Rachel was determined to put a stop to any unpleasantness before it had chance to begin. She believed in nipping things in the bud, and that was her sole intention as she strode confidently across the road, and up to the doorway of her neighbours house. With total confidence, she pressed the doorbell and waited. After a minute or so the young woman came to the door, looking quite nervous, and holding the door to her hip.
“Hiya! Are you alright? I’m Rachel - your new neighbour across the road! Are you alright?”
“Oh, hi,” said Suzanne, in as friendly a manner as she could muster under the circumstances. The circumstances being that her husband was stood out of view a few feet behind her, and had just forbidden her to open the door.
“So, I just thought I’d come and say hello, and let you know we’re not the absolute scum of the earth! It was a bit strong what they were saying on the news. So, I just want you to know, we don’t have any criminal convictions, my fellah works two jobs, and our kids are all doing really well at school, my eldest lad is a school prefect. I volunteer for the RSPCA charity shop on Mondays and Tuesdays, and I help at the Citizen’s Advice on Fridays while the kids are at school, and I’m a member of the PTA. Treasurer, actually.” Rachel was smiling as she said it, and Suzanne couldn’t help but instantly warm to her friendly, and forthright nature. “Although, in saying all that, I’m far from perfect - I have no idea where the sugar is. So I just wondered if you might be able to lend me some until I can get down to the shop please?”
“Oh, right, well yes - of course. And we weren’t thinking…” Suzanne felt it necessary to explain that she didn’t believe the reports in the media. But her eyelids flickered intensely as she spoke, giving away her insincerity.
“Listen, don’t worry about it. I’d feel exactly the same if the shoe was on the other foot. But it’s hurtful what the papers were saying, and I just want you to know that even though we might only be here for a matter of weeks, or months, you’ll get no trouble from my family. We’ve never caused any grief before, and we’re not about to start now. I want to be very specific about that.”
“Suzanne,” shouted Graham from behind her. “Can you hurry up please, I need a lift to the club.”
“Oh, right darling, one moment. What did you need…”
“Rachel.”
“Yes, of course, Rachel. Was it sugar?”
“Do you not mind? Those two are on a go-slow until I get them a brew on.” Rachel rolled her eyes, forcing Suzanne to laugh.
“One moment, I’ll grab you some.” Suzanne turned and walked into the house. She had a brilliant figure, thought Rachel as she pushed the door very lightly with her finger, forcing it to open a little more. She saw somebody stood in the hallway. It was the man from the window.
“Hello,” said Rachel, awkwardly. Graham looked away and walked over towards the stairs, completely ignoring his new neighbour.
“Suzanne, for God’s sake hurry up woman!” he shouted as he began walking up the staircase that was identical to the one in Rachel’s house.
“I’m coming!” shouted Suzanne nervously, as the top of the sugar tin fell out of her hand and clanged loudly as it met the ceramic floor tiles. Rachel watched Graham disappear into a room at the top of the stairs, just as Suzanne came back with a Tupperware container filled with sugar.
“Here you go, Rachel.” Suzanne handed her the tub. She had a beaming smile.
“Thanks. Sorry to intrude. I’ll get back, get this brew sorted.” Rachel brushed her hair behind her ear as she spoke. “Please, mention what I’ve said to your….”
“Graham. He’s my husband. I will, and thank you for coming. It’s been ever so lovely to meet you.”
*****
“So what was said?” asked Mick, leaning against the sink with his brew between his hands. Johnny was stood beside him, but facing the opposite way, gawping out of the window at the back garden as Rachel put her steaming tea bag on the edge of the sink.
“I just said, don’t worry, we’re not the scum of the earth. And asked her for a cup of sugar.” Johnny began laughing loudly.
“You didn’t!” said Mick.
“I did. I told her we’re alright us, and we bloody are! I wasn’t lying. She seems alright, but that husband of hers…”
“Husband? Fucking hell. He looks old enough to be her dad!”
“Grandfather more like!” said Mick. Johnny laughed loudly.
“Well, I don’t think he’s that old, but he’s a bit of a knob-head anyway. He just blanked me when I let on to him. He was stood behind the door while she was talking to me. And he talks to her like she’s a piece of shit.”
“Right, well don’t worry about it. We’ll just stay out of their way, I’m not letting any stuck up toss-pots ruin our big day.”
“Amen to that!” Rachel bashed her cup against Mick’s. “Cheers”
“Cheers.”
“Right, hurry up with that brew and then get your arses down to Argos. I’ve reserved the stuff, here, take this reservation number in with you. It comes to four hundred and sixty seven quid.”
“Is that all?” asked Mick, looking surprised that Rachel had ordered so much stuff for such a small amount of money.
“I’ve got most of the stuff in the sale. And don’t forget, there’ll be more to get tomorrow. But it’s saved us a fortune with having fitted wardrobes and that. We’ll still have to get some wardrobes and drawers and stuff for when we get our proper house.”
“And what about summat to sit on?” asked Mick.
“I’ve ordered some fold out garden chairs. They’ll have to do for now Mick. They’re only a fiver each.”
Rachel and Mick had been saving hard since the fire. The fire brigade said it was a fault on the drier that had started it. Luckily, it was only possessions that were harmed, all of the family were out at school or work. It had been a massive trauma for the family, returning home to find that the house they’d left that morning, had been completely gutted by the fire and the smoke damage. Neighbours had seen the smoke, but had just assumed it was a back garden bonfire. By the time the fire brigade had been alerted, Rachel and Mick’s home had been destroyed. But it didn’t take long to get over, as Rachel reminded everybody time after time, “We can replace the stuff, that’s easy. Toys, bikes and computers and all that shit is easy to replace. But I could never replace any of you, so if that’s our bad luck, if that’s our nightmare - thank God it happened when it did, and none of you were hurt. We’re the luckiest people in town.” Liam, Britney, Noel and Shania had no real understanding of what their mum was talking about, but had nodded anyway.
The family home had been on the Gameshawe estate where the couple had grown up, a huge council estate with a population of fifteen thousand people in the north of Manchester. Like all council estates in Britain, Gameshawe had its fair share of social problems. But it wasn’t all drugs, burglaries, alcoholism and anti-social behaviour - the estate had plenty of hard working families who wanted better for their kids, and worked hard to set a good example and maybe one day, move away into privately rented homes. A few had even bought their homes off the council under the “right-to-buy” scheme. Mick and Rachel had themselves applied to the council for a valuation on their property, just weeks before the fire.
Their biggest regret was the fact that they hadn’t had contents insurance. After the fire had been assessed, and the cause was confirmed as accidental due to an unforeseen electrical fault, it seemed that the twenty four pound a month premium was worth it. But before the fire, as they struggled to make ends meet each month with rocketing gas and electric prices, the insurance had been ditched. They didn’t dwell on it, Rachel believed that life was too short to go on a downer about things that couldn’t be changed. The family made plenty of jokes about their rotten luck, but Rachel was always quick to put it in perspective.
“And what if your dad had been on nights, and was in bed on his sleeping tablets? There’s no insurance that would have got us your ugly
dad back.”
Mick had taken on a second job, washing up at night in a Chinese restaurant in town. It was a cash-in-hand job, in between his shifts at the wallpaper factory where he worked full time. He was making twenty five pounds for each four hour shift, and every penny was put into the family’s savings fund, ready for the day that a new house came up, to replace the claustrophobic static caravan that the family had been provided in the meantime.
The meantime had lasted a lot longer than anybody had anticipated, and the family of six had had to endure the cramped conditions for the previous eighteen months. The council had been extremely supportive, and appeared very sympathetic to the difficulties they faced with six people sharing a static caravan - but like most local authorities, Bury Borough was facing social housing demand like never before, due to the lack of affordable homes available.
With all of that finally behind them now, and thanks to the sudden availability of the homes on Haughton Park, it was now finally time for Rachel and Mick to start spending the savings, and to start re-building their lives in their new place. On this first, joyful day in the luxurious temporary home - things seemed, finally, to be getting back on track.
But if Mick and Rachel could have had any idea of what lay in store - they’d have stayed put in the caravan indefinitely.
Chapter Two
Mick and Johnny had been working late, building the beds, constructing the bedside cabinets, putting together shelving units and other items of furniture that they had collected earlier in the day from Argos. Rachel had also been kept busy, sorting through the dozens of bin bags that contained all of the family’s possessions, then ironing and putting the clothes away in each of the four kid’s bedrooms. It was gone two in the morning when Johnny had left and the couple finally turned in for their first night at the property.
“They’d better not get too used to having a bedroom each, with en-suite facilities,” joked Rachel as she got into her pyjamas and got into the new double bed.
“As long as they don’t start thinking I’m their bloody butler.” Said Mick, smiling - but he was quite concerned, and thought it was a better idea for the girls to share a room, and for the boys to share too. He was worried that the kids might get a little too used to the luxury and it will be difficult for them to re-adjust when they finally got a council house back home on the Gameshawe estate.
“Oh give over!” said Rachel, “They’ve been cooped up in that bloody caravan for nearly two years. And they’ll probably never live anywhere like this again. Just leave them be. And this bed’s shite, I can feel the springs already.”
“You bought it. I’ve told you, if you buy shit, you buy twice.”
“It’s still better than that fold down crap in the caravan.” Rachel puffed up her pillows. “Night love, thanks for your hard work today.”
“It’s alright. We’ll have to get Johnny a crate or summat. I offered him fifty quid before for using his van and that, but he was having none of it.”
“Aw, he’s a good egg isn’t he? He made me piss today, do you remember when he said he had the heebie jeebies!” Mick and Rachel started laughing loudly at the memory. “I swear down, I’ve not heard anyone say that since I was about five!” added Rachel giggling. Mick was still laughing, the phrase was a real blast from the past.
“Seriously though Rach, that guy over the road seems like a right dick. I hope he’s not going to cause us any shit. Remember what the council said - if we cause any hassle, we’ll be straight back in the mobile home, and struck off the waiting list.”
As part of the tenancy agreement on Haughton Park, the council had issued a strict code of conduct. It stopped short of demanding that any unexpected farts should be itemised, but only just. In their desperation to get a real home for their children, and themselves - they’d agreed to all of the terms and conditions laid down.
“I know. Don’t worry about him. If we just keep out of his face, he’ll forget we’re even here in a few days. It’s like my Gran used to say, life is like toilet paper. Most of the time you’re on a roll, but every so often some arsehole comes along and starts giving you shit.”
“Well, we can’t have some stuck up bastard like that jeopardising our future Rach. If he looks like he’s going to start, we need to go and tell them down at the council to chuck us in another house.” Mick was deadly serious, but Rachel was a bit more relaxed about everything.
“Trust me Mick, it’ll be right. I’ll make them a cake or summat tomorrow. I’ve already said, it’s the bloody papers and telly people who’ve got him stressed out. He’ll soon see that we’re just a normal family. It’ll be right. Now shut up, I want to finish my
book before my eye lids shut for the day.”
“What you reading?”
“It’s a crime book, about a police man who is killing the suspects in a murder case.”
“Any good?”
“No, it’s pretty boring to be honest.” Said Rachel, who amazed Mick with her ability to keep reading books even if she found them rubbish. She still needed to know what happened, she’d always say.
“Well I wouldn’t mind, you know, trying this new bed out. Check the springs and that,” Mick nudged Rachel in the kidney. “Bit of jiggy jiggy would be...”
“Mick,” said Rachel softly as she stared dispassionately at her novel.
“Yeah babe?”
“Turn over and shut up you idiot.”
Chapter Three
“Mick, wake up. Can you hear that?” Rachel was shaking Mick’s shoulder.
“What?”
“It’s kicking off.” Rachel leapt up out of bed and darted across the bedroom to the window, opening it wide as she pushed her head through, trying to see where all the noise was coming from. It quickly became clear that there was a commotion further up the avenue. Adults were shouting, arguing. There was a lot of swearing, but she couldn’t make out what exactly it was that was being said. It was still night time, and Rachel was struggling to see what was happening with only the light from the street lamp that obscured the view.
“Mick, it’s that new family we let onto yesterday, those that were moving in at the same time as us, a few doors up. They’re arguing with that creepy bloke from across the road.”
Mick didn’t seem interested. There was always something kicking off back home on the estate, and he had never taken any notice of that either.
“Shut up love. Stop waking me up.” Mick pulled a pillow off Rachel’s side of the bed and put it over his face.
“Mick, get up. He’s going to get leathered. Please love, go and sort it out.” Rachel was worried that the man who had been so frosty to her the previous day was about to get beaten up. The man and woman were shouting and swearing at him extremely aggressively. She knew that this was going to end with violence, any moment.
“Hurry up Mick.”
“Rach, shut up man.”
“Right, fuck you then, I’ll sort it.” Rachel put the big light on and looked for some shoes to put on her feet. This was enough for Mick, who reluctantly stretched out of bed and put his feet on the floor.
“Hurry up!” said Rachel as she raced out of the room.
“I thought we were supposed to be keeping our heads down?” shouted Mick as his partner raced down the stairs. “Rach! Wait for me.” Mick rushed after her, following her footsteps out into the street in bare feet. Rachel was already at the scene of the disturbance, and was gently pushing the man whose house it was back from the edge of his drive.
It was the goon from over the road, and that grass from Hattersley that Johnny had been going on about earlier, thought Mick. “Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he hobbled on the tiny stones on the street.
“Just calm down love, what’s going on?” asked Rachel as the man’s partner was hurling abuse back at the man from across the road.
“This fucking tool, banging on my fucking door, waking us all up - saying I’m playing my music too fucking loud! It was the fucking telly, and I was
asleep on the couch, so it weren’t that fucking loud!” The neighbour was well built, and was clearly angry, but the man who had given Mick and Rachel’s friend Johnny the heebie jeebies seemed oblivious to the danger he was in as he continued to antagonise the couple.
“If I could hear your bloody noise in my house, it was too bloody loud. Fact!” he announced, with a smug, almost psychotic expression on his face.
“It wasn’t fucking loud at all.” Interjected the man’s wife. “This prick is just looking for some shit to flick at us. Well, you’d better tell him to watch his back, he’s just come here to cause a load of fucking shit.”
Rachel had seen and heard enough. She had sussed out what was going on. She whispered to Mick to go and ask the creepy guy for his version of events, then quietly and calmly she stepped back across the lawn and spoke to the two furious neighbours, in a bid to try and calm them.
“Sssh, just shush a sec,” she said quietly. “That guy is a fucking wrong ‘un, right, just listen, I’ll bet you two a fucking tenner he’s already phoned the police right, so the best thing you can do is go inside, turn everything off and pretend you’re in bed. Don’t give the council an excuse to fire you off before you’ve even unpacked.”
“You reckon?” said the wife, as her husband still looked hyped and ready to attack.
“Serious. Just leave him to it, he’ll look a right cock when the dibble turn up to a sleeping street.” Rachel was talking sense, and had calmed them both down in no time. This was her main job at the Citizen’s Advice and she knew how it was done. All of the time she was speaking to the furious couple, Mick had inadvertently become the subject of the abuse, and was beginning to raise his voice at his tormentor.
The wife was much calmer now, and looked over at her husband, who nodded his understanding of Rachel’s advice. She looked back at Rachel. “Nice one love. We’ll sort this knob-head out another day. Cheers.” With that, they quietly turned, went into their house and within a minute, the downstairs of the house was in complete darkness.
Neighbours From Hell : DCI Miller 2: The gripping Manchester thriller with a killer twist Page 2