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Authors: Beth Miller

BOOK: The Good Neighbour
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But Abe and Minette had not sat through four sessions of Brighton’s NCT classes without learning that formula was a synonym for neglect. Though Minette found breastfeeding difficult, and so painful that she cried at most feeds, she was determined to persevere. After a week, Abe told Élise that her intervention wasn’t helpful, and she spent the rest of the stay in a sulky silence. It was a huge relief when she went home. Abe’s mum Julie then stayed for a week and was brilliant.

Julie was delighted by Minette’s French heritage, would exclaim over quite simple recipes that Minette had learned as a child. Today she made
salmon en croute
and a
tarte tatin
, knowing Julie would love them, but her usual pleasure in cooking seemed to have deserted her. She could hear Abe playing with Tilly in the living room. Abe was a good man, a great dad, so why was she mucking about? The joie de vivre of ‘we’ll all be dead in a hundred years’ had left her. Now she just felt heavy. Guilty. She was
having an affair
. She was
cheating on her partner
. She was
the other woman
. The phrases, such awful clichés that they ought to have lost their meaning, felt slap-in-the-face shocking now they were applied to herself. She couldn’t stand the thought of Abe finding out. It had been way too close a call that last time they made love. The only time, because the whole thing unnerved her so much that she had brusquely brushed Liam off since. He’d dropped round a couple of times when Abe was at work, but she’d not let him in. The second time he’d said plaintively, ‘We’re both at home during the day, after all. Can’t we be friends?’

‘I can’t have such good-looking friends,’ Minette said, looking nervously at the street behind him.

‘Ah, you flatterer. Can’t I just come in for five minutes? A tiny chat?’

It was lucky he didn’t know just how much willpower it took to say no. But she said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ using an image of Josie and Abe walking by to strengthen her resolve, and shut the door quickly.

Their last proper encounter – the
only
one, she kept telling herself, as if Abe was listening to her thoughts – was now nine days ago, not that she was keeping notes or anything. If it was all there was going to be – and it would be, OK, Abe? – then it was a pretty amazing one.

‘I’m having a crappy day, how about you?’ Liam had said.

‘Tilly’s asleep. Would you like to come inside?’ she’d replied.

‘Fuck, yeah,’ he whispered, and followed her into the house. He looked incredulous as she pushed him onto the Heal’s sofa and stripped off her clothes. She couldn’t quite believe it of herself, now. He was clearly wondering what the hell had happened to the demure girl of a few days earlier, who wouldn’t let him put his hand under her top. But it was only later, as they lay in a deliciously sweaty naked embrace on the living room floor that he said, ‘Wow, that was a slightly better reception than I was expecting.’

‘Why’s that, neighbour?’ She felt him smile against her shoulder at their private joke.

‘You seemed kind of unsure last time.’

‘Yes, well, we’ll all be dead in a hundred years.’

‘What does that mean?’ He propped himself up on an elbow to look at her properly, and she gazed back at him. God, he was impossibly lovely. His hair mussed, his broad naked shoulders, that steel pipe … thinking about it now, Minette had to put down the rolling pin for a moment and take a couple of calming breaths.

‘It means,’ Minette said, trying on the bravado she’d admired in Cath, ‘I’m tired of always being sensible.’

‘I seem to have lucked into a marvellous new change in attitude, then.’

Minette smiled, and ran her fingers along his thigh. ‘Maybe we’re both lucky.’

When the monitor crackled into life with a wail, they were in the middle of a second act. ‘Don’t stop,’ Minette breathed, ‘she’ll be all right for five minutes.’ It was even less than that before they were both calling out more loudly than before and clinging to each other.

‘Jesus,’ Liam said, as Minette rolled off him. ‘You’d think that a crying baby would put me off my stroke.’

‘It didn’t seem to,’ Minette purred, greatly enjoying her new persona.

‘Fairly galvanised me, I’d say.’

Minette threw on some clothes and ran up to rescue Tilly. She brought her downstairs to the kitchen, calling out, ‘Come through when you’re dressed.’

Liam did so, quickly, and leaned against the fridge. She felt him watching her while she moved around, making up the bottle, Tilly on her hip.

‘You are fucking gorgeous, you know that?’ he said.


Pas devant l’enfant!

‘She can’t understand me yet.’

‘She will soon, we’ll have to start being careful.’

Liam sat at the table. ‘Well until then, I’m going to say what I think. And what I think is, fucking hell, lady, you are one hot piece of ass.’

‘You’ve gone all American,’ Minette said.

‘I’ve caught it off Cath next door, with her “neighbourhoods” and “jumping snakes”. I just had to change nationality to express the incredibleness of that last shag.’

‘God, I’m blushing.’

‘I love it that someone who screws like you blushes so easily.’

‘It was awesome,’ Minette mumbled, sitting down to give Tilly her bottle.

There was a noise at the front door, followed by the unmistakeable sound of a key turning in the lock.

‘Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,’ Minette whispered.

‘Hi honey, I’m home!’ Abe called from the hall.

Minette and Liam stared in horror at each other, and moments later, Abe, whistling, walked into the kitchen. ‘Oh. Hello, Liam,’ he said flatly. Abe hadn’t been keen on him, not since Liam had been snitty about Cath’s charity appeal. Minette’s heart thumped so loudly she was sure Abe could hear it. The two men shook hands, watching each other warily. Minette wondered if Liam had washed his hands since … oh god. She didn’t dare look at him.

‘I just popped round for a cuppa,’ Liam explained to Abe, his voice at a higher pitch than normal. ‘I wanted to ask if your brother, is it? The teacher? Would mind having a chat some time? About what I can expect on my course?’

‘Luckily, you’re back early,’ Minette said, wondering if she sounded as mad as Liam.

‘Yeah, there was a gas leak in the street outside the Bureau,’ Abe said. ‘Us and the whole row of shops have had to close for the day.’

‘What does it mean, a gas leak? Is it dangerous?’

‘I dunno. They’ve got British Gas out. So, where’s this tea then, Dougie?’

‘Oh, I haven’t even put the kettle on yet. I’ve been doing Tilly’s bottle. Liam only just got here a few minutes before you, Abe.’

Gradually Minette’s heartrate returned to less critical levels. Liam choked down his tea, thanked Abe for the email address, did a show of good-lord-is-that-the-time and left, managing one raised-eyebrow glance at Minette.

Yes, way too close for comfort. Remembering it now made her feel sick.

She put the
tarte
in the oven and started rolling out more pastry. As long as she was sensible, and didn’t meet Liam at her house any more – or anywhere! she slapped herself down – there was no reason why Abe would find out. Minette was uneasy, though, and not just because of almost being caught. It had been a bit weird the other night, when Abe went to help Cath move Davey’s bed downstairs. She was grateful to him for doing such a nice, normal, neighbourly thing like that. It seemed to somehow counterbalance her own less-wholesome neighbourly relationships. When he came back, she handed him a beer, and he raised it to her in toast.

‘Cheers, Dougie.’ He flopped onto the sofa.

‘Was it very heavy?’ Minette asked, sitting next to him.

‘Weighed a ton, yeah, but that bloke Liam was there as well.’

‘He was?’ Shit, what was Cath playing at?

‘Yeah. He asked after you.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘The way he said it. All concerned. Think he fancies you.’

‘Don’t be daft!’ She took a big gulp of wine.

‘Thought you’d be flattered, good-looking lad like that.’

‘Mmm. Anyway, is Davey’s room all finished?’

‘Yeah, we shifted all the furniture. I’m stronger than that friend of yours, even if he’s taller. He kept having to stop for a rest.’

Minette felt embarrassed for Abe, and hoped he hadn’t made a show of himself in front of Liam. ‘Well, thanks for doing it, hon. I was thinking of making
salmon en croute
for your parents, do you think they’ll like it?’

‘Course they will. Aren’t we cute little stereotypes?’ Abe said. ‘You doing the cooking, me doing the macho lifting.’

Now, as she placed the pastry carefully over the salmon, Minette worried about just how much she’d revealed to Cath. What had possessed Cath to get Liam round at the same time as Abe? Was she trustworthy? She was friendly with Josie, after all. What if she … Slow down, Minette told herself. Probably Liam was simply the only other neighbour who was available at the time. Even if, worst case scenario, Cath
did
tell, which Minette couldn’t picture her doing, Minette could say truthfully that it was just the once. A stupid indiscretion, a one-time crazy moment that would never be repeated. Abe was not a black-and-white sort of person. Though he would be terribly hurt, and disappointed in her, he understood that people made mistakes. That’s why he was so good at his job. A lot of the people he advised had made dreadful mistakes, but he never judged them.

The doorbell rang – Julie and Roy were always punctual – and Minette put on her hostess smile. She was quickly enveloped in Julie’s warm embrace. Roy kissed her and then commandeered Tilly, carrying her into the kitchen and making her laugh by pretending to steal her nose. Soon they were having lunch, glasses of wine in front of them. Tilly sat up proudly at the table, with her own portion of flaked salmon, beaming at her grandparents, who beamed delightedly back. Minette looked round at all the beloved faces and thought, OK, I can do this. I can have this as my whole life and it will be fine. I don’t need anything else. She pushed away an image of Liam kissing her, and drank down half her wine.

‘This is sensational,’ Julie said. ‘You’re better than Nigella.’

‘And even more glamorous,’ Roy said, raising his glass to her.

Minette smiled at them. ‘It’s a very simple recipe.’

‘You’re too modest. Isn’t she Abe?’ Julie said.

‘She is, and that’s why I love her,’ Abe said.

Minette was astonished to feel a tear trickle down her face. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, and ran out, aware that everyone was looking at her with concern. She locked herself in the bathroom, took some deep breaths, and washed her face. There hasn’t been a single day, she said to herself, not a single day in which she felt normal since Tilly was born. It wasn’t Tilly’s fault, not even a tiny bit, but since having her Minette’s life had gone off-kilter.

She paused in the hall outside the kitchen, not exactly listening but sort of listening.

‘Those awful bloody people, excuse my language, Tilly,’ Roy said.

‘They’ve been gone nearly two months, though,’ Abe said.

‘It takes a long time to get over something like that,’ Roy said firmly. ‘I think Minette has been traumatised by their behaviour.’

The Miltons.

‘She does look rather drawn and anxious. Is everything all right, Abe?’ Julie said. ‘Between you?’

‘Well …’ Abe said. Oh Jesus. Minette was torn between barging in to prevent Abe from speaking, and wanting to know what he would say. Might he tell them he suspected her of having an affair? Or that they hadn’t had sex for nearly a year? No, no one in the history of the world would ever tell their parents that.

Abe said, ‘Far as I know, everything is completely fine.’ Minette let out her breath. ‘She’s decided not to go back to work, which I support as she says it’s the right thing for her and Tilly. And also,’ Abe went on, ‘she’s started training for a triathlon.’ Minette was astonished to hear the pride in his voice; so far his only comments had been sarky ones about Ladies Who Run in their Lovely Lycra. And earlier that week, when she’d gone for a morning run, he’d complained that she would make him late for work, and they’d argued in the front garden like people off
EastEnders
.

She crept back up the stairs and did an elaborate play of stomping down them loudly. When she went in, Abe was telling Roy, slightly stiltedly, about a viniculture evening course he was going to take.

‘You all right, love?’ Julie asked her quietly, as Minette slipped back into her seat.

‘Yes thanks. I was just thinking about how lovely things are with the new neighbours, compared to the Miltons, and I felt a bit upset for a silly moment.’ Minette was pleased with the way she’d managed to use this explanation.

‘Yes, I thought it might be that,’ Julie said, relieved.

Minette busied herself with her food, now cold.

‘This triathlon sounds like a terrific thing to do,’ Julie went on. ‘Can we sponsor you?’

Julie and Roy each pledged £250, and Minette’s eyes filled up again.

Roy, discreetly changing the subject away from Minette, said to Abe, ‘I see you’ve displayed my picture.’ He pointed to the noticeboard, to the lovely photo of Tilly he’d taken last time they visited.

‘You’re going to need a bigger board,’ Julie said, ‘Tilly’s not a year yet and it’s almost full.’

‘We’re putting some of Dad’s best ones into frames, we just haven’t got round to it yet,’ Abe said.

Minette remembered she still hadn’t cleaned the frames, which she’d stacked in the under-stairs cupboard. She avoided Abe’s eye.

‘Where’s that photo of you two I’ve always loved, from when you went to France to see your mother, Minette?’

‘The one where I’m wearing the green dress? It’s still there somewhere, probably covered over.’

‘It’s important to have some markers of the time before you were parents!’ Julie said, with a meaningful glance at Abe. She went over to the board and tried to find it. ‘No, it’s not here.’

‘I didn’t take it down. Abe, did you?’

‘Maybe,’ he said vaguely, trying to put one last spoonful of salmon into Tilly’s mouth. ‘I’ll look later.’

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