The Good Neighbour

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The Good Neighbour Page 20

by Beth Miller


  Kirsten was first on her list. ‘Hey!’ she said when she opened her door to Cath and Davey. ‘How are you guys? Must be nearly triathlon day.’

  ‘Yep, one week today.’

  ‘I’ve got a 10K in a few weeks and I don’t feel ready at all.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Cath laughed. ‘It’ll be all right on the night, though.’ She took out her list. ‘We’re just collecting the money now, if that’s OK. It’s always such a bore doing it afterwards, you know …’

  ‘Oh! Sure.’ Kirsten grabbed her purse. ‘What did I put down?’

  ‘You were really kind, you put £100.’

  ‘Wow, I was feeling generous. Listen, I only have £50 in cash, I’ll do the rest in a cheque, shall I?’

  ‘Can you make it out to me?’ Cath said. ‘I’m going to collect all the money and give one big cheque to Duchenne, they prefer that.’

  ‘Course. Here you go.’

  ‘Wonderful. While I’m here, can I sponsor you for your 10K?’

  ‘Thanks!’ Kirsten handed Cath the form. ‘Where’s your sister, Davey?’

  ‘She’s at home.’

  ‘What, on her own?’

  ‘Yes,’ Davey said.

  Cath laughed. ‘He’s such a messer. No, she’s with the sitter. She was too tired to come out but Davey doesn’t mind giving me a hand, do you lovie?’ Cath ruffled Davey’s hair.

  They said goodbye and Cath consulted her list. ‘OK, let’s try Martin now. Davey, for god’s sake, what was all that? What happened to the golden rule?’

  ‘I don’t feel very well,’ Davey said.

  ‘Ah, c’mon, lovie, we’ve only just started.’

  ‘I really am tired, please can we go home.’

  ‘We’ll just do a few more.’ Cath pushed him past the scruffy student house to number 41. She hoped Martin would answer, but unfortunately it was Sarah, his unfriendly wife, who looked suspiciously at Cath. She leaned on her old-fashioned flowery stick, an unattractive accessory for a young-ish woman. There were far cooler sticks you could get now. The Duchenne kids who didn’t yet need wheelchairs had some great ones: fluorescent ones, ones with skull handles, or ones covered in rhinestones.

  ‘Lovely to see you,’ Cath said, and explained about the sponsor money.

  ‘What, in advance? You haven’t even done the race yet, have you?’

  ‘No, but the charity likes it …’

  ‘Bit dodgy if you ask me.’

  ‘It speeds up their admin, anyway, how is everything with you guys? How’s Callum, haven’t seen him out on his skateboard lately.’

  Sarah was not easy to deflect. ‘Well, I don’t even know how much Martin sponsored you, so you’ll have to come back later.’

  Cath looked at her form and said, ‘He pledged £80.’

  ‘He what? That’s ridiculous. He must have been drunk. We’ll give you a tenner. After you’ve done the race.’ She started to close the door, then looked down at Davey and said, ‘Oughtn’t you get that kid home? He’s wrecked.’

  Cath saw to her amazement that Davey was fast asleep in the wheelchair, out cold. ‘Oh!’

  Sarah shook her head, and shut the door.

  Poor Davey. Cath was furious with herself. He was genuinely unwell and she had forced him to come out. You are a terrible mother, a monster, she told herself as she pushed him quickly back home.

  She told Lola, still gazing at the telly, cakes all gone, to turn down the volume. She had to wake Davey gently to get him into his bed.

  ‘How do you feel, lovie?’

  ‘Head hurts. Tired.’

  Cath drew the curtains. ‘You do look very pale. Nothing worse than a sick headache. Do you want a cuddle?’

  ‘OK.’

  Cath lay on top of the covers and put her arm round Davey. His small soft hand curled loosely round her wrist. His other hand clutched onto his toy bear. Cath closed her eyes. ‘I can’t tell whether I’m touching your arm or the teddy. They’re both so soft.’

  ‘Waffles.’

  ‘My mummy had a long fur coat when I was a little girl. Fake fur, she called it, all soft, like your Waffles.’

  ‘He’s brown.’

  ‘Yes, her coat was brown too. Pretend mink. I didn’t have my own teddy, but I loved pressing my face against her coat when it was hanging in the cupboard. Mummy didn’t like me touching it, though, she thought I would make it sticky. She was a very busy lady, you know, very important. She worked in a big department store in Eastbourne. She was always rushing, rushing.’

  ‘Like you.’

  ‘Me? I’m not like her at all, lovie. I don’t even have a job now. My job is to look after you and Lola.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘So anyway, she’d always be running out in her fur coat. But sometimes, if I wasn’t well, she would stay home. She would put me to bed, like you are now, and close the curtains, and bring me little trays of food.’

  ‘What food?’ Davey sounded like he was drifting back to sleep. Well, no wonder he was tired. He’d got to bed pretty late last night, disturbed by her row with Minette. She was tired too, after that.

  ‘Soft boiled egg and soldiers, maybe …’

  ‘Yuck.’

  ‘No, you don’t like that, do you. Or toast and marmite, you’d prefer that. And a special little glass of juice. And her voice would be different from her busy voice. It was like an angel’s voice, really. I wish you’d known her. She died a long time ago, long before you were born.’

  Davey was asleep. Cath stayed still, so as not to disturb him. She knew that sometimes he said he felt ill when he didn’t. All kids did that, for the attention. She certainly had. But he never normally slept in the day. She wondered how much of the row he’d heard. He came out of his room some time after Minette had gone home, maybe nine thirty, saying he couldn’t sleep. Real shame about Minette. Cath had thought for a while that they were going to be proper friends. It wasn’t to be, sadly. You couldn’t be friends when there was no trust. The things that Minette had implied! Cath counted herself lucky she’d had the sense to put things in place to protect herself.

  She wished she could stay where she was, drift off to sleep with Davey. But there was too much to do. She carefully extricated herself from Davey’s clasp, and stood looking down at him. So beautiful. Like a sudden blow, Cath felt the absence of Andy by her side. When the children were tiny and she checked on them when they were asleep, she would often call Andy quietly. ‘Oh, come look, they are so cute.’ Standing silently by the children’s beds, Andy would put his arm round her, and they’d admire the rounded curved cheeks that they together had made, smiling at the little snuffles and moans, their funny sleeping positions.

  God, snap out of it, Cathykins. She shook her head violently. Remember Troubletown, remember having to leave work, remember what would have happened if she’d stayed. Remember Andy’s face. There was no going back. Andy wasn’t any kind of solution. He was the problem, really. He would make her deal with a load of stuff she didn’t want to. Moving forward, that’s what was needed. She didn’t really miss any of that crap, anyway.

  She went into her own room and updated her notebook. She put a big tick through the page for Kirsten. Only £100! When you thought about the size of the renovations Kirsten had been doing. Still, it wasn’t too bad, considering Cath hadn’t made much progress with getting to know Kirsten. She saw she’d written a note on Kirsten’s page to book Lola in for a cranial appointment with her; that was another ball she’d dropped. Ah well, can’t win ’em all. She turned to Martin and Sarah’s page, and noted that she would need to wait till Wednesday evening, when Sarah went out to some evening class and Martin was in on his own.

  She put the book away and fired up the laptop. She hadn’t had a chance to look at her email for a few days, and there were three from Verna. She replied:

  Dearest V

  I was just thinking about Mum today so it’s funny you mentioned her. It will be twenty-eight years next month. Looking forward to hearing more of y
our memories.

  Sorry that I’m changing like the wind here. You’re right, it might be sooner after all, rather than later. Still not sure of eta, things a bit up in the air, can I keep you posted? Thanks for looking into the stuff for me. Thought Duchenne might get better benefits there, bit of a shame. Still, turns out the easiest way to transfer UK benefits is to get Gina to collect and send them on.

  R xx

  Typing Gina’s name reminded her that they hadn’t spoken for a few days. She dialled her number.

  ‘Hey,’ Gina said, ‘I was just about to ring you.’

  Cath leaned back in her chair and smiled. ‘That’s nice. Great minds. I miss you. Don’t suppose there’s any chance of you popping down this evening, is there?’

  ‘Oh … I’d like to but I can’t, I got this thing with Ryan …’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’ll pop down tomorrow. And I’m coming next weekend anyway, aren’t I, for your crazy triathlon? So listen, bit of a weird one from Andy this time.’

  ‘I don’t need to know about it.’

  ‘He’s enclosed a letter from the hospital. Where you used to work?’

  How funny that she’d just been thinking about it, and now here it was.

  ‘It mentions that boy who died. Darren? It says something about a disciplinary.’

  ‘Tear it up, Gee, there’s a love.’

  ‘Sure?’

  Cath straightened her shoulders. Moving forward. ‘Yep. That’s all in the past now.’

  After they’d hung up, she looked up the Harrogate Advertiser online. It was there, on the homepage: ‘Police investigating child hospital death’. There was a school photo of Darren. A lousy picture but there was no hiding that cheeky grin. She smiled back at the picture. Absolutely lovely kid, one of the best she’d ever nursed. She realised that she must have had Darren in her head when she came up with Davey, another D name. She scanned the details of the report, but it didn’t mention her or any of the other staff. It just mentioned those mysterious ‘irregularities’. Yeah, pretty irregular, not recognising when a child was properly ill, not listening to his nurse, not giving him the treatment he needed. Still, no one believed her then, and there was no way that they would believe her now.

  She turned off the laptop, went downstairs, and checked on the kids. Davey was asleep, Lola still staring at the telly. Then she popped out to collect the rest of the money, giving Martin and Sarah’s house a miss. By the time she got home she was carrying almost 500 quid. Not bad for half an hour’s work. She put the money carefully in her ‘Duchenne’ cash box, and locked her bedroom door.

  Chapter 22

  Minette

  MINETTE FINALLY GAVE up on texting, and as soon as Abe had left for work she rang Liam.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, when he picked up, ‘I don’t want to stalk you. But we didn’t seem to be getting anywhere with texts.’

  ‘No, well, I’ve been pretty busy.’

  She knew from his voice that it was over between them. Then she told herself to get a grip. It was already over, the moment she saw those photos. No, it was over the moment Cath told her Josie was pregnant. Then she homed in on it. It was over the moment she saw Liam with Josie on the beach. His face, the way he looked at her. Careful, baby.

  ‘I promise it won’t take long,’ she said. ‘Can I pop over now?’

  ‘No, I’ve got some stuff to do this morning. Uh, with Josie.’

  ‘I’m doing my last training run at lunch time. How about joining me?’

  ‘I haven’t been for a run for weeks.’

  ‘I go pretty slowly.’

  They arranged to meet at the end of the street. Minette hung up and turned round, to find that Tilly was no longer sitting on the floor where she’d left her, but was holding onto a chair and standing up. ‘Oh, Tilly, you clever girl!’ Minette said, and had a little cry. Whether it was about Tilly, or over Liam, she wasn’t sure. When she’d composed herself, she made a phone call she’d been working up to for a few days.

  ‘Hi, Harry?’

  ‘Minette! I was just thinking about you, and cursing you, in fact.’

  ‘Oh dear, why’s that?’

  ‘I got lumbered with pulling together this damn job description.’

  ‘Does that mean you haven’t appointed anyone yet?’

  ‘I think you’ve forgotten how slowly the wheels turn here, my sweet. We haven’t even sent out the damn advert yet.’

  ‘In that case would this be a good moment to ask for my job back?’

  ‘Really? Are you kidding? Tell me again.’

  ‘I want to come back. Part-time, if that’s OK.’

  ‘Yay! Did you hear that? That was the sound of me ripping up the job advert. When can you start? I’ll sort everything out with personnel, don’t worry. Just get your lovely self back here pronto.’

  Minette was in her running clothes when Abe got home. She told him about deciding to go back to work. ‘That’s great news,’ he said, and kissed her. ‘I’m not sure being a stay-at-home mum really suits you.’

  ‘Well, you say that, but if I hadn’t been here I’d have missed Tilly standing up …’

  ‘Oh my god,’ he said, running into the kitchen. ‘Show me, Tills!’

  As Minette jogged to the corner, she thought how sad it would be, to be a single parent. No one else in the world was as fascinated by Tilly as her, except Abe. People like Cath had no one to share that stuff with. And how close Minette had come to throwing that away. Well, she wasn’t going to allow Cath to try and ruin things for her. But then … she slowed down. What about helping Davey and Lola? Jesus, there were no easy answers. Someone was going to get hurt, however it played out.

  Liam was waiting outside the shop, looking hot as all get out in running gear. He gave her an odd little nod, and set off at a ridiculous pace. She jogged after him, not trying to keep up, and after a moment he turned round and said, ‘You’re not going for speed at this triathlon, I take it?’

  ‘If we’re to talk, you’ll have to slow way down.’

  He settled into a more manageable pace alongside her. ‘Where are we headed?’

  ‘I usually go down as far as the pier.’

  ‘Bring it on.’ He was already slightly out of breath. ‘So, what is this vitally important thing you have to tell me that requires eight texts on a weekend?’

  ‘I’m sorry. You don’t know me well enough to know how out of character that is.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it. Go on, then.’ They turned the corner and ran down towards the seafront.

  ‘I saw Cath at the weekend …’ She paused while they crossed the road. ‘Liam, she’s taken dozens of photos. Of us.’

  ‘What do you mean? Us at her party?’

  Minette stared straight ahead at the path. The Palace Pier glittered, off in the distance. It looked impossibly far. ‘Photos of us, er, in bed.’

  ‘She’s got sex photos of us?’ Minette could feel Liam looking at her. ‘How?’

  ‘I think she set up a camera in the spare room.’

  ‘Can we please wait a minute?’

  They stopped running, and Liam bent down to get his breath, hands on his knees. Minette thought that he was really upset, but when he straightened up, he was grinning. ‘Are they good?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Do we look hot in them? Have you got one? I’d love to see them.’

  ‘Aren’t you shocked?’

  ‘Well, it explains a lot about Cath. Everyone’s got a kink, Minette.’

  ‘She didn’t take them for some sexual purpose. Christ, Liam, she’s threatening me with them.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Minette, I know you love the movies, but this isn’t Dial M for Murder. This is Cath we’re talking about, middle-aged mum next door who, we now know, gets off on perving over nudie pictures of her neighbours.’

  ‘You’re not listening.’ Minette started running again, fast, as if that would get her away from the situation. ‘And there’s no one else I ca
n talk to.’

  Liam chased after her. ‘So you can go faster if you want. Look, Minette, it doesn’t make any sense. Why would she want to blackmail you?’

  ‘Because I know something. Something bad.’

  ‘What is it? Christ, slow down a minute.’

  ‘I can’t say.’ Minette changed her pace back to a talking speed. ‘But let me ask you this. Do you think her kids are OK?’

  ‘They seem fine to me.’

  ‘Great teacher you’re going to make. Razor-sharp instincts.’ Minette was out of breath now.

  ‘Well, what am I supposed to have noticed?’

  ‘You don’t think she’s like, a little bit odd with them? That night I looked after them, when you came round, she told me to leave them in the house on their own.’

  ‘She was concussed, you said.’

  ‘And Davey has his own front-door key.’

  ‘Isn’t that quite impressive, though? Yes, she’s hands-off. But you know, there’s a balance, isn’t there, between laid-back parenting, and over-protectiveness.’

  ‘Meaning I’m over-protective, I suppose.’

  ‘You know what, Minette? I think we should keep out of it.’ Liam was breathing hard. ‘How much further are we going?’

  ‘You want another rest?’

  He shook his head. His face was beetroot, his hair plastered flat onto his forehead, and there were sweat patches down the sides of his vest. If she’d been trying to cure herself of lust, she couldn’t have found a better way.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘Cath’s a bit odd, sure. But those kids are not our responsibility. I think we should back off a bit. You certainly shouldn’t confide in her any more.’

  ‘Believe me, I’m not planning to. She made it clear that if I told anyone what I knew, she would show Abe the photos.’

  ‘Well, that makes it very simple. Don’t tell anyone. I don’t even know why you’re telling me about it.’

  ‘Because she said she would show Josie as well.’

  Liam stopped dead, panting, and grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Fuck’s sake, how did Josie get dragged into this? Why did you even tell Cath you knew this mysterious secret? What’s wrong with letting sleeping dogs lie?’

 

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