, they both said yes. Minette’s hallway was wide, like Cath’s, so Davey could get into the living room easily.

  ‘Ooh, look at the big telly,’ Lola cried.

  ‘Do you mind watching CBeebies?’ Minette asked. ‘It’s the only one that’s suitable for Tilly.’

  ‘We like CBeebies,’ Lola said, all chatty. ‘Can Tilly sit next to me?’

  Minette gave them chocolate biscuits and left them happily watching, Tilly’s attention torn between the telly and gazing adoringly at Lola. Minette dialled Cath’s phone again, not expecting to get a reply, but it was answered. ‘Cath? Oh, thank god. Are you OK?’

  A woman with a Scottish accent said, ‘Hello, I’m Sister McCarty. I’m a nurse at Brighton General.’

  ‘Oh my god! I’m Cath’s neighbour. Is she all right?’

  ‘No need to worry, we think Mrs Brooke will be just fine.’

  Minette breathed out. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘She was knocked off her bike earlier today. She’s bruised and got a wee bang to her head. We’ve given her something to help her sleep it off. She had ID on her but her phone’s locked, so we’re glad you rang it. You don’t know her next of kin, by any chance?’

  ‘Her husband works away from home, and I’ve never met him. I’m looking after her children right now.’

  ‘Ah, she’ll be glad to know that, I’m sure. Are you able to look after them overnight?’

  ‘Yes, of course, Nurse,’ Minette said, sounding like her mother-in-law, who called taxi drivers ‘Driver’. It would be nicer for the children to sleep in their own home. She could stay there, in the spare room. Don’t think about the last time you were in the spare room, Minette. Focus.

  ‘When Mrs Brooke wakes up I expect she’ll want to speak to you, hear how the kiddies are doing.’

  ‘How long will she be in for?’

  ‘She should be able to come out in a couple of days, all being well.’

  Minette suddenly wondered if Davey, being a clued-up boy, knew the passcode on his mum’s phone. The nurse hung on while she asked him, briefly explaining to the children what had happened to Cath.

  ‘It’s 1531,’ he answered, then added, ‘She doesn’t know I know it.’

  ‘You star!’ Minette passed this on, and waited while the nurse tapped it in.

  ‘Great, I’m in. Do you know the husband’s name?’

  ‘Andy, I think. And she has a close friend called Gina. If you give me their numbers I’m happy to ring them, you’re probably very busy.’

  ‘Ah, that’s kind of you. Hold on a minute while I look through the contacts. Here we are. I can’t see an Andy. I’ll look under “Husband”. Oh yes, there’s a number for “Hubby”.’ The nurse read out his number and Gina’s, and Minette jotted them down.

  She said goodbye to the nurse, and rang Gina first, but it was another answerphone. She left a message, then wondered what to do about calling Andy. After all, Cath had said they were having a break. Clearly, their marriage wasn’t exactly in a brilliant state. Minette could look after the children tonight, maybe a couple of nights, but they ought to have someone from their family with them. She was already worried about how she’d get them to school and nursery tomorrow, though she imagined that Davey had the routine down pat.

  Minette rang Abe, and he said that of course she should call Andy, and added that he’d come home early to help out. Feeling like a shit because he was being so nice today, Minette texted Liam to say she’d be in Cath’s house later that evening. In the last week or so they’d met there twice during the day. This would be another excellent opportunity, though more awkward, with the kids being there. Still, her skin prickled at the thought of Liam, his hands on her body, his mouth on her neck, her lips … And Abe would be safely out of the way, stuck in their own house with a sleeping Tilly … She pushed this unworthy thought away and dialled Andy’s number.

  He answered on the first ring. ‘Hello?’

  She’d barely begun to explain who she was, and why she was calling, when he interrupted. ‘You’ve got the children? Are they OK? What’s your address?’

  Something wasn’t right. His tone was too urgent. She said, ‘I live next door to them.’ She wasn’t going to give him the address if he didn’t know it.

  ‘I swear to god, you’re the voice of an angel. Please, just tell me where they live.’

  ‘Don’t you know?’

  ‘You must know that I don’t.’

  ‘I don’t know anything, honestly.’

  There was silence. ‘Hello?’ Minette said.

  ‘I’m still here.’ He sounded as if he was crying. ‘Listen, are they all right? How’s Adam?’

  ‘Who’s Adam?’

  ‘My son, my boy. Oh Christ, don’t tell me she’s changed their first names, too.’

  Minette started to panic. ‘I’m sorry, I think I’ve made a mistake. I thought you were their father.’

  ‘I am their father! Adam’s eight years old. He has beautiful dark grey eyes with thick lashes and he’s smart as a tack. He’s in a wheelchair. Esmie’s four. She’s got light brown hair and she usually wears it in two plaits. Her favourite teddy is Panda. I miss them so much my heart’s broken.’

  Minette’s mind was reeling. ‘I don’t want to get in between something here.’

  ‘I only want to see them. I’m terrified for them.’

  ‘There’s no need, they’re happy and well.’

  ‘They’re not. You don’t know the half of it. Ruby’s not what you think.’

  ‘I don’t know a Ruby, I’m sorry. I’m going to have to hang up now.’

  ‘I don’t know what she’s calling herself now. She used to be Ruby. Please don’t hang up! Just tell me what names the children have now. Or the part of the country you’re in. Or are you abroad? Please tell me something. Anything! Is Adam there? Could I speak to him? Just for th
irty seconds?’

  Trembling, Minette ended the call, and threw the phone down as though it was on fire. It immediately rang with Andy’s number. She pressed ‘decline’, but it rang again straight away. She turned the phone off; she’d have to change her number if this carried on. She put her head round the living room door, thought about saying ‘Esmie!’ to see if Lola turned round, but knew she shouldn’t get involved. There had clearly been all manner of domestic shit going down, and it would be wiser to stay out of it. Cath was a great parent. Minette had often marvelled over her patience, wished she could be as calm with Tilly as Cath was with her two.

  Abe arrived, and was very reassuring. ‘You did the right thing, Dougie. It was right to phone him, then when you realised it was a bit weird, you were right not to give too much away.’

  ‘What the hell’s going on there, though?’ she whispered. ‘Why has she changed their names?’

  ‘Probably domestic violence. That’s what it would be if it was a client at work.’

  ‘Oh god, seriously? I hope I haven’t put them at risk by ringing him.’

  ‘Hang on, though, she had his number on her phone. Well, there’s no point in speculating.’ Abe had seen this sort of thing before. ‘People’s relationships are incredibly complicated. No one outside them can ever really know what’s going on.’

  He looked so concerned and caring. Minette wanted to warn him against herself. Oh, my love, sometimes people inside the relationship don’t know what’s going on, either.

  It was enjoyably different, having a meal with older kids. Tilly ate everything without a fuss, following Davey and Lola’s examples. Lola ate unconcernedly, barely paying attention to Minette’s careful recital of the strictly non-allergenic ingredients she’d used. They were uncurious about their mother, beyond Davey wanting to check where they’d be sleeping that night. She wished she could tell Davey she’d spoken to his father. Hell, she wished she could ask Davey what was going on. She’d probably get more sense out of him than some of the grown-ups involved.

  After they’d eaten, Davey asked very politely if he could use the computer. Abe said, ‘Sure,’ but Minette shook her head at him. ‘Your mum told me you weren’t allowed to, Davey; it’s bad for your muscles.’