“Bloody hell Rachel, love, I know you said it was posh up here, but bugger me! I had no idea it was this posh! Can I move in as well? It’s gorgeous love! It’s absolutely gorgeous love!” Maureen had a tear in her eye as she looked up at the property. “God, I’m so proud of you, love.”
“Oh give over, mum.” Rachel was feeling quite emotional too.
“How’s it been going with the moving and unpacking anyway love?” asked Maureen.
“Aw, I’m knackered! Honest mum, I’m in and out like a blue arsed fly, up and down those stairs like a bleeding yo-yo.”
“Well, it’s one of the most stressful things you can do, moving house.”
“I know mum, but thanks for having the kids. We wouldn’t have got anything done with these little buggers here as well!”
“It’s my pleasure. Here, I’ve brought you a Vienetta to celebrate.” Maureen handed the carrier bag that she was carrying to Rachel.
“Aw, thanks mum!” Rachel kissed her mum on the cheek again.
“Alright Maureen?” asked Mick as he came to give his mother-in-law a hug.
“Bloody hell Mick, this is fantastic!” she said, looking as though she was over the moon for her family. “But look at my car on this posh street! I’ll go and park it down the road, it’s bringing the place down!”
Mick laughed. “Don’t be so bloody daft Maureen! At least you’ve got a car, there’s plenty that haven’t. Besides, you’re not up to your eyes in debt on yours. At least you own it. All these on here are on HP, the bank own them, not the folk driving them! Leave it where it is.”
“Have they been good, mum?” asked Rachel.
“Erm. Excited. Let’s just say that!” said Maureen with a twinkle in her eye. Rachel smiled and handed the carrier bag to Mick.
“Put that in the freezer – mum’s got us a Vienetta. Don’t let the kids see it.”
“Right, nice one,” said Mick, quietly.
“Come on mum, let’s give you the grand tour!” Rachel began dragging her mum up the drive.
“Okay love, let me just lock the car up.”
“You don’t need to lock the car around here Maureen. Too posh for car thieves up here, don’t you know.” Said Mick, using an awkwardly delivered posh accent for the last part of his sentence. Rachel and Maureen laughed out loud as they entered the house.
“Right, well, show me around. It must be heaven coming here after the caravan. God bless you all, you really do deserve a break.” Maureen looked as though she was close to tears again.
“Do you want a brew Maureen?” asked Mick, as he followed his partner and his mother-in-law inside the house. The kids were still wailing and running about like morons inside.
“Oh my God! Look at it! Oh for the love of Christ this is absolutely stunning!”
“Come and look at the en-suite bathroom mum, they even have those things to wash your bits.” Rachel gestured down to her groin.
“It’s absolutely stunning! It’s beautiful. Yes, I will have a brew Mick, but get Britney to do it, she makes a cracking cup of tea. I can’t drink your brews love, sorry.”
“This is the front room. Sorry, the lounge. We haven’t got a settee yet, so we’re just making a do with these deck chairs for now. Mick’s going to look on Manchester buy and sell for one, we’ve still got about two hundred and fifty quid left. But we’ve bought brand new beds and furniture for the bedrooms.”
“Aw, you’ve done really well. We had bean bags when you were a baby love, do you remember? I quite missed them when we got a proper settee.” Said Maureen.
“Britney, come and do your Granny a brew.”
“Don’t call me Granny Mick. I hate that. It makes me sound dead old.”
“You are dead old Maureen!” laughed Mick.
“You cheeky likkle bastard. I’m only forty five!” Maureen stared sternly at Mick as she spoke.
“Ha ha! You’re so full of it!”
“Right mum, come on. Britney, make your Grandma a brew please love. Right, so, kitchen first…”
After a good, fun half an hour of looking around and testing out the various devices such as the automatic garage doors, the garden sprinkler and the bidet, Rachel sat all of the children down on the deck-chairs in the lounge.
“Right, I know you’re all dead excited about everything, but me and your dad need five minutes with you to talk about things.” Said Rachel, to a chorus of snoring noises and groans.
“Bor - ing!” shouted Liam.
“Kill me now!” groaned Britney.
“Shut up right, listen right,” said Mick. “Hands up if you like the house.”
All four of the children, as well as their grandmother placed a hand up in the air.
“Right, good. I thought you’d all say that. Now hands up who wants to go back and live in that mouldy old caravan?” asked Mick, smiling. He laughed as all of the family kept their hands firmly on their laps.
“No way!” said the youngest of the group, Shania in her small, cute voice.
“Nah, you’re alright dad,” said Liam.
“Well, listen up,” said Rachel, pulling an A4 paper booklet out of her bag. “This big massive book is a list of all the rules that we are basically going to have to follow one hundred per cent, or we’ll be back in that caravan for good. I’m being serious - it even says that if we do something that forces us to get kicked out - it’ll happen in twenty four hours, honest, there’s absolutely no messing about with these guys.” Said Rachel, pleased to see how seriously her family were taking it, as they all sat quietly, paying attention to their parents and not arguing amongst themselves.
“Most of it’s proper logical to be honest,” offered Mick, as he realised that the kids looked quite scared and upset at the option of having all this taken away from them, before they’d even stayed a night.
“Don’t look sad,” Rachel smiled at everyone. “I just want you all to know the rules, so we don’t make a mistake and get kicked out. Bottom line is this - best behaviour at all times. That means no fighting or arguing. If someone is doing your head in, just go and chill out by yourself in your room. We could get evicted if a neighbour complains about a loud argument. It’s that strict. I shit you not.” Rachel tried to press home the seriousness of the rules with a gentle shake of the head, letting her children know that it wasn’t just them that thought it was all a bit harsh.
“Thing is,” interrupted Mick, in a bid to help his missus out, “if anybody started giving you any jip, say a neighbour came over and said “hoi, your football just touched a blade of my grass,” the kids all laughed at Mick’s sarcastic expression, “you need to just say sorry, and walk away. No cheek, no back chat. Hands up if you all understand that.”
Everybody put their hand in the air once again, though Britney made it look like it took tremendous effort.
“Right, Britney, come here a minute.” Mick gestured her with his hand.
“Why?” she asked in her typical teenage, stroppy manner. She was becoming a real pain in the arse, thought Mick, but he was determined to get her to cheer up a bit.
“Because I want to practise this out, right. So, say I’m a neighbour. And you’re you.”
“Right dad, get on with it. You’re starting to grate on me.” Britney wobbled her head from side to side as she spoke, to demonstrate that she was being serious.
“Don’t be like that love,” said Rachel.
“I know but it’s dumb. I get it. Don’t do anything wrong, I don’t need to role play with you like I’m some kind of a retard.”
“Come on Britney, don’t be a dip-shit.” Mick was smiling.
“Oh my God dad, who even says that now. Shut up!”
“I’ll do it dad.” Noel stood and walked over to his father. He loved taking part in these kind of family meetings.
“Right, good lad. So, I’m a neighbour right, and I’ve just nearly knocked you off your bike. So I’m going to start bollocking you, and you have to be really nice and just say sorry, yeah
?” Mick looked encouragingly at his son.
“Yeah, bring it on.” Said Noel, grinning. His older brother Liam burst out laughing loudly.
“Hey, you! You little twerp! I almost killed you then.” Said Mick, looking really angry, which made the others laugh.
“Oh, so you did. That was absolutely foolish of me Sir, and I cannot explain my actions. I am eternally sorry.” Replied Noel, bowing slightly before his father, to a chorus of laughter from his gran, his mum and siblings.
“No, stop. That’s too sarcastic right Noel. Tone it down right. Start again,” said Mick.
“Go on then,” said Noel, smiling at his elder brother Liam.
“I say, young man, I almost ran you over there.”
“You didn’t. You can’t drive dad!”
“Aw, he’s spoiling it,” Mick looked at Rachel and she laughed out loud at his mard expression.
“Sorry dad. Right, so, take two.”
“Go on then,””
“I am so very sorry about that, it was my fault entirely. Please don’t tell my parents though or I’ll tell them that you touched my willy.”
The whole family were in fits of laughter at Noel’s unexpected ad-lib. It took a minute or so for everybody to settle down. Eventually, Mick spoke. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea Noel, you absolute loon!”
“No, dad, right, what if our Noel hadn’t done nowt wrong though?” asked Britney, secretly gutted that she hadn’t taken part, now that she had been reminded of how funny and silly these kind of family conversations could be.
“Doesn’t matter!” said Mick, holding his palms open and shaking his head. “If he’s right, or wrong, you just say sorry, and that’s it. Try me right, so say I’m you, and you be the car driver.”
“Okay dad,” said Noel. “Hoi, you there. What on earth were you thinking you muppet. Do you have a mental problem or something? You look like you do, you look like a window licker!” said Noel, pretending to be angry whilst trying not to laugh as his family chuckled along.
“You are quite right Sir, I am the one who was in the wrong, and I’m so, so sorry.” Mick looked down at his feet, clasped his hands by his groin and looked as apologetic and angelic as he possibly could.
“You sound more sarcastic than him Mick!” squealed Rachel as the kids mocked their dad.
“You will never be forgiven!” shouted Maureen, cackling hysterically at Mick’s sad and embarrassed face.
“And the Oscar goes to…” shouted Britney, encouraging more laughter from everybody.
Outside, Mick heard the unmistakable sound of a car door slamming shut. He glanced out of the window and saw the weird guy from across the road march away from his car and into his house. He slammed the house door too. Mick looked back at his family who were still making jokes about him, his acting skills and his general uselessness.
“Right, let’s leave it there, I don’t want to bore you. All I’m saying is, best behaviour, don’t be giving anyone any shit. If you do, we’ll be straight back on the caravan site. Any problems, just come and talk directly to me or mum, right?”
“Yeah, don’t worry mum and dad,” said Liam. “We’ll be good as gold.”
“And no holes in the walls!” said Rachel. “Under any circumstances.”
“Your mate’s back.” Said Mick, pointing his thumb out of the window towards the house opposite. Rachel rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
“No seriously, that guy who lives over the road is just waiting for one chance, and he’ll report us.” Rachel spoke in a more sobering voice, after seeing the dreaded man again.
“Honestly love? How do you know?” asked Maureen, visibly troubled by this solemn announcement.
“I’ll tell you over a fag mum, come on, back door.”
“Right, cheers kids, end of meeting,” Mick clapped his hands together. “All the rules are in this book so give it a read. Oh, and remember, if you use the last of the toilet roll, tell me or your mum. I hate finding out that there’s none left when I’m halfway through a dump.”
Chapter Nine
Graham had arrived home a couple of minutes after leaving his wife by the side of the road. He was still in a fury when he reversed the white Range Rover Evoque onto his drive and slammed the car door shut. He went straight into his house, slamming his front door shut also. Inside, he headed upstairs, where he turned on the shower, and began quickly undressing. He literally could not wait to be out of the clothes that he could still smell that awful police station on.
Graham spent ten minutes in the shower, and still didn’t feel that he had thoroughly washed the odour of urine, industrial strength disinfectant and poor people off himself. He had been given a caution by the police Sergeant, a different officer than the one who had dealt with him on his arrival. Rather than exacerbate matters there and then, he quietly accepted the police caution, knowing full well that he would be appealing this gross injustice at the first possible opportunity.
The opportunity came as soon as he had dried and dressed. He turned his computer on in his home office, before going downstairs to make a cup of earl grey. He realised that he felt very hungry all of a sudden, and cursed Suzanne for not being there to make him something. With his cup in his hand, and a head full of incensed ideas of what should be contained in his letter, he returned upstairs to the office, and began typing furiously on his keyboard.
As Graham vented his anger at the “inadequate judgement” of the officers, the “simply disgusting conditions within the cell facility,” the “infantile and despicable behaviour of the Sergeant,” and had finally concluded that “the police force requires a top down reorganisation with immediate effect if any faith is to be restored,” he realised that he didn’t feel half as satisfied as he had expected that he would, when he began writing his letter to the Chief Constable, who he had met once or twice at various functions. He began reading through it again, looking for opportunities to amplify his points. Eventually, he was satisfied and pressed the printer icon on the screen. A few seconds later, he scribbled his signature at the bottom, and put his letter into an envelope, hand writing the address, and marking it for the personal attention of the Chief Constable.
After going downstairs and drinking a generous portion of his 18 year old single malt whisky, Graham went back upstairs and got into bed, to catch up on his sleep after that appalling night in the police cell, Graham wondered how long it had been since he’d been forced to lose his temper and made Suzanne get out of the car. He looked at his watch, and remembered that it was about 10.20 when the police had finally let him go home. It had been almost an hour and half since he’d arrived home, and he began to wonder why Suzanne was taking such a long time to get home, figuring that it was only a fifteen or twenty minute walk. Half an hour at the very most.
“Ungrateful little scrubber.” He muttered as he turned his phone off and put his eye mask over his face, before drifting peacefully into a deep, satisfying sleep.
*****
Rachel and Maureen were having a good old natter in the back garden when they heard something rattling the back fence.
“There’s bloody thousands of cats around here as well, they’d better not shit on my lawn! There’s nowt worse than breaking the skin of a cat shit with the lawn-mower,” said Rachel. “Do you want another brew mum?”
“Rachel. Look!” said Maureen as her daughter stood to go inside and put the kettle on. Maureen was watching a young woman’s head appear, she was climbing over the six foot high fence. Rachel turned around and saw Suzanne, struggling to get over the fence, looking wild, feral, her eyes were wide with fear, and she looked like she was crying.
“Suzanne!” she said as she ran across the grass. “What’s wrong love?”
Suzanne fell into a bush, the weight and momentum of her legs following through after she had managed to get them over the top of the fence caused her to lose balance. She scrambled up out of the bush, feeling relieved to be in the relative safety of her new neighbours g
arden.
“What’s going on? Are you alright love?” Rachel was visibly concerned by this extraordinary situation. Suzanne was sobbing uncontrollably and held her arms out for a hug. As Rachel got closer, she could see that Suzanne had a wound on her face, and was shaking uncontrollably. She gave her neighbour a hug and whispered “ssshhh,” into her ear, quietly trying to reassure her.
Britney had appeared at the back door. She looked at the woman, and then at her gran.
“Okay, that’s random,” she said, searching her gran’s face for clues as to what on earth was happening. Maureen looked back, with an equally confused expression.
“Daaad!” shouted Britney, “it’s all getting a bit weird in the garden. Mum’s going all lesbian with a zombie.”
“Shut up Britney!” shouted Rachel. “Are you alright love? What’s happened?” She kept repeating, but Suzanne was just clinging onto her, crying, and making a moaning noise. There was snot everywhere.
“Is everything alright?” asked Maureen, who was completely baffled by the situation. Mick appeared in the door way and added his own look of astonishment.
“Come on Suzanne, calm down love. What’s happened?” said Rachel, starting to feel the grip on her back loosen slightly.
“Help me!” pleaded Suzanne, just.
“Come on love, come inside. Let’s look at that face. What’s happened? Have you been in an accident?” Rachel started walking Suzanne towards the house. By now all of the children were stood in the door way, confused and bemused by the unfolding drama in their new back garden.
“Move out of the way guys, please,” ordered Rachel as she approached her family, clutching the hysterical woman.
“It’s that woman from over the road.” Mick looked thoroughly pissed off as he realised who the woman was.
“MOVE!” shouted Rachel at her family as they stayed put, gawping and blocking a way into the house. Everybody parted and a pathway into the house appeared. Rachel pulled her new neighbour through the small crowd of onlookers and took her inside. “Do you want a cup of tea, Suzanne? Have a brew love, it’ll settle you down.”
Neighbours From Hell : DCI Miller 2: The gripping Manchester thriller with a killer twist Page 5