The Woman Outside My Door

by Rachel Ryan

  But it was quiet now. Whoever came here at night was elsewhere.

  Georgina was alone.

  She turned on the spot, looking all around. The bushes were dense, the tree trunks thick. It was possible an adult could have stood concealed behind one of those trees, out of sight of Luke and Patrick, stepping out only when Cody was alone…

  A breeze sent the leaves rustling, and Georgina shivered.

  She said she was my granny.

  Just as she shook herself, determined not to get spooked, the branches to her right trembled.

  She turned her head sharply. Could that have been the wind?

  No, because the wind was in the leaves, softly whispering. Whatever was moving in the bushes was deliberate, solid.

  A twig cracked.

  Georgina took a step back. From the looks of this place, she didn’t want to meet any of the people who frequented it.

  But something was coming. The sounds were getting closer now, crashing towards her—

  Then, sending all the branches shuddering, a shape tumbled out onto the ground.

  A huge woolly white dog, with a lolling pink tongue and wagging tail.

  “Oh, my God.” Georgina crouched down to rub his head. “You scared me, boy.”

  The dog licked her hand happily before charging off into the undergrowth.

  She straightened up. Get it together, she told herself. Nobody had been lurking behind any trees. The fictional grandmother was just Cody’s way of dealing with grief, as Bren had said. The phone call last night had been a prank or a wrong number.

  She was getting anxious over nothing.

  As she turned to leave, Georgina noticed a glimmer of gold on the rubbish-strewn ground. Something stamped into the dirt.

  Hesitantly, she reached down and pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. As delicately as she could, she tugged it free.

  But it was only a golden sweet wrapper, with the words CAFFREY’S CONFECTIONERY stamped across it. She let it drift back to the ground.

  For God’s sake, said the part of her brain that sometimes spoke in Bren’s firm, rational voice. You’re letting a child’s imagination get under your skin.

  Picturing the look that would be on his face as he said it, she decided not to mention to Bren that she’d come here.

  Feeling idiotic, and suddenly very aware of how cold it was, Georgina wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and set off to collect her son from school.

  Chapter 4

  Later that afternoon, when Cody was settled in front of the TV, Georgina sat at the kitchen table and opened her laptop to study. But she couldn’t concentrate.

  Closing her eyes, she envisioned her future as an art teacher. A brightly lit classroom with paintings on the walls. An end, finally, to shift work. Finding the odd student with real promise, seeing them go on to complete their degree as she hadn’t… Focusing on that dream always gave her the motivation to get to work. But—

  “Mom?” Just as she began to type, Cody burst into the room. “I’m bored of watching TV.”

  Feeling like the Worst Mother in the World, Georgina said, “How about just half an hour more TV? Just one more episode and—”

  Ding-dong.

  “I’ll get it!” Delighted by the distraction, Cody went thumping into the hall. Resigned, Georgina followed him.

  She found him on the doorstep talking to Vera, their next-door neighbor.

  “Hiya, Georgina!” Vera was a small, warm woman in her seventies. With her round face and round glasses, she always put Georgina vaguely in mind of an owl. She was wearing a puffy purple coat, and her permed hair was dyed a dull fair color that Georgina guiltily thought of as “old-lady blonde.” It was her mother, Rose, who had put that phrase in her head: “Don’t ever let them put that old-lady blonde in my hair! It’s worse than gray.” Georgina had found her mother’s commitment to glamour an endearing vanity. Rose wouldn’t have been caught dead in a coat like the one Vera was wearing.

  The phrase “caught dead” jarred in Georgina’s brain.

  “I baked too much, as usual,” Vera was saying. “Banana bread, straight from the oven.”

  “Well, come on in!” said Cody importantly. Georgina had to smile. Vera’s habit of showing up with baked goods made her very popular with Cody.

  Until recently, Vera had shared her home with her daughter, Lorraine; Lorraine’s partner, Dave; and their two-year-old son, Sean. But Lorraine, Dave, and Sean had emigrated and moved to Australia late last year.

  Georgina had liked Lorraine and Dave. Small houses and thin walls created a sense of intimacy, and Georgina, who’d overheard their jokes, arguments, and laughter, knew they were a happy family. When they left, Vera had maintained a determinedly cheery outlook, but Georgina knew it must be difficult for her. That noisy house suddenly empty. All the family she had on the other side of the world.

  In the kitchen, Cody and Vera sat down at the table while Georgina put the kettle on.

  “How are Lorraine and Dave getting on?” she asked Vera as she made the tea.

  “Oh, they’re great,” Vera said, unwrapping the bread. “There’s so much opportunity for young people over there, you know.”

  The instant the banana bread was uncovered, Cody grabbed a slice and shoved it into his mouth.

  “Cody,” Georgina chided.

  Vera only chuckled. “I was on Skype with them this morning,” she went on. “Lorraine was terrified because Sean found a huge spider in the house, but Sean wasn’t scared at all. ‘I saw big spidey, Nanny,’ he kept saying. ‘Big spidey!’ ”

  “How big was the spider?” Cody demanded through a mouthful of banana bread.

  “Huge,” said Vera solemnly. “Big as your hand.”

  “Gross,” said Cody with enthusiasm. “Was it poisonous?”

  “Well, probably not,” Vera admitted. “But,” she continued, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper, “some of the spiders over there are deadly poisonous.”

  As Vera and Cody discussed Australian wildlife, Georgina zoned out to the tick tock of the kitchen clock.

  She thought of her behavior earlier. Climbing into the bushes like an idiot. Scared half to death by a dog, for God’s sake. She thought about getting back to her studies once Vera was gone. She thought, as she did constantly, about her mother. She stifled a yawn, sipped her chamomile tea, and watched the clock tick tock as Vera chatted—

  The shadows. The clock. The stuffed toy.

  An involuntary shudder ran through Georgina. That was a most unwelcome memory, one she pushed firmly away. Why would she think of that now? Her spine stiffened, causing her to sit up straighter in her chair, but neither Vera nor Cody, deep in conversation, seemed to notice.

  “And poisonous snakes that crawl into shoes,” Vera was telling Cody. “People put on their shoes and feel something wriggling…”

  Georgina had to smile at the look of delight on Cody’s face. Never underestimate the bloodthirstiness of the average seven-year-old. Feeling a little better, she helped herself to a slice of banana bread. It was soft and delicious.

  When the tea was finished and the table cleared, Georgina walked Vera to the door. “Pop over anytime, Vera.”

  “You’re too kind, Georgina. Talk to you soon.”

  After Vera had gone indoors, Georgina lingered in her own front garden a moment longer, wanting to breathe in the crisp air and outside world before returning to her laptop.

  Across the street, the Brazilian couple from number 24 walked with arms around each other, laughing at some private joke. The woman was heavily pregnant. Her partner held her with a tenderness that tugged at Georgina’s chest. They were part of the backdrop to her neighborhood. Just like the students in number 18, who never mowed their lawn and sometimes threw wild parties. Just like Anthony, their next-door neighbor on the other side: a burly man, sixtyish, with faded tattoos and a heavily lined face. Unlike Vera, Anthony had always lived alone. He could come across as gruff—Bren had never liked hi
m—but Georgina thought there was kindness in the lines around his eyes. She always gave him a warm smile, and sometimes she got one in return.

  Georgina loved living here. Loved the red-brick houses and the twisted tree roots that split the concrete. Loved that a five-minute walk to the left reached a bustling main road, busy with pubs and bakeries and flower shops, but that her street was quiet and calm. A slice of an old neighborhood in the heart of Dublin.

  She took it all in, then turned and walked indoors. Back to the grindstone. But first, where was—

  “Cody?”

  Not in the kitchen. She went to check the front room. The TV was off. No sign of him.

  Just as she was about to leave the room, she heard a small noise behind the sofa.

  She smiled.

  “I wonder where Cody could be hiding,” she addressed the room.

  In the ensuing silence, she heard that sound again—a secretive scuffle.

  “Under the table? No…” Georgina walked with deliberately clunky footsteps across the floor. “Behind the door? No… Could he be behind the sofa?”

  She leaned over the top of the sofa and saw her son crouching there, the house phone pressed to his ear.

  “Hi, Mom,” Cody said. Then he added into the phone: “She found me.”

  Georgina felt her smile fade a little.

  “Who are you talking to, sweetie?”

  Cody giggled.

  “Is the phone for me, Cody?” she asked, a little more sternly.

  “No.” For a child with a tendency to misbehave, Cody became very indignant when wrongfully accused. “It’s for me.”

  “Who is it?”

  He was grinning like this was an enormous joke, one he hadn’t decided whether or not to let his mother in on yet. Then—

  “It’s the old lady,” he said. “From the park. The old lady who wants to be my granny.”

  The sudden trembling inside Georgina was so strong she was surprised to see that her hand, when she held it out, was quite steady.

  “Cody,” she said, her tone leaving no room for disagreement, “give me the phone.”

  He heard the change in her voice and reluctantly handed it over. Georgina hesitated for a fraction of a second, remembering that late-night phone call, that deliberate silence on the line, before holding the handset to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  Nobody there. Just a dial tone.

  She shook her head inwardly at her own overactive imagination. She was sorry now for interrupting Cody’s game. “I think Granny must have hung up, darling,” she said.

  Cody grabbed the phone back, and his face fell. “She did hang up.” He looked at Georgina accusingly. “Maybe she doesn’t like you.”

  Chapter 5

  They visited Georgina’s father on Saturday, as planned. Georgina’s childhood home was considerably bigger than the one she lived in now, located in an area considerably swankier than the one she lived in now.

  “Georgie,” her father boomed at the door, folding her into a big hug. “My great girl.”

  Jimmy McGrath was a huge man—massively tall and broad, and, in his old age, fat with it, due to his fondness for red wine and rich food. He had towered over his late wife, a tiny woman who had nevertheless been the tougher of the two.

  “How’re you doing, Dad?”

  “Ah, grand, grand,” Jimmy said loudly. “Can’t complain. What’s that you have there, Bren?”

  Bren was carrying the dinner in Tupperware containers. “Chicken Alfredo made with cauliflower sauce.”

  Jimmy eyed it suspiciously. He approved of Bren, but not what he called his “fancy cooking.” “Cauliflower sauce?” he muttered to Georgina. “I never heard the likes.” Then, leaning down from his great height towards Cody, he asked: “And how’s my favorite grandson?”

  “I’m your only grandson,” Cody answered as he always answered, and Jimmy laughed as he always laughed, a great booming ha-ha-ha, before slipping Cody a twenty-euro note.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Dad,” said Georgina, amused and exasperated in equal measure. “You gave him twenty quid last weekend too. He’s seven, he doesn’t need all that money.”

  “I do so need it,” said Cody, and with the note clutched happily in one hand, he raced inside and began jumping up and down on the sofa. Jimmy smiled indulgently, unfazed by the threat to his expensive furniture.

  “There you are. He does need it. What are you going to buy, Cody?”

  “I’m going to buy the Mega-Power Purple Slinger Machine Gun with penguin and monkey bullets!”

  “Well, there you have it, Georgie. He’s going to buy the Mega-Purple—what was it?”

  “Slinger Machine Gun,” Bren interjected in passing. “Some awful toy all the kids are mad for. Costs nearly two hundred quid.”

  “Well then,” said Jimmy loudly, “I’ll buy it for him.”

  “Shhh,” Georgina hushed him. Luckily Cody, still jumping on the sofa, hadn’t heard. “Dad, he got a ton of toys for Christmas. Why don’t you wait ’til his birthday?”

  “But I don’t mind buying it.”

  “That’s really good of you, but there’s just no need. And he doesn’t need money every time we pop around, either.”

  “Georgina,” said her father huffily, “I’ve always given Cody money when he visits.”

  “And I appreciate it. But when Mom was still here, we didn’t visit quite so—”

  Georgina broke off. At the mention of his late wife, Jimmy’s jolly mask slipped, and what was hidden behind it shocked her. He looked so gray, so grief-stricken, so old.

  “Dad.” She felt suddenly sick. What was she arguing for? If spoiling his grandchild bought her father some happiness, brought some light to that exhausted face, surely it was money well spent.

  “Buy him the stupid toy, Dad.” Let him spoil Cody rotten. “I’m sorry I made a fuss.”

  Georgina thought suddenly of Cody’s pretend phone call and prayed he wouldn’t mention that awful game in front of his grandfather. She didn’t think Jimmy could handle hearing Rose’s memory being used in such a flippant and disturbing manner.

  “Dad? Are you listening to me?” She touched his arm. “Get him the Mega-Power Purple Slinger Machine Gun if you want.”

  Jimmy looked at her, and the hint of a smile creased his eyes. Georgina could have cried with relief.

  “The purple monkey what? Am I expected to remember the bloody name?”

  Georgina started to giggle—and then they were both laughing, the kind of laughter that gathers momentum, has a life of its own. They clutched each other, hysterical, until Cody came over to stare with some concern. “What are you laughing at?”

  Georgina wiped tears from her eyes. “Purple… monkey…” she managed, and then they were off again.

  Cody shook his head soberly. “Grown-ups are weird.”

  * * *

  The dinner was delicious. Jimmy, despite his reservations regarding cauliflower sauce, cleared his plate and asked for more.

  As they were loading the dishwasher afterwards, Georgina said to her father, “I noticed a lot of cardboard boxes upstairs.”

  She didn’t mention that she had looked inside the boxes and recognized her mother’s clothes.

  “Oh, those,” Jimmy replied as he scraped leftovers into the bin. “Old stuff that needs to be sorted. Most of it’ll go to charity, I suppose.”

  He did not look at her as he spoke.

  “I can help, Dad,” Georgina offered. “I’ll come round and go through some of the stuff for you.”

  “Would you, love?” He looked at her gratefully then. “That’d be great.”

  Before they left, Georgina slipped out to the back garden. Her mother had always left food and water out for wild animals. Since her death, Jimmy had pledged to keep her bird feeders filled. But while his intentions were good, his efforts were haphazard, and Georgina knew that more often than not, he simply forgot.

  Today she found the feeders empty and the water ic
ed over. Quietly, without pointing it out to her father, she refilled both.

  On the way home, Bren drove. Georgina stared out the window and thought about her father in that big house by himself. His wife was gone. His brother, Billy, his only sibling, had been in a home with early-onset Alzheimer’s for several years now. She thought of Jimmy with just the TV for company. She thought of her mother’s birds going hungry.

  She would visit her father more often. Help him with the boxes of clothes. Fill the bird feeders herself. What else could she do?

  * * *

  She had not realized that Bren had overheard her conversation with her dad, but later that evening, he brought it up.

  “It won’t be an easy job, Georgina, helping your dad sort through Rose’s things.”

  Cody was upstairs. They were in the kitchen. Bren was chopping carrots, meal prepping for the week ahead.

  “I know.” Tired, Georgina leaned against the counter. “But you know he won’t do it himself. Those boxes will just sit there forever.”

  “D’you ever notice how you seem to find the time to look after everyone except yourself?”

  Bren’s point was valid. Helping Jimmy clear out Rose’s things would be taxing in more ways than one. But this topic of conversation was beginning to wear on her. It felt like nagging.

  Or maybe her irritation was simply due to the fact that there had been something spiky between them these past months. Things hadn’t been the same, not since—

  Georgina tried to rein in her train of thought, but it was too late. Emma’s face popped into her mind in perfect detail. Glossy dark hair. Green eyes. Sharp cheekbones.

  She hated that she could picture Emma so clearly. She hated that it still hit her as hard, as suddenly, as this.

  “… and milk and bread for tomorrow,” Bren was saying.

  “What?” Georgina zoned back in.

  “We’re out of milk and bread.”

  Bread they could live without, but milk was essential. Cody refused to eat anything but cereal in the mornings.