The Good Neighbour

by Beth Miller

  ‘Well, USPS or FedEx, they could do it in twenty-four hours, but it wouldn’t be cheap.’

  Sandy sat back. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll pay whatever.’

  ‘Also you would be giving those people kind of a big heads-up as to where you are located.’

  ‘True.’ Sandy thought for a moment. ‘But, you know what? They’ll only know I’m in the States. It’s a big place. That’s one of the things I like about it.’

  ‘OK, honey, you know these people.’

  ‘I hope I do. I really hope Minette takes the hint. Cos I don’t have a Plan B.’

  Chapter 28

  Minette

  ABE ALWAYS WENT into work late on Fridays – one of his protests against the nine-to-five – and he was ambling about in his dressing gown when there was a knock at the front door. Minette was occupied with making French toast, so Abe went to answer it. Minette couldn’t hear who he was talking to over the noise of the radio that she still gloried in playing loudly, but she heard the door shut. Then he called out, ‘Blimey, never had a delivery from UPS before.’

  ‘What’s UPS?’ Minette called back, but he didn’t answer. After a moment, he came back into the kitchen and said, ‘What’s this photo?’

  Minette stood at the stove, her back to him, stock still, cold ice filling her mouth. Cath had sent one of the dirty photos. It was all over. But why now? With the small part of her mind that wasn’t panicking, Minette rapidly searched for possible things she had done to trigger Cath’s revenge. For instance, Cath probably knew by now that she and Andy had been to Gina’s house. That was certainly enough to have triggered this. The bread started burning in the frying pan and she said, ‘Shit,’ and tried to prise it out but it was too stuck. She dropped the pan and bread into the sink and poured cold water onto the whole thing, splashing herself thoroughly as she did so. Then she turned round and waited helplessly for the guillotine to drop.

  ‘This is weird,’ Abe said. He was holding a brown envelope. ‘What do you make of this?’ Minette looked reluctantly at the picture in his hand. But it wasn’t what she was dreading to see.

  It was a photo of her and Abe, taken years ago in France. She still had very long hair, and was wearing a green dress she no longer owned. They stood with their arms around each other in front of a large cream-coloured building, Chateau Chambord, Minette remembered in some distant part of her brain. The photograph was creased where it had been folded into quarters.

  ‘Didn’t this used to be on our noticeboard?’ Abe went over to the board, puzzled, and started looking underneath things to see if he could find it.

  Minette’s heart started to beat again. She dried her hands and took the envelope from Abe, but it held no clues, other than being from an American delivery service. She shook the envelope and put her hand inside, but there was nothing else. The typed label was addressed to Abe.

  ‘How weird!’ she echoed. ‘It must be from Cath. So we were right that they’re in America.’

  ‘How do you know it’s from Cath?’

  Minette realised she had rushed into assuming it was from Cath because she associated Cath with having photos. She thought quickly. ‘Well, you’re right. It might not be. But we suspected they were in America, and that’s where this is from. And I can’t think of anyone else who might have taken the picture, she was an odd fish, for sure. It’s exactly the sort of thing she might have done, taken it and forgotten to give it back. Let’s put it back up, shall we?’ She took it from Abe and pinned it on the board. Then she got out a clean pan, and started all over again with a fresh piece of bread.

  She wondered when, and why, Cath had stolen the photo. And more pressingly, why she had returned it now. Was this just an opening salvo, a warning shot? Or could it be – and her heart lifted – the exact opposite, a kind of apology? This could just be Cath tying up loose ends, drawing a line under everything that had happened, returning stolen property.

  Abe sat down and started tapping on his phone. ‘Just telling Andy that we might have some evidence that they’re in the States.’

  Minette successfully turned the French toast over and said stiffly, ‘Yes, good idea.’

  Abe had never been so slow to get to work. He behaved as if it was a Sunday morning, and Minette was just about ready to scream by the time he finally left. She couldn’t think straight with him there. She practically shoved him out of the front door, saying that she and Tilly were going to wave him off from the garden. Once he’d disappeared, she sat on the bench, Tilly on her lap, and looked up at Cath’s house.

  What she would give to see Davey’s outline against the side window.

  Tilly yawned, and Minette realised that she too was wrung out. She took Tilly up and then took off her glasses – she hadn’t got as far as lenses this morning – and quickly fell asleep. She no longer mocked the ‘nap when the baby naps’ brigade.

  She woke from a dream about Davey handing her a pomegranate – confusingly, it was shaped like a banana. Feeling refreshed, though no wiser about the photo, she checked her phone. On the home screen were the first few words of a text from an unknown number, and those words made her sit up so fast she felt dizzy.

  Hi Minette this is Milo (Davey) now we are

  ‘You are where?’ she cried out loud. Had her dream summoned him? She swiped at the message so vigorously that nothing happened. She took a breath, wiped her hand on the pillow, and tried again.

  Hi Minette this is Milo (Davey) now we are in America it is quite nice. My address is 1320 East Maple Street Escondido that is in California in America see you soon.

  Minette dropped the phone as if it was a spider. She put on her glasses and sat against the headboard. She knew where Davey was! She could rescue him. But then, almost simultaneously, she knew that this was why Cath sent the picture. It wasn’t an apology. It was a warning. Had it been an apology – you idiot, Minette cursed herself – of course Cath would have sent the photo to her, not Abe.

  With a sick feeling, Minette realised that Cath was saying, don’t look for me. Stop trying to find me. Ignore any other messages you may receive. Or some more photos will come your way.

  After lunch, Minette put Tilly in the buggy and pushed her down towards the seafront. She was too restless to stay in the house. She thought about how she had run along these pavements during triathlon training, and of that run with Liam. Everything had seemed complicated then, but it was nothing compared to now. Every time she started towards her phone, to ring Abe, call Andy, tell them she knew exactly where the children were, she thought about the shock of the photos. Every time she considered doing nothing, just deleting the message and pretending it had never come, she knew she couldn’t. Then she tried to imagine Abe’s face when she told him about Liam, and what he would say, and she did an involuntary little gasp of horror. She couldn’t do that either. Shit, shit, shit.

  After half an hour Minette turned back, but was not ready to go home. She walked right past her front door, to the little park at the end of the street. She pushed Tilly on the swing, settling into the rhythmic back and forth, rocking slightly on her feet each time so she didn’t actually have to move. Push: Don’t tell. Push: Do tell. Push: Don’t tell.

  Push: He loves me.

  Her marriage and family, or Davey and Lola’s lives?

  Push: He loves me not.

  It would be better for Tilly if she did nothing.

  Push: He loves me.

  Could she live with herself, knowing she could have helped those children, but hadn’t?

  Push: He loves me not.

  But what about Abe?

  ‘Dud-ud, dud-ud,’ Tilly called, and Minette came to with a start. Tilly was going far too high in the swing. Minette stepped forward to grab the chain and slow the swing, then realised that Tilly was laughing, delighted.

  ‘More?’ Minette called. ‘You daredevil,’ and Tilly laughed still harder – ‘Dud-ud!’ – as she was pushed higher into the sky.

  ‘Hey Andy, seen this?’ Ab
e said.

  Andy looked over Abe’s shoulder. ‘Yes, it’s only thirty miles from San Diego airport.’

  ‘No, listen, it says here that in Spanish, Escondido means “hidden”.’

  ‘Ah! Ruby would just love that.’

  Abe and Andy high-fived each other. They were so fired up, they didn’t notice how quiet Minette was. She kept herself busy with cooking. Though both men told her not to bother, she was putting together a cassoulet and a vanilla soufflé. These were recipes which were usually guaranteed to take over her mind, but she was still constantly second-guessing whether she had done the right thing. I couldn’t have done otherwise, she told herself. You could have, and you should have, she replied. She wiped her hand across her forehead; it was boiling in there with the oven going full pelt.

  ‘Can I get that number Adam rang you on?’ Andy asked Minette. She handed her phone over, then thought, why does he need that?

  ‘You’re not going to call that number, are you, Andy?’

  ‘Not yet, not till I’m there,’ he said, tapping away. ‘So he knows I’m on my way.’

  ‘But we don’t know whose phone it is.’ Minette put her hands on the back of Abe’s chair to steady herself. I’ve done my bit, she wanted to say. I’ve already put myself at risk, over and over. As it stood, Cath wouldn’t know how Andy found out where they were. She might guess but, knowing Davey’s ability to keep quiet, it would only be a guess, nothing more. But if Andy contacted him with the number he’d called her on, it would be only too easy to work it out.

  ‘Well, no, but it’s clearly a phone he’s got access to,’ Andy said.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Minette said, her voice rising in pitch. ‘Suppose it’s Cath’s! Or someone she knows?’

  Abe put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Minette’s right. You don’t want to alert Cath that something’s up.’

  ‘But I didn’t reply last time Adam got in touch, and it didn’t make no difference,’ Andy said. ‘I wasn’t planning to text anyway, till I was in the cab from the airport.’

  ‘Turning up unannounced is far better,’ Minette said. ‘The element of surprise …’

  ‘OK, maybe you’re right,’ Andy said. ‘I won’t.’

  Minette looked at him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Oh great, another fucking thing to worry about.

  Abe had been looking up flights and now he said, ‘Here’s the best one. Leaves Heathrow tomorrow at 13.40, eleven hours later you pop up in San Diego, 16.55 their time.’

  ‘Abe, I’m sure Andy can book his own flight,’ Minette said, irritably. ‘He does travel the world for his job, you know.’

  ‘I don’t go by air, though,’ Andy said. ‘Last time I booked a flight was before I met Ruby, lads’ weekend in Spain, and I went into a travel agent to do it. That dates me.’

  ‘I suppose all that driving round for work, you just want to be at home when you can,’ Abe said, shooting a keep-it-together look at Minette.

  ‘Not lately,’ Andy said. He handed Abe his bank card to pay for the flight. ‘But this is going to be the most exciting journey of my life.’

  Chapter 29

  Milo

  NATHAN HAD A best friend, a boy called Chip. A chip here meant a crisp. Nathan said he could have two best friends. But it wasn’t the same as having a best friend all to yourself.

  Milo told Adam his best friends from all the different places he had lived. He didn’t tell Davey. He didn’t miss Davey like he missed Adam. Davey was just a short time thing.

  Kiera, from his nursery in Liverpool. He didn’t remember her very well, apart from her pink strawberry hairclip, but he remembered a painting she did of Father Christmas.

  Sammy was at his nursery in Harrogate, then they both went to the same school. He’d have said Sammy was his best friend when he left Harrogate, but Sammy hadn’t always been nice to him. He once laughed when an older boy said ‘retard’.

  Eric was the nicest boy at the Duchenne support group in Harrogate.

  His granddad and grandma weren’t exactly friends, because they were old, but Milo really missed them. He stayed with them a lot when his mum was busy.

  Olivia was the nicest person at Forest Lodge school. And a special bonus entry from MT. Milo knew MT was too grown-up to really be his friend, but he liked him anyway.

  Milo had been out at Grape Day Park, playing with Nathan and Chip. He’d not been back in the house long when there was a knock at the door. He answered it to a lady he didn’t know. Her hair was in a long brown ponytail and she was very smiley. ‘Hey, you must be Milo,’ she said. Milo’s mum came to the door, and the lady shook her hand and told them that she was Ashley, Nathan’s mom. She held up her phone. Milo was frightened for a minute that she was cross that he had used it, but she was still smiling.

  ‘I got a text today, I didn’t see it till just now, and I think it must be for Milo!’ She laughed when she said this.

  Milo’s heart started beating hard. Had Minette replied?

  His mum turned to look at him. ‘Why in the world would you be using Ashley’s phone?’ she said. She smiled too, not a real one. She said to Ashley. ‘I am so sorry,’ she said.

  ‘Not to worry at all,’ Ashley said. ‘I let Nathan use it all the time. It’s more his than mine.’ She laughed again. Milo could see that she really didn’t mind, but his mum looked very angry.

  ‘So, er, what was the message?’ Milo’s mum asked. Her hand was holding very tightly onto the edge of the door. ‘Who is it from?’

  Ashley consulted her phone. ‘It just says, “Hey Adam-Milo, I’ll be there in an hour. Love you. D.”’

  Dad. It was from Dad. Milo couldn’t believe it. He was coming. He was nearly here.

  ‘Could I just have a look at that, Ashley?’ Milo’s mum said. Her face was white, clean white like Gina’s sofa. Nathan’s mum handed her the phone.

  ‘My god, it was sent forty minutes ago,’ Milo’s mum shouted. Aunty Verna came running into the hall. Milo knew he was in massive trouble but he didn’t care.

  ‘I’m really sorry, is it a problem, can I help in any way?’ asked Ashley. She’d stopped smiling and looked worried.

  ‘It’s a huge fucking problem,’ Milo’s mum said, and Ashley put her hand over her mouth.

  ‘Excuse us please, won’t you?’ Aunty Verna said, and gave back the phone. ‘Thank you so much for coming round, it was really kind of you.’ She shut the door in Ashley’s face and turned to Milo. ‘What on earth were you thinking of, honey?’ she said, but she didn’t seem surprised.

  Milo’s mum was walking up and down the hall, backwards and forwards. ‘Think, think, I got to think.’

  ‘Look, honey, why don’t we just sit down and talk to Andy? I’m sure it will be OK, we just got to be rational about this …’

  ‘It’s not going to be fucking well OK, Verna.’

  ‘Please, Ruby, not in front of the child.’

  ‘Right.’ Milo’s mum stopped walking. ‘I reckon we’ve got ten minutes. Can I borrow Wade’s car?’

  ‘Sure, honey, it’s just sitting there on the drive. You absolutely sure you don’t want to see Andy, put an end to all this?’

  ‘It won’t put an end, it will never end, it will just keep going on and getting worse. Do me a favour Verna, I’m going to grab some clothes and my laptop, can you throw a bag together for the kids? Change of clothes, toothbrushes, teddies, that’s it, I can buy everything else and you can send me the rest of our stuff when we’re settled.’

  Milo’s mum ran upstairs and Aunty Verna followed her. He went into the rumpus room where Breeze was sucking her thumb and watching TV.

  ‘Daddy’s coming,’ he said.

  ‘Who is?’

  ‘Daddy, you remember?’

  She looked unsure. ‘He was naughty.’

  ‘No, he was nice.’

  ‘Mummy’s nice,’ Breeze said, and stuck her thumb in her mouth again. Milo sat down to watch with her. It was an old-fashioned cartoon, Milo couldn’t think of the n
ame, it was a duck with a funny voice. Milo had a long-ago memory of watching it with his grandparents back in Harrogate. He would see them again soon. He pinched the top of his nose so he wouldn’t cry.

  Their mum came into the room and turned off the telly. ‘OK kids, we got to go. Get in the car, I’ll explain on the way, Breeze. We got your brother to thank for this one. Don’t think I won’t be having a few words with you about this, Milo. Say bye-bye to Aunty Verna, hopefully we’ll be back soon, we’re just going on a little holiday.’

  ‘I thought we were already on holiday,’ Breeze said.

  ‘Another one,’ Milo’s mum said. ‘Car, now.’

  Breeze ran out. Milo stayed where he was. ‘Come ON,’ his mum said.

  ‘I’m not coming,’ he said.

  ‘You most certainly are. I’m not messing about. Get in the car. It’ll be OK. We can write to Daddy, tell him we’re OK. You can even talk to him on the phone, if you want. But we really have to go RIGHT NOW.’ Milo’s mum was crying. Her face was red now, not white. Milo felt sorry for her. But he knew he wouldn’t go, not even if a policeman told him to.

  ‘I’m not coming.’

  His mum grabbed his arm, tried to pull him to the door. He held onto the table, so she tried tickling him so he’d let go, but as soon as his hand slipped off one part of the table he grabbed another part. She pulled harder at his arm and he couldn’t hold on any more, so he dropped to the floor and grabbed the table leg with his free hand. The table started to move with him as his mum dragged him along the floor. The pink carpet was clean and bristly, and felt nice under his back.

  Aunty Verna called from outside the room, ‘Just popping a snack in the kids’ bag. Listen, sugar, if you’re going you oughta go.’ Then she came in and said, ‘What in the name of Beelzebub are you two doing? You planning to take my good table with you?’

  Milo’s mum said, ‘Can you help me, please, Verna?’

  ‘Help do what? Physically remove the child from this room? I don’t think so.’

  ‘He’s just being silly. You grab one leg, I’ll grab the other.’