The Good Neighbour (34 page)

‘Well, no, but it’s clearly a phone he’s got access to,’ Andy said.

‘Not necessarily,’ Minette said, her voice rising in pitch. ‘Suppose it’s Cath’s! Or someone she knows?’

Abe put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Minette’s right. You don’t want to alert Cath that something’s up.’

‘But I didn’t reply last time Adam got in touch, and it didn’t make no difference,’ Andy said. ‘I wasn’t planning to text anyway, till I was in the cab from the airport.’

‘Turning up unannounced is far better,’ Minette said. ‘The element of surprise …’

‘OK, maybe you’re right,’ Andy said. ‘I won’t.’

Minette looked at him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Oh great, another fucking thing to worry about.

Abe had been looking up flights and now he said, ‘Here’s the best one. Leaves Heathrow tomorrow at 13.40, eleven hours later you pop up in San Diego, 16.55 their time.’

‘Abe, I’m sure Andy can book his own flight,’ Minette said, irritably. ‘He does travel the world for his job, you know.’

‘I don’t go by air, though,’ Andy said. ‘Last time I booked a flight was before I met Ruby, lads’ weekend in Spain, and I went into a travel agent to do it. That dates me.’

‘I suppose all that driving round for work, you just want to be at home when you can,’ Abe said, shooting a keep-it-together look at Minette.

‘Not lately,’ Andy said. He handed Abe his bank card to pay for the flight. ‘But this is going to be the most exciting journey of my life.’

NATHAN HAD A
best friend, a boy called Chip. A chip here meant a crisp. Nathan said he could have two best friends. But it wasn’t the same as having a best friend all to yourself.

Milo told Adam his best friends from all the different places he had lived. He didn’t tell Davey. He didn’t miss Davey like he missed Adam. Davey was just a short time thing.

1. Kiera, from his nursery in Liverpool. He didn’t remember her very well, apart from her pink strawberry hairclip, but he remembered a painting she did of Father Christmas.
   
2. Sammy was at his nursery in Harrogate, then they both went to the same school. He’d have said Sammy was his best friend when he left Harrogate, but Sammy hadn’t always been nice to him. He once laughed when an older boy said ‘retard’.
   
3. Eric was the nicest boy at the Duchenne support group in Harrogate.
   
4. His granddad and grandma weren’t exactly friends, because they were old, but Milo really missed them. He stayed with them a lot when his mum was busy.
   
5. Olivia was the nicest person at Forest Lodge school. And a special bonus entry from MT. Milo knew MT was too grown-up to really be his friend, but he liked him anyway.
   

Milo had been out at Grape Day Park, playing with Nathan and Chip. He’d not been back in the house long when there was a knock at the door. He answered it to a lady he didn’t know. Her hair was in a long brown ponytail and she was very smiley. ‘Hey, you must be Milo,’ she said. Milo’s mum came to the door, and the lady shook her hand and told them that she was Ashley, Nathan’s mom. She held up her phone. Milo was frightened for a minute that she was cross that he had used it, but she was still smiling.

‘I got a text today, I didn’t see it till just now, and I think it must be for Milo!’ She laughed when she said this.

Milo’s heart started beating hard. Had Minette replied?

His mum turned to look at him. ‘Why in the world would you be using Ashley’s phone?’ she said. She smiled too, not a real one. She said to Ashley. ‘I am so sorry,’ she said.

‘Not to worry at all,’ Ashley said. ‘I let Nathan use it all the time. It’s more his than mine.’ She laughed again. Milo could see that she really didn’t mind, but his mum looked very angry.

‘So, er, what was the message?’ Milo’s mum asked. Her hand was holding very tightly onto the edge of the door. ‘Who is it from?’

Ashley consulted her phone. ‘It just says, “Hey Adam-Milo, I’ll be there in an hour. Love you. D.”’

Dad. It was from Dad. Milo couldn’t believe it. He was coming. He was nearly here.

‘Could I just have a look at that, Ashley?’ Milo’s mum said. Her face was white, clean white like Gina’s sofa. Nathan’s mum handed her the phone.

‘My god, it was sent forty minutes ago,’ Milo’s mum shouted. Aunty Verna came running into the hall. Milo knew he was in massive trouble but he didn’t care.

‘I’m really sorry, is it a problem, can I help in any way?’ asked Ashley. She’d stopped smiling and looked worried.

‘It’s a huge fucking problem,’ Milo’s mum said, and Ashley put her hand over her mouth.

‘Excuse us please, won’t you?’ Aunty Verna said, and gave back the phone. ‘Thank you so much for coming round, it was really kind of you.’ She shut the door in Ashley’s face and turned to Milo. ‘What on earth were you thinking of, honey?’ she said, but she didn’t seem surprised.

Milo’s mum was walking up and down the hall, backwards and forwards. ‘Think, think, I got to think.’

‘Look, honey, why don’t we just sit down and talk to Andy? I’m sure it will be OK, we just got to be rational about this …’

‘It’s not going to be fucking well OK, Verna.’

‘Please, Ruby, not in front of the child.’

‘Right.’ Milo’s mum stopped walking. ‘I reckon we’ve got ten minutes. Can I borrow Wade’s car?’

‘Sure, honey, it’s just sitting there on the drive. You absolutely sure you don’t want to see Andy, put an end to all this?’

‘It won’t put an end, it will never end, it will just keep going on and getting worse. Do me a favour Verna, I’m going to grab some clothes and my laptop, can you throw a bag together for the kids? Change of clothes, toothbrushes, teddies, that’s it, I can buy everything else and you can send me the rest of our stuff when we’re settled.’

Milo’s mum ran upstairs and Aunty Verna followed her. He went into the rumpus room where Breeze was sucking her thumb and watching TV.

‘Daddy’s coming,’ he said.

‘Who is?’

‘Daddy, you remember?’

She looked unsure. ‘He was naughty.’

‘No, he was nice.’

‘Mummy’s nice,’ Breeze said, and stuck her thumb in her mouth again. Milo sat down to watch with her. It was an old-fashioned cartoon, Milo couldn’t think of the name, it was a duck with a funny voice. Milo had a long-ago memory of watching it with his grandparents back in Harrogate. He would see them again soon. He pinched the top of his nose so he wouldn’t cry.

Their mum came into the room and turned off the telly. ‘OK kids, we got to go. Get in the car, I’ll explain on the way, Breeze. We got your brother to thank for this one. Don’t think I won’t be having a few words with you about this, Milo. Say bye-bye to Aunty Verna, hopefully we’ll be back soon, we’re just going on a little holiday.’

‘I thought we were already on holiday,’ Breeze said.

‘Another one,’ Milo’s mum said. ‘Car, now.’

Breeze ran out. Milo stayed where he was. ‘Come ON,’ his mum said.

‘I’m not coming,’ he said.

‘You most certainly are. I’m not messing about. Get in the car. It’ll be OK. We can write to Daddy, tell him we’re OK. You can even talk to him on the phone, if you want. But we really have to go RIGHT NOW.’ Milo’s mum was crying. Her face was red now, not white. Milo felt sorry for her. But he knew he wouldn’t go, not even if a policeman told him to.

‘I’m not coming.’

His mum grabbed his arm, tried to pull him to the door. He held onto the table, so she tried tickling him so he’d let go, but as soon as his hand slipped off one part of the table he grabbed another part. She pulled harder at his arm and he couldn’t hold on any more, so he dropped to the floor and grabbed the table leg with his free hand. The table started to move with him as his mum dragged him along the floor. The pink carpet was clean and bristly, and felt nice under his back.

Aunty Verna called from outside the room, ‘Just popping a snack in the kids’ bag. Listen, sugar, if you’re going you oughta go.’ Then she came in and said, ‘What in the name of Beelzebub are you two doing? You planning to take my good table with you?’

Milo’s mum said, ‘Can you help me, please, Verna?’

‘Help do what? Physically remove the child from this room? I don’t think so.’

‘He’s just being silly. You grab one leg, I’ll grab the other.’

‘You listen to what you’re asking, Ruby.’

Milo’s mum let him go and sat down with a thump on the sofa. Aunty Verna smiled at Milo. ‘Come on, honey, your place is with your momma.’

Milo shook his head, still holding on tight to the table leg.

Milo’s mum said, in a quiet voice, ‘What’ll I do? He won’t come.’ She rubbed her arms, first one, then the other.

‘Have you hurt your arms?’ Milo said.

She shook her head.

‘Well, Ruby, this is what I meant before,’ Aunty Verna said. ‘They gets to a certain age, ain’t possible to make them do what they don’t want.’

Milo sat up, and he and his mum stared at each other across the room. Milo’s mum pushed her hand into her hair. It looked funny, stuck up at the front like a hedgehog. She said, ‘Aren’t you happy here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then for Christ’s sake, why did you send that message?’

‘I want Daddy.’

‘You can’t have me
and
Daddy.’

‘I want to.’

‘You can’t, Milo, it’s one or the other. Do you understand?’

He didn’t answer. She yelled: ‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND?’

Milo thought about Minette saying, ‘Are you ever frightened by your mum?’ He nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘Boy wants both his parents, Ruby. It’s only natural. Now, let me ask you one more time. Why don’t we just talk to Andy? He probably feels so remorseful. He ain’t going to be the first fellow who acted crazy then regretted it. He’ll be a lamb, I promise you. You all can stay here while you decide what to do …’

‘I can’t.’ Milo’s mum stood up.

‘So what are you saying?’ Aunty Verna asked.

Milo’s mum said, ‘I’m going to have to go without him.’

‘You crazy?’ Aunty Verna shouted. It was the first time since they arrived that Milo had even seen her cross. ‘You can’t abandon your child! Think about what you are saying.’

‘I’m not abandoning him,’ Milo’s mum said. She was properly crying now. ‘He’s abandoning me. He’s made a choice.’

‘But you could stay! I’ll look after you all. I’ll send Andy packing, don’t you worry.’

There was a sound of a car outside and Milo’s mum ran to the window. ‘Christ almighty.’ Then she turned back. ‘Not him. OK. Verna, did you do the kids’ bag? Thanks.’ She took it from Aunty Verna, pulled Milo into a hug and kissed him hard on the cheek.

‘Bye, Adam,’ she said. ‘I love you.’

‘I know,’ Milo said.

He felt her fingers press harder on his back. She stayed there for a long time, so long he wondered if she really was going to go. It was very quiet. Then she stood back, and looked at him.

‘I wish …’ she said, and looked from him to Aunty Verna.

‘Yes, sugar?’ Aunty Verna said.

Then Milo’s mum shook her head, walked outside and put Breeze into the car. Milo stood in the doorway watching them.

‘This is just crazy stuff,’ Aunty Verna said to him. ‘I am so angry at your mother.’

Milo could hear Breeze wailing, calling his name. He waved, and the car reversed suddenly, in a big jump, then bunny-hopped into the road. His mother got it going properly and the car roared away. Aunty Verna put her hand on his shoulder and they stood there for a few minutes, staring into the street, not saying anything. Then she said, ‘Oh my gosh, I think she’s gone off with your toy.’

‘What one?’

‘She told me to pack teddies for both of you. Your soft brown bear?’

A taxi pulled up, and before it stopped properly, his dad jumped out and ran to him.

‘Adam! You’re standing!’ his dad said, and he flung his arms round him.

‘Daddy,’ Milo said, and tears went all over his dad’s shirt, ‘Daddy, Mummy has taken Waffles.’

‘
GO AND HAVE
a coffee,’ Sharon urged. ‘She’ll be fine. Hey, Tilly, shall we play with the sand?’

She took Tilly’s hand and led her to the sandpit. Tilly whooped in excitement when she saw it, practically dragged Sharon the last few steps. Sharon smiled, and made a shooing motion at Minette with her hands. ‘Bye, sweetie,’ Minette called, but Tilly didn’t look round.

Outside, Minette raised her face to the sky and took a couple of slow breaths, looked at the clouds, wiped under her eyes with the side of her hand. There was a whole world out here, and she was on her own in it. She walked to the nearest café and ordered an espresso. Her mother Élise, unlike most of her French compatriots, didn’t generally drink coffee, preferring tea after all her years living in England. However, when Minette was a child, Élise always celebrated any small achievement in their lives with
un café
. So it came to seem to Minette as though it was a treat, like champagne, though she too didn’t much like it. She stirred in two lumps of sugar, and sipped it. Still too bitter.

Tilly’s try-out at Busy Tigers was a success, and she started going there three days a week. Shortly after, Minette returned to work. Her old colleagues were delighted to see her, and she was plunged straight back into the rotas and new systems and gossip as though she’d never been gone. She found that she enjoyed it even more than she’d done B.T. – Before Tilly – because work was now a contrast to the rest of her life. While there, she could finish a conversation, have a coherent thought from beginning to end, eat a quiet lunch at her desk, go for a pee whenever she liked. Home became easier too, because Tilly was more tired now she was at nursery, and she began to sleep reliably through the night to seven o’clock. When they were students this would have been a brutal time to wake; now Abe called it a ‘luxury lie-in’. Minette slowly began to feel like her old self again.

All four grandparents came to Tilly’s first birthday party. Minette’s parents were civil to each other, which was made possible by Richard leaving his difficult second wife at home. They even paid jointly for a family photo of all of them, though they made sure to sit on opposite sides of the picture. Julie and Roy gave Tilly a huge soft lion, big enough for her to sit on, which she adored. Everyone loved the meal Minette made, the champagne sparkled, and Julie made a speech in which she described Minette and Abe as ‘the best parents I have ever seen’, to which Élise called out, ‘
Bien dit!
’ It was one of the happiest times Minette could remember for a long time. She silently gave thanks to the God of Good Things that her life, as she knew it, remained intact. Despite everything, she’d managed not to screw things up.