Behind a Closed Door (The Estate, Book 2) (9 page)

Kelly stopped sharply before she let slip about the parcel. She turned away to look out of the window again.

The landscape passed by in a blur. Kelly sensed that Jay wanted to carry on talking, but she wouldn’t let him. She couldn’t trust him – couldn’t trust any of Scott’s friends. And if she couldn’t trust Jay, why should she try to make him feel better?

As they left Scott further and further behind, Kelly knew now that she would have to dig deeper to find the strength to rely on herself and herself only – regardless of whether she wanted to or not.

Before she made her next visit to Kelly, Josie dropped into Mitchell Academy to fetch two prospectuses. She’d been pondering whether to get a qualification in counselling for some time now. It could possibly help her with her work but, more importantly, it might make her find out more about herself. However, there was one thing stopping her – or rather, one person. Stewart – Josie knew he’d hardly be pleased with the prospect of his wife being away from home for another night a week, even if it was only for two hours at a time. When he was working on the late shift, most nights he would ring to see if she was at home. It made her feel like a prisoner on a tag clocking on with her probationer.

No, Josie decided there and then that she was going to do this. She’d just have to think of something to throw Stewart off the scent.

Ten minutes later, she knocked on Kelly’s front door. When she answered, Josie realised in dismay that Kelly had made more of an effort than she had. Fully made up, she wore dark jeans and a fashionable red sweatshirt. Consciously, Josie closed her coat to hide the fact that, to Kelly, with her extensive and stylish wardrobe, she would look like she only had a few outfits to her name.

‘You must be psychic,’ said Kelly, strangely glad to see Josie. ‘I was about to flick the kettle on.’

Once upstairs, Josie’s eyes swept over the living room, noticing that it was as tidy as it had been on her last visit. Emily lay on the settee, her feet waving in the air, her chin resting in her hands.

‘Hello, Emily, what’s Dora the Explorer up to today?’

Emily turned her head, her eyes opening widely. ‘You know who Dora the Explorer is?’

‘Of course I do! She’s a very clever girl.’

‘I like the penguins best.’

Josie was stumped at the mention of penguins. She turned as she heard Kelly behind her.

‘I’ve brought you a prospectus from Mitchell Academy. I thought you might like to see what’s available for you to try out.’

Kelly pushed Emily’s legs along the settee and sat down. Emily put her feet into her mum’s lap as Kelly flicked through the booklet.

‘I’m thinking of enrolling on a counselling course,’ said Josie, trying to start the conversation up again.

Kelly looked up. ‘I thought counselling was part of your job?’

‘I suppose it is,’ said Josie. ‘But I’d also like to be qualified to do it properly. And, although no two cases are the same, who’s to say there isn’t a better way to deal with a situation?’

‘I think you’re good at your job. You have a way about you. Scott warned me off people like you – people in authority.’

Josie smiled: praise indeed.

‘Josie, will you read me a story before you go?’ Emily came towards her with a book.

‘Manners, young lady.’ Kelly tapped her daughter’s thigh lightly. ‘It’s rude to interrupt. Wait until we’ve finished talking, please.’

A knock at the front door interrupted their conversation for a second time. Emily rushed to her feet but Kelly pulled her back.

‘What did I tell you about answering the door?’ she scolded. ‘That’s always Mummy’s job.’

An awkward silence descended as Jay followed Kelly into the living room.

‘Jay!’ shouted Emily.

‘Hey there, maggot.’ Jay picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Emily started to squeal and giggle.

Ill at ease, Josie quickly got to her feet. She wondered why he was calling, although she wouldn’t ask. Tenants were allowed visitors. It wasn’t as if she had – or would even want – control over who came and went.

‘Hello, Jay,’ she said. ‘How’s your mother?’

Jay nodded. ‘She’s okay, ta.’

Josie spotted the flowers Kelly was holding.

‘These are from Scott,’ Kelly said. ‘There’s nothing sinister going on. It’s my birthday tomorrow.’

 ‘Happy birthday,’ Josie offered, with a faint smile. ‘Right, I’ll be on my way. I was nearly finished anyway. One more visit in another four weeks and that’ll be me done officially. It’s obvious you’re doing okay.’

Kelly sighed. What the hell would Josie think of her now? She must wonder if she associated with every villain on the estate. And it had been fun, she realised, talking to someone different for a change, even if she was a housing officer and therefore known as the anti-Christ.

Josie couldn’t contain herself when they were alone, though. ‘Does he come round often?’ she said, as Kelly opened the front door to let her out.

Kelly shrugged a shoulder slightly. ‘He’s been a few times since Scott was sent down. Why?’

‘Be careful, hmm? I really like Jay, but maybe you or I don’t know what he’s really capable of.’

‘Like Scott, you mean.’

‘No,’ Josie faltered. ‘I –’

 ‘Keep your nose out of my business.’ Kelly’s eyes held a look of fury. ‘You can’t run my life for me – and don’t bother calling again if you think you can.’

She closed the door. By the time she’d climbed the stairs again, her earlier thoughts about a friendship forming had been dismissed. It was Josie’s job to see that she was settled. Maybe that was all she’d ever intended. Kelly now felt foolish thinking anything else.

Jay took one look at her face and thought better about mentioning his bad timing. Kelly marched past him into the kitchen, filled both rooms with the sound of water gushing out of the tap at full force, then switched on the kettle.

‘It’s not you that I’m mad with,’ she shouted through to him. ‘It’s the situation I’m in.’

‘Josie’s all right,’ said Jay.

Kelly sighed as she emerged in the doorway with a turquoise patterned vase for the flowers. ‘I know. That’s what I can’t get my head around. She’s a housing officer – the spawn of the devil, according to Scott.’

‘Most people are the spawn of the devil according to Scott.’

‘She seems different, though. Well, at least I thought she was.’

‘I think she’s really fair.’ Jay casually flicked open the cover of the pink book on the table. Emily’s eyes left the television long enough to register the information and he put it down quickly. ‘I’ve never had a problem with her and I’ve known her for years,’ he added. ‘And she’s someone you can trust not to spread your business. Mitchell’s a great estate for rumour spreading. I should know, being a Kirkwell.’

 Yes, thought Kelly, you being a Kirkwell is the reason why Josie wants to know my business in the first place!

Josie couldn’t get Kelly’s outburst out of her mind as she walked down the pavement towards Amy’s flat. Sometimes she wished she didn’t care so much, then she wouldn’t get it in the neck when she interfered. Kelly was right: it was none of her business if Jay called round to see her every day – but that didn’t stop her from feeling cynical about it.

She knocked on Amy’s door but there was no answer. Josie checked her watch: she was ten minutes early. She bent down to check the lock. The key was still there on the other side of the door, meaning that Amy had to be in. Josie knocked again twice, waited for a couple of minutes.

When she still didn’t come to the door, she pulled out her mobile phone, checked her file for a phone number and rang Amy. From inside the flat, she could hear the phone ringing. Concerned, she knocked again.

‘Amy? It’s Josie. I know you’re in there. What’s the matter?’

Still there was no answer. Josie quickly wrote a message on a calling card and popped it through the letterbox. Unable to do any more, she went back to her car.

Bloody typical, she thought.

Now she had Amy
and
Kelly to worry about.

For Josie, the day hadn’t ended at five o’clock as the office closed its doors to the public. By rights, it wasn’t her night to stay late for the monthly residents meeting, but Ray had conveniently had a memory lapse and left early straight from his last appointment. He’d rung in to speak to one of the admin staff rather than directly to her. Josie wasn’t the type of person to shoot the messenger, so she’d had no choice but to step in.

‘It’s bloody ridiculous what we have to put up with around here,’ Saul Tamworth said, as he slammed his fist down onto the table. ‘I’m not paying a penny more in rent unless you get something done about it.’

‘Yeah, too right,’ nodded Muriel Tamworth. ‘It’s so flipping noisy, every night.’

Mr and Mrs Tamworth lived in Warren Street, on the outskirts of the estate. Over the past few months, they’d been plagued by a gang of teenagers tearing around on scrambler bikes across the open fields behind their property – a property they’d moved into
because
of the open fields they overlooked.

‘Like I told you at the last meeting,’ Josie reiterated patiently, ‘this is a matter for the police to deal with. It’s an anti-social behaviour issue and you need to contact them every time the boys come –’

‘That’s no bloody use. They can’t do anything either! They’re always far too busy to respond to the likes of us. Seven times I rang the switchboard last night.’

Mr Tamworth was a heavily-built man in his late fifties, with grey hair and cheeks that matched the shade of his grubby red sweatshirt precisely. His wife was a fair bit younger, probably early thirties, built like a barrel with greasy hair and a face covered in acne. To Josie they seemed an odd couple, more like uncle and niece. They were two of nine tenants who had turned up for the monthly tenants’ meeting – ‘the gripe night’, they called it back at the office. They sat on orange plastic chairs, squashed around a snooker table, in a room at the back of the community centre.

Josie tuned out of Mr Tamworth’s rants and checked her watch as another tenant, Mrs Roper, joined in. ‘I think it’s preposterous that you can’t do anything about it,’ she shouted across the room. ‘The noise is atrocious, it’s like having a hair dryer on high speed and I can’t hear my television half the time.’

Josie wondered how she could hear anything above the full volume of her television. Mrs Roper had worn a hearing aid for the best part of thirty years now. Whenever Josie visited, it was sometimes minutes before she could get her attention, even banging on the front window after trying the door.

‘Yeah, and it’s always late when they –’

 Josie held up a hand, trying to bring things back to the agenda. ‘I’ll have another word with PC Baxter and see what he can do. If he’s on shift, maybe if he walks around the area every night for a couple of weeks, things might calm down.’

‘That isn’t the point.’ Mrs Tamworth folded her arms across a huge chest that sat on an even larger stomach. ‘They’ll only move onto somewhere else.’

Josie raised her eyes to the ceiling and withheld her exasperation.

‘Before
we
move on,’ Mr Ashworth from number 92 William Precinct began to speak, ‘I’d like to congratulate Josie on getting rid of most of the dog poo from in front of my house. It’s been far more pleasant taking my daily walk.’

‘Must be because you haven’t let your own dog out to crap everywhere else,’ muttered Mrs Pike from number 74.

Mr Ashworth sat forward in his chair and turned his head to the right. ‘You always have to say something detrimental, don’t you, Mrs Pike? You can’t say a nice word about anyone.’

Mrs Pike huffed. ‘That’s because I’m always right. You let that ratty thing of yours crap all over my pathway last month.’

‘I cleaned it up, didn’t I? Charlie has been poorly lately.’

‘I bet it won’t be long before it happens again.’

‘It’ll be a very long time, my dear. He passed away last week.’

‘Moving swiftly on,’ Josie interrupted. She checked the agenda for the next item on the list: number four of sixteen. Great, she sighed – the recent spate of burglaries. And considering there had been another two during the past fortnight, plus another attack on an elderly woman that had left her severely battered and bruised, Josie knew she’d be in for a roasting – even though it was nothing to do with her job.

CHAPTER NINE

By the time everyone had made sure they’d put their point forward, some more forcefully than others, Josie finally brought the meeting to a halt at five to seven. After stacking all the chairs and washing the coffee cups, she left for home ten minutes later. With hardly any traffic on the road, she’d just get back in time for
Coronation Street.
Quickly, she sent a text message to Stewart to let him know she was on her way.

She drove the short journey through the dark streets, wondering why her tenants always worried over the most trivial of matters. Didn’t they have anything better in their lives to occupy their minds, apart from moaning about the little things or going on about other people’s behaviour? It was bound to be a case of the pot calling the kettle – Josie would love to get inside their homes at night to see what they really got up to behind closed doors. Then she thought of the huge age gap between Mr and Mrs Tamworth – hmm, maybe not.