The New Neighbours (20 page)

Ben was already talking to Jill Hammond as she poured him a pint, and so Mad gathered up Cirelle and Charlie and went across to the picnic table.

“Hi,” she said, “we've come to introduce ourselves properly.” She smiled at David Redwood. “We've met, haven't we? You live next door in number eight.”

David half got up. “Indeed we have,” he said. “You remember my wife, Shirley?”

Shirley smiled up at the girls and fluttered her fingers in greeting. “Welcome to the Circle,” she said. She looked at Cirelle. “I know I met you and your father the day you arrived. You help at the day centre, don't you?” she asked. “At St Joe's?”

Cirelle smiled back shyly. “Yes, that's right.”

“Yes, I remember now, when I first met you there you said you were coming to live in the area, but I hadn't realised you were one of the students moving in next to us.” She waved a hand towards Sheila and Gerald. “You remember your neighbours on the other side,” she said. “Gerald and Sheila Colby, and this is Mary Jarvis from number five. She helps at St Joe's too, so you'll soon get to know her.”

“And you haven't met Charlie Murphy,” Mad said. “She's in her final year, like Ben, who's over there.” She waved vaguely in the direction of the bar where Ben was standing talking to Anthony Hammond.

The Colbys nodded at the girls and murmured something about looking forward to getting to know them better, and Mary Jarvis reached across and shook hands with all of them.

“Do go and help yourselves to some food,” Sheila suggested. “There's still plenty on the barbecue and the salads are over there on the table.”

Taking this as their dismissal, the girls moved away. “Well, that's done,” said Mad, relieved. She had promised her father that she would introduce them all properly to her immediate neighbours as soon as she could and now it had been done she could go on round and meet the rest of the Circle.

“Let's get some food,” Charlie said. “I'm starving.” They crossed to the barbecue, where Mike and Steve having seen the students arrive, had just put on some more chops and sausages.

“There's plenty here,” Steve called as they approached, and Mike looked up to see who was coming.

He had heard of a coup de foudre, but had never believed in it. Now as he looked up and saw Charlotte Murphy coming towards him, it happened to him. Brash, confident, suave Mike Callow was struck, as if by lightning, at the sight of a young girl walking towards him. She was tall and slim and carried herself easily. Her long fair hair hung down on either side of her face like a curtain, and her wide grey eyes were amused as she glanced across at Debbie and the younger children playing in the sandpit. As she reached the barbecue she smiled at the two men who were cooking, and Mike felt as if he had been pole-axed.

“What can we get you?” Steve Hooper was asking. “Chop? Sausage? Spare rib? All three?”

“All three please,” Mad answered, and Cirelle said the same.

“What about you?” Mike spoke to Charlie in a voice he hardly recognised as his own. “What would you like? I'm afraid I don't know your name.”

Charlie directed her smile straight at him and said cheerfully, “It's Charlie, and I'll have whatever's going please.” It was clear she had no idea of the effect she was having on him, and for that at least Mike was grateful.

He drew in a deep breath and scooped up a couple of sausages, a chop and a piece of spare rib. “That do to be going on with?” he asked. “Fine,” Charlie said. “Thanks.” She turned away, moving towardsthe table where all the salads were laid out. Mike forced himself to turn his attention to the other two girls.

Steve was dishing out sausages, chops and ribs, saying as he didso, “Nice to meet you girls, I'm Steve Hooper, I live at number two, next to Mrs Peters, and this reprobate,” he waved a barbecuing fork towards Mike, “is Mike Callow, of number ten. Welcome to Dartmouth Circle.” Dean carried his drink over to where Chantal was sitting with her sister and Isabelle on the grass outside the Havens' house.

“Hi, Chantal,” he said, dropping down beside them, “how's it going?” Chantal greeted him with a smile, pleased that he had remembered her name and come over to speak to her. It must be clear to Annabel that she already knew the occupants of number seven. She had, very carefully, not mentioned her visit earlier in the week, so that she could casually acknowledge the students when she saw them.

“Hi, Dean,” she replied, and then not knowing quite what to say, said rather grudgingly, “This is my sister, Annabel and this is Isabelle. She's the Hammonds' au pair.” Even as she spoke, Chantal's eyes drifted away, skimming the Circle to see if the tall guy, Mad's boyfriend, was with them. As she couldn't see him, she returned her attention to Dean, who had begun to talk to Annabel.

“You at the college?” he asked. Annabel shook her head. “No.”

“Going to college somewhere else?”

“Next year. Maybe.”

Pretty monosyllabic, thought Dean, not sparkly like her sister, so he gave up. He took a pull at his beer and then got to his feet. “Think I'll get some food,” he said.

“I'll come with you,” said Chantal, jumping up, and together they wandered over to the barbecue.

“Not very chatty, your sister,” Dean remarked.

“No, like, she's been in funny mood lately,” said Chantal. “Come on, I want to meet the others in your house.”

Dean allowed himself to be introduced to Steve and Mike, collectedhimself some food and followed by Chantal, went to join the girls who were sitting on the grass near Mrs Peters.

“Here's another of us,” cried Mad cheerfully as he flopped down beside them. “Dean, this is Madge, whose birthday party this is.”

“Hi, happy birthday. Great party.”

“I'm glad you could come,” Madge replied.

“Hi,” Chantal said to the girls. Her eyes rested on Mad. “We met the other night, didn't we? I'm Chantal, from number four.”

“Hi, yes, I remember, this is Charlie Murphy and Cirelle Thomas.”

Mad waved a hand at the others.

“I though there were five of you,” Chantal said innocently, still hoping the hunky Dan would put in an appearance.

“Yes, Ben's over there.” It was Charlie who answered, nodding in the direction of the bar where Ben still stood, pint in hand, chatting now to Jill Hammond.

Angela Haven went over to the bar for another glass of wine. She wasn't driving anywhere today and decided an extra glass wouldn't hurt and might give her some dutch courage. As she waited for Anthony to open a new bottle she looked across at Annabel, still sitting on the grass with Isabelle.

She looks exhausted, thought Angela, not at all herself. There's something wrong, I know it.

Angela had been worrying about her elder daughter for some time now. She had become more withdrawn and evasive than ever. She did whatever was asked of her about the house, but she spoke only when spoken to, and disappeared up to her room as soon as supper was over, presumably to work. She never lingered over another cup of coffee after supper as she used to, or talked about her day, the way Chantal prattled on. She appeared to be doing her schoolwork properly now, after the row there had been about her progress and attitude during the early part of the summer term, but she no longer seemed friendly with Avril. They were certainly not combining on a history project any more, and neither visited the other at home. Annabel seemed to have no friends, she had stopped going out and had no visitors.

“I'm fine, Mum,” she had said, when Angela had tried to talk to her.

“There's a lot of work to catch up on. I'm a bit tired, that's all.”

She had never told them about Scott, even when they were raging at her about her having done no real work for weeks. She had just shrugged and refused to say where she had been and what she had been doing.

Annabel sat beside Isabelle watching the party. Chantal seemed determined to make herself the centre of attention, sitting with the students, making extravagant gestures, laughing loudly and flashing her darkly encircled eyes. Then, Oliver Hooper, who had been sitting with his sister and the Callow boys, suddenly got up and wandered over to where Chantal was holding court. He flung himself down by Chantal and grinned at her.

“Hi,” he said to the group at large. “Hi, Chantal,” he said. “Get you another drink?”

Chantal stopped in mid-flow, glowered at him. “No,” she snapped, and turned her back on him.

Oliver laughed and said, “Come on, Chantal, don't be like that. We had good fun together at the New Year's party.”

“No, we didn't,” she replied between her teeth, “and I hope I neversee you again.”

“Oh, I'm afraid you will,” Oliver said lazily pulling at the grass. “Me and Em are going to live at Dad's now. My mum's got married again so we're living here.” He got to his feet. “See you around.” He grinned down at her, pleased with the way he had delivered his awful news, ignoring Chantal's retort, “I'm not surprised she doesn't want you to live with her, no one would.” He wandered off as if he hadn't heard, but he stored the remark in his memory with revenge in mind. He knew that Chantal was afraid of him, and he enjoyed the knowledge.

“Oh no,” muttered Chantal.

“Problem?” asked Mad casually.

“No,” Chantal shook her head. “That's Oliver Hooper. His dad's doing the cooking? He lives at number two. Him and Em, his sister, used to live with their mum, now they're coming to live here.”

“Is that bad?” asked Cirelle.

“Yeah, he's a real creep. Em's OK, she's over there,” Chantal pointed,

“but I loathe him.”

At that moment, Dan emerged from the house and having collected a beer, wandered over to join them. He flopped down on the grass beside Mad, but his eyes ran appreciatively over Chantal and he grinned at her. “Hi,” he said, “didn't we meet the other night?”

Trying to match his casual tone, Chantal said, “Yeah, I'm Chantal, from number four.” She got to her feet to give him the benefit of her long legs and mini skirt, and said, “I'm going to get another drink, can I get one for anyone?”

No one else wanted one, and Chantal didn't either, but she'd made the move now, so she went across to the bar and asked Anthony for another coke. Jill Hammond was talking to the only other student that Chantal hadn't yet met, so she joined them with her refilled glass.

“Hello, Chantal.” Jill smiled at her. “Have you met Ben yet? He's in the student house.” She turned to the tall man next to her, “Ben, this is Chantal Haven.”

Ben said hello, and then continued with what he'd been saying before she'd joined them. “So I'll be finished this summer and then out looking for a job.”

As he went on talking Chantal was able to study him. She approved of his dark good looks, his thick hair caught into its ponytail, but he was a bit old, and he was taking no interest in her. Nor was Jill, so after a moment or two she moved away and went back to the student group in the garden.

Mike Callow went over to her. “I'm taking my lot swimming after this, Chantal. Want to come too?”

“Is Oliver coming?” Chantal asked, seeing him sitting with Emma and the Callow boys.

“I don't know,” Mike replied, “I think Emma is, but I don't know about Oliver.” He looked at her speculatively. “Does it matter?”

“No, of course not.” Chantal replied quickly, feeling her face redden. “Thanks anyway, but I've got some homework to do,” and she turned away.

Mike watched her go back to the student group. He had seen the colour flood her face and was sorry for her. He hadn't realised how much the fiasco at the New Year's Eve party had affected her. He'd assumed she would shrug it off and it was best forgotten, but now he wondered if he ought to have told Angela and Steve what their children had been up to. It was too late now, of course, but he decided to keep an eye on young Oliver himself, since he was now living in the Circle on a permanent basis. He looked across at where Peter and Oliver were sitting, laughing together and wished, not for the first time, that they weren't such good friends. There was something unpleasant about Oliver, and he didn't want him around Peter too much.

Just then, Andrew called for attention. Everyone gathered round and Sheila brought out Madge's cake. Andrew proposed a toast and they drank her health and sang happy birthday, while she sat beaming, among them.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “You've made my birthday a very special day. I think I'm a very lucky person to be surrounded by such good friends and neighbours. I'm going back inside now, but do go on enjoying yourselves. I shall be watching you from my window.”

“As usual…” commented Mike Callow in a loud aside, and everyone laughed as Madge agreed. “As usual, Mike Callow. So behave yourself!” Soon after she'd gone in, however, people did begin to drift away. Mike took the promised swimming party and Isabelle took over the care of the younger children again as the Forresters, Hammonds and Hoopers began to clear up. Annabel disappeared indoors, but Chantal sat around with the students as they finished their drinks.

“We're going to the Dutch this evening,” Dean said to her. “Want to come?”

“The Dutch?”

“Flying Dutchman. You know, in Francis Street?”

“Yes, I know it,” Chantal agreed, though she'd never been inside it.

“What time?”

“ 'Bout half seven to eight I suppose. Shall I pick you up?”

“No,” Chantal tried to sound casual. She knew there was no way her mother would let her go to the pub with a crowd of students so much older than her, but she would get round that problem in her own way. “No, don't worry, I'll see you there.”

Jill and Anthony cleared the last of the bottles away and Jill stowed them in the boot of her car to take to the bottle bank in the morning. It had been a good party, she thought, as she slammed the boot shut, andas far as she could tell it had achieved its aims.