The Good Neighbour (7 page)

‘Yeah, her high-powered job of Baby is pretty demanding.’

Cath stepped off the ladder and said, ‘That’ll do. Lola won’t mind if it’s a bit streaky. Coffee? Or I’ve got some wine on the go. Are you still breastfeeding?’

‘No. Oh, go on then, just a small one.’

‘I like your style, lady.’

They went downstairs, and Minette said, ‘Talking of neighbours, er, because we were talking about Kirsten, I mean, I had a visit earlier today, from, uh, Liam?’

‘Oh yes, the long-legged star of the Rat Pack.’ Cath began washing her hands at the kitchen sink. Raising her voice over the sound of the running water, she said, ‘So, did he pop round for anything in particular?’

‘Just for a chat. I think he’s fed up at home, waiting for his course to start.’

Cath dried her hands, got a bottle of white wine out of the fridge, and opened it expertly with an old-fashioned corkscrew.

‘Oh, don’t open that specially for me.’ Tilly wriggled to get down, so Minette put her on the floor. ‘I thought you already had a bottle on the go?’

‘Yeah, must have finished it. Opened it now.’ Cath smiled mischievously. ‘So, just a chat, huh?’

‘Um, yes. Sort of. I don’t know.’ Minette trailed off. But there was something about Cath, handing her a large glass of wine, patiently waiting for her to speak, that made her blurt out, ‘He’s just, it’s just … looks-wise, he’s my perfect man. Not that Abe’s not lovely, he’s wonderful. But Liam, he looks like someone I might dream about.’ Oh god, Minette thought, why am I going on like this?

‘He’s your animus, I reckon.’ Cath sat down opposite Minette, and took a sip of her wine.

‘My what?’

‘I did a year of psychology when I was nursing. The animus is like, your ideal man. Physically, I mean. You know we all have a type? So your animus is your perfect type.’

‘Liam is probably a lot of women’s type.’

‘The animus and anima are why people fall in love at first sight. You see someone who looks like the perfect person in your head, and wham.’ Cath banged the table for emphasis.

Minette regarded Cath with interest. For some reason she’d assumed Cath wasn’t very bright. ‘That’s fascinating.’

‘So how long did your animus stay for?’

‘Oh, only ten minutes or so.’ To change the subject, Minette said, ‘So, it was nice to meet Gina. Does she live with you?’

‘Gina? She’s at home in Eastbourne.’ Cath looked surprised. ‘Why did you think she might live here?’

‘Oh, I thought, um, I thought maybe you …’ Minette ground to a halt.

Cath laughed, a loud whooping sound. ‘You thought she was my girlfriend.’

‘God, way off base, clearly. Sorry.’ Jesus, Minette. She berated herself: first you think she’s dim because of her cockney-mixed-with-oop-north accent. Then you assume she’s gay. You’re like the worst kind of bigot.

‘Haha, that’s really funny, Gina’ll love that. No, we go way back and she’s my rock, but she’s straight. She’s not my anima.’ Cath let out another blast of noisy laughter and Lola came running in.

‘What’s the matter Mummy?’ On seeing Minette, she gave her a big smile and said hopefully, ‘Biscuits?’

‘I’m sorry Lola, I didn’t make any more yet. I’ll bring you some more soon, I promise.’

Lola nodded, then said, ‘Oh, look at Tilly.’

Minette had forgotten about Tilly. She and Cath whirled round to find her sitting by the cupboard under the sink, quietly playing with bottles of cleaning fluid.

‘Oh Jesus,’ Minette cried, plucking Tilly off the floor. ‘Have you opened any of these Tilly, have you drunk anything?’ Tilly looked blankly at her.

Cath checked the bottles. ‘They’re all closed. She’s fine.’ She calmly ran water into the sink to wash Tilly’s hands. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Minette was angry at herself for being so negligent, and slightly aggrieved that Cath didn’t have child locks. She scrubbed Tilly’s hands and arms more vigorously than she meant to, and Tilly started to wail. ‘I’m finding this phase pretty difficult,’ she said. ‘Having to watch them all the time. It was much more restful when she couldn’t move. Please tell me it gets easier when they’re older.’

‘Easier in some ways,’ Cath said, as Lola wandered back to the living room. ‘My Lola is, anyway. But Davey, he has his own ideas, wants to do things his own way.’

‘Well, I’m looking forward to that,’ Minette said. ‘Not having to be in charge all the time.’

‘Oh, you’ll still be in charge.’ Cath bent over Tilly. ‘You all right now, lovie?’

Tilly grinned at Cath. She smiles at everyone but me, thought Minette. All at once, she felt bone weary. ‘I’d better go home. Time to start the evening sequence.’

‘Honestly lovie, I know it’s hard, but they’re not tiny for long. I’m here if you need a break. I promise I won’t let her near the cupboards again. Lola would love it, a little one to play with.’

Minette could usually only count on getting time to herself when Tilly napped, and not reliably then. This was worth more than diamonds. She felt that she might cry. ‘Really? That would be amazing. But god, you’ve got so much on your plate already. Two kids, and Davey’s, you know, and the decorating, and the triathlon, and everything.’

‘If you want something doing, ask a busy person. Honestly, I mean it. I specialised in paediatrics when I was a nurse, you know. Even if it’s just so you can nip to the shops. Or have a cuppa with your animus.’

She knows it was more than a chat, thought Minette. Had Cath seen them kissing, after all? But she was smiling and Minette didn’t feel judged. Cath didn’t seem the judging type.

‘And if you decide not to go back to work, you’ll need to build in some time for yourself,’ Cath continued. She stroked Tilly’s cheek.

‘Abe says I shouldn’t rush into a decision, but I’m going to have to let my boss know soon.’

Outside her front garden Minette stopped. She saw how exposed the bench was, how clearly you could see it from the street. What a damn idiot. The frames lay on the ground: one clean, the rest still filthy. ‘We’ll do them tomorrow, shall we Tilly?’ she said, and they went inside.

DAVEY HAD BEEN
waiting ages for ICT. It was called Computer Science at his last school, but Olivia told him it was called ICT here. Olivia was his buddy. He was given her on his first day. She smelled a bit of sick but she was all right. The teacher told Olivia to help Davey because he was new. Once she tried to push his wheelchair but it went straight into a wall. ‘Woman driver,’ he said, like his dad used to, and she laughed. She had a very big laugh. He showed her how he could do the chair by himself, and she said it was awesome.

The people in his class were all right, but in Year 5 there were two boys who called him names. Whenever they saw him in the playground or the dinner queue they basically said stuff about his wheelchair, about his trainers and his clothes. He hadn’t got the right school uniform yet. Olivia told them to go away and they pushed her but then they did go away.

ICT was meant to be on Wednesdays. But his first Wednesday they didn’t do it because it was their turn in the library instead. The second Wednesday they didn’t do it because of a special assembly. Davey didn’t know what was so special about it, it was a man in a yellow tie who talked about crossing the road. But now it was Wednesday again and at last the teacher said they were going to the ICT suite. Davey wheeled himself fast out of the classroom, Olivia running to catch up, then the teacher told him to wait. She had a frown on. ‘I’m sorry Davey,’ she said, ‘unfortunately you can’t do ICT.’

‘Why not?’ Davey pretended to be itching his face, and secretly pinched the top of his nose to stop himself crying.

‘You’ll have to talk to your mother about that,’ Miss Hobbs said.

‘I really want to.’

‘I’m sorry. You’ve to watch a film instead.’ She took him back into the classroom and showed him a shelf of DVDs. He chose
Toy Story 2
. The teacher put it in the machine and pressed start but nothing happened. ‘What’s wrong with this thing?’ She kept pressing the same button. Davey found it strange when adults did that. If it didn’t work the first time, there wasn’t any point pressing it again. He didn’t want to tell her what to do, she was the teacher, but then she said, ‘What am I doing wrong?’

‘It’s not the right remote,’ he told her. ‘The DVD is Sony and the remote is Phillips.’

She laughed. There was flesh-coloured powdery stuff in the creases next to her eyes.

‘Children are geniuses at this stuff,’ she said, and rummaged under the TV till she found the Sony remote. While he waited for the DVD to start, Davey told Adam Purcell his top five films.

1. The Incredibles
   – this was his dad’s favourite film too. They’d watched it together at least four times.
   
2. Toy Story 2
   – Lola loved the song about Jessie, and she learned all the words. It made Davey laugh when she sang along to it.
   
3. Meet the Robinsons
   – no one at his last school had seen it. One time when Sammy, his best friend in Harrogate, came round they watched it on DVD and Sammy said it was really cool.
   
4. Toy Story 3
   – his mum cried at the end when Andy gave Woody away. He liked the scary teddy.
   
5. Toy Story 1
   – not the best but still pretty good.
   

The teacher said again that she was sorry, and she went out to teach the others ICT.

‘
I’VE STILL GOT
it,’ Cath joked to Minette, because Tilly was clearly comfortable in her house. She had crawled straight into the living room without a backwards glance. ‘Looking after babies – it’s like riding a bike.’

But Minette still hovered in the hall. ‘My friend Ros got on a bike after ten years and fell off, broke her wrist,’ she said, smiling anxiously.

‘Go on, go. Have a relaxing time. I won’t let her near the kitchen cupboards, promise.’

‘I haven’t left her with anyone before. But I really need a cut.’ Minette ran her hand through her hair, justifying it to herself all over again. ‘I haven’t been to the hairdressers since before she was born.’

‘Well, surely your split ends have split ends by now. We’ll be fine.’

Minette looked at her watch. ‘OK, I really had better go.’ She swooped into the living room and kissed Tilly. ‘Thanks so much, Cath. I won’t be long.’

‘Take as long as you want.’ Cath waited till Minette was out of sight before she shut the door, and only then did she permit herself a brief eye-roll. What a fuss. She tidied the breakfast things, then settled down to watch telly with Tilly and Lola. The warmth from Tilly’s small body, cuddled sleepily on her lap, made Cath feel nostalgic. How sweet and tiny babies were. But what a short-lived phase it was; in almost no time they were great lumps, like Lola, sprawled on the floor, gawping at the telly. At least Lola still never missed a chance for a cuddle. Davey, forget about it.

After ten minutes, Tilly was fast asleep. ‘A proper Gina Ford baby,’ Minette had said, boasting about the regularity of Tilly’s naps. Cath loved that feeling of heaviness that sleeping babies gave off, and didn’t want to move, but when her phone rang – she’d left it in the kitchen – she laid Tilly gently on the rug and went to answer it.

‘Hey, Gee. All right? Was just thinking about your namesake, Gina Ford.’

‘Yeah? Getting broody again? Listen, I wanted to let you know that he emailed to say his cheque’s going to be a few days late this month.’

‘Hell.’

‘I can tide you over, Rubes.’

‘You’re a rock. You shouldn’t have to, though. He should be sorting this, regular as clockwork.’

‘He sounded in a right old state in his email. Listen, Ruby …’

‘I know what you’re going to say, Gee, you say it every time. It’s not happening, OK?’ God, maybe Gina was too soft for this after all.

‘So sue me. I think it would help. Just talk to him. What can he do over the phone?’

‘He could trace me.’

‘You can use my spare phone. It’s got no GPS or location stuff, it can’t be tracked.’

It was lucky Davey was at school; this was the sort of conversation he somehow heard every word of, even from behind closed doors.

‘Rubes? You still there?’

‘Mmm.’

‘He misses the kids so bad. Says he’s been crying every night.’

‘Amazed you’re feeling sorry for him, Gee, after everything.’

‘I know. The email caught me at a vulnerable moment.’

‘Why, what’s up?’

‘Oh, nothing really. Bit of a row with Ryan.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’ Though what did she expect, shacking up with someone fifteen years younger? An even keel? Cath didn’t think so.

‘Anyway,’ Gina said, exhaling loudly. ‘I’ll transfer your money as usual and sub myself when the cheque arrives. OK?’

‘That’s really good of you, lovie. What would I do without you?’

There was an uncharacteristic pause before Gina replied, ‘No worries. Well, I’d better go.’

‘Gee, you pissed off with me?’

‘No. Should I be?’

Oh, don’t be like that. ‘Do you really think I should talk to him, then?’

‘It’s up to you. I can’t tell you what to do.’

‘I’ll think about it, OK?’ But Cath knew there was nothing to think about.

‘OK. Speak soon. Love you.’

‘Love you. Thanks.’

Cath clicked off her phone and her smile at the same time. Heaven’s sake, Gina. The whole point was for her to protect Cath, not try to open the lines of communication.

She checked on the children – Tilly still asleep on the rug, Lola still staring at the telly – then brought down the laptop, sat in the kitchen and updated her sponsorship page, ‘Doing it for Davey’. Cath wrote a blogpost about her twelve-mile cycle ride, and sent the link to Duchenne Together, the local support group. Julia, their communications officer, had promised to send it out in their members’ newsletter. Then she opened her email, and wrote:

Dearest V

I know! We’ve landed on our feet. Everyone lovely. Good to be stopped for a while. To be on the safe side I’ve made an appointment at the Passport Office next week, it costs to do the fast track but then I’ve got them and don’t need to worry.