Calling All Neighbours (Calling All... Book 4)

by Tara Ford

Tiff pulled her key from the door and nodded. “Yes – you?”

  “Oh – out and about for the day. Busy, busy, busy.”

  “You sound very cheerful,” said Tiff, admiring Georgie’s casual shoes.

  Georgie locked her front door and walked down her pathway. “Got to be, I suppose.” Her eyes met Tiff’s. “Here,” she said, beckoning to Tiff to move closer. “What were you doing last week – I saw you looking out of your window, with binoculars,” she asked in a hushed voice. “See anything interesting out in the fields?”

  Tiff cleared her throat. “Err… no not really. First time I’ve ever looked out there, to be honest. I… I wanted to get a closer look at the horses. I like horses.”

  Georgie eyed Tiff sharply. “Nice horses.”

  “Yes, not bad. So… sorry, where did you say you’re going today?”

  “Nowhere special – just out.”

  “Well, have a nice day. It’s a beautiful one.”

  “I will.” Georgie grinned. “Don’t you work too hard. Especially as it is a beautiful one. Got to go now – bye.” She waved a hand as she trotted off down her path, towards the gate.

  Tiff didn’t want to walk around the green with her, she had no intention of ever walking alongside Georgie, anywhere. She fumbled in her bag, pretending to look for something as Georgie headed out of her gate and walked across the green, towards Alvin’s house. Then she disappeared around the corner and was gone.

  Switching the Bluetooth on in her car, Tiff searched for Joe’s work number. She pressed the call button on the dashboard’s radio system and drove along steadily to work.

  “Good morning, Ashdown Leisure Centre – how can I help you?” A woman’s voice came through the radio speakers, after several rings.

  “Hello, is that Carol?”

  “No, Carol’s not in today – can I take a message?”

  “Tracey?”

  “Yes, I’m Tracey.”

  “Gosh you sound just like Carol on the phone,” said Tiff as she tried to concentrate on the road ahead. “Hi Tracey – it’s Tiff.”

  “Oh, hello Tiff, how are you? I didn’t recognise your voice either. Are you in a car? Sounds like it.”

  “Yes, driving into work. Is Joe there? I just need a quick word with him.”

  “Joe?”

  Tiff giggled and slowed as she approached the usual, long queue of traffic, into town. “Yes, Joe – the manager. My boyfriend?”

  “Sorry Tiff, I knew who you meant. He’s not here.”

  “He left home quite some time ago – are you sure he’s not there yet?”

  There was a silent pause.

  “Hello?” Tiff turned the dial up on the radio’s volume.

  “Yes, hi Tiff – still here.”

  “Could you check if he’s arrived yet?”

  “Tiff, Joe’s not working today. He’s got the day off.”

  Tiff’s heart plummeted. “Oh,” she spluttered. “But I thought… He left…” The traffic had come to a halt but she continued to grip the steering wheel tightly, with both hands. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” replied Tracey. “Dave’s in. He’s covering for him today.”

  First a burning flush filled her cheeks, then the swirly sensation hit her stomach. Queasy and hot, she attempted to backtrack, embarrassedly. “Oh yes! How stupid of me – I forgot he was having the day off.” Tears began to sting her eyes. “Sorry Tracey, but thanks anyway. Have a nice day.”

  “You too, Tiff. Hope we might see you soon.”

  “Sure you will – bye.”

  “Bye.”

  This was the only day that she had ever been relieved to be stuck in the morning traffic. Giant tears fell from her eyes and almost fizzed and evaporated when they landed on her burning cheeks. Where is he? she thought, fretfully. Tears fell quicker now. She grabbed a tissue from the glove compartment and blew her nose, trying to make the sniffles go away. Peering up into the rear view mirror, she could see that her face was already turning red and blotchy. It always happened when she cried a lot. Luckily, her mascara was still in place, and as long as she didn’t wipe her eyes at all, she would look OK, as soon as she could stop crying.

  She had another ten minutes of her journey left. She had to try and sort herself out before she got to work. Crying, because your boyfriend had taken the day off work, was not a good enough reason to go into work with a wet, grief-stricken face. Because then she would have to let her colleagues know what was really going on. That was the biggest problem of all. She had no idea what was really going on, just that there was something going on. She couldn’t get her head around any of it. One moment Joe was as loving as anyone could ever want their partner to be. The next, he was elusive, vague or decidedly edgy. Then, in an instant, he’d become the caring, understanding boyfriend who could see that his partner had insecurity issues and want to help and be so supportive. Nothing made any sense.

  She couldn’t even call him. Joe had mysteriously left his phone at home. He’d gone out of the door, wearing his usual work attire, carrying his normal briefcase-style bag. He’d even made packed lunches for them both.

  An image of Georgie, dressed beautifully in casual attire, entered her mind. Tiff felt a new surge of sickness rise into her throat. Where was she going today? She’d practically avoided the question of where she was off to and shrugged it off as unimportant. But maybe it was important. Perhaps it was all-important. Tiff tossed the idea away by shaking her head and then pulled into the studio car park. She turned into her usual parking bay and checked her face in the mirror. She looked OK-ish. She felt utterly rubbish though. If she didn’t pull herself together before she went into the studio, she would burst into tears the moment anyone greeted her. How was she going to get through the day like this?

  Chapter 28

  Babe – don’t know what to say. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was having the day off. It was a little secret to be honest with you. Maybe it could still be? Wait until you get home, love Joe xxxx

  Tiff had struggled through the morning, hardly eaten anything during lunchtime and now this, half way through the afternoon. It had better be a great big surprise if she was going to believe it. She discreetly thumbed a reply message on her phone.

  Picked up your phone then? How did Tracey contact you, to tell you your phone was at home? Or have you been at home all day?

  Wait and see when you get home, love you, Joe xxxx

  Tiff threw her phone into her bag, angrily. She did not like ‘little secrets’ as Joe had stated. It was all too much. Sycamore Close seemed to be full of ‘little secrets’ and now her boyfriend was admitting that he was keeping them too.

  She picked up another ornamental rabbit and began to buff the scumble from its back – two more trays and she was going home. She’d had an absolute rubbish day and hardly spoken a word to anyone in the studio. Using the excuse of, ‘time of the month, she had scraped through the morning and lunchtime, by nodding her head here and there and smiling now and again. Her thoughts drifted backwards and forwards – Georgie, Joe, hatred, despair, disbelief, secrets, lies, insecurity, jealousy…

  Hang on a minute, she wasn’t much better herself. She had secrets, she had told lies. Wasn’t it all getting a little out of hand? Was it really all in her head? Or were her worst thoughts really true and Joe was simply cunningly clever and highly deceitful? Backwards and forwards, forgiveness and accusations, Tiff struggled with all of it. It really had to stop. She was losing her mind.

  The journey home had seemed much longer than normal, but Tiff guessed that it was because she was desperate to get back and see what this ‘little secret’ might be. It would have to be a really good one if she was going to believe anything that came out of Joe’s mouth.

  As she walked around the green she could just see Betty’s head bobbing up and down, behind her fence. “Hello Betty, how are you?” said Tiff, peering over the fence. “And how is Cyril doing?”

  “Hello Tiff, yes I’m very well thank you.”
She heaved herself up from the tiny stool she’d been sitting on. “Cyril’s doing very well too – he’ll be absolutely fine tomorrow.”

  “Why tomorrow?” Tiff peered at her puzzled.

  Betty slapped a gloved hand to her mouth and then screwed up her face in disgust, as she realised she’d just covered her face in black soil. She spluttered and spat. “Silly, silly me,” she said, between slobbering and spluttering, and brushing her mouth with her sleeve. “Ah, tomorrow, yes, we’re going out for the first time, since…”

  “Oh, I see,” said Tiff, not wishing to pry further and rake up the memories of Cyril’s unfortunate episode. “Say no more. I’m really pleased to hear it. Hope you’ll have a lovely time, wherever you’re going.”

  Betty grinned sweetly and then spat another tiny piece of black soil from her mouth. “Thank you, Tiff – I’m sure we will have a lovely time.”

  Tiff peeped over the fence. “They look nice – what are they?”

  “Those are petunias,” said Betty pointing to several tiny, flowering green bushes. “And those ones are pansies.” She looked up and met Tiff’s eye. “I have some spare ones if you’d like them.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t take any more from you. You’ve already given us more than enough.”

  “No, please, take them.” She bent over and picked up the two trays. She counted the little plants, still left in their pods. “There are… six, seven, eight, nine there. They’d look nice in your garden, please take them.” Betty smiled warmly and passed the trays over. “They’d give some colour to your back garden if you dotted them around. There you are.”

  Tiff took the trays, reluctantly. “Are you sure? I can’t thank you enough for these. I would love to plant them over the weekend. Are you absolutely sure?”

  Betty nodded her little curly head and grinned.

  “Can I offer you some mon –”

  “No, you can’t,” Betty chimed in.

  “Well,” said Tiff, peering down at the tiny plants, “thank you so much.” She made a mental note to make a thank-you card for Betty. It was about time she started to repay her kind neighbours for the nice things they did – well, some of them anyway. She still needed to make a card for Cyril as well, although it seemed a bit pointless now that he was home from the hospital. Maybe she would make a card saying something like, ‘So pleased to hear that you are back home recuperating’. “Right, I’d better get indoors – Joe will be wondering where I am.”

  “Fine young man, is Joe. You look after that one.”

  “Oh, I will Betty, don’t you worry. Thank you again and have a nice day out tomorrow.”

  “Evening,” Betty corrected.

  “Oh, OK. Have a lovely evening. And please say hello to Cyril for us.”

  “I certainly will. Bye for now.”

  At first, the striking smell of paint hit Tiff’s nose, followed by a subtler, sweet smell of flowers. She walked slowly into the dining room, not knowing quite what to expect. On the dining table, sat a tall vase, filled with colourful tulips in shades of pink, blue, yellow and orange. The whole room (including the kitchen) smelt and looked fresh, clean, spotless – immaculate in fact. Had Joe really taken the day off, secretly, just to clean the house and get some tulips and why could she smell paint? She placed the trays of plants on the floor next to the patio doors and turned to slyly admire Joe’s efforts to make the place look so nice.

  “Tiff – is that you?” Joe called from upstairs.

  “Yes, who else would it be?”

  “Come up here.”

  “Why?” Tiff didn’t want to make it too easy. He had an uncanny knack of wooing her into bed at a moment’s notice. She’s couldn’t resist his charms at the best of times but today, she wanted to be grumpy with him. Today she would make him suffer – just a little. Like she had suffered all day long. Why make it such a big secret to have a day off work, just to clean the house? Why clean the house anyway? Wasn’t that her job at the weekends?

  Grumpily, she walked back through the lounge to the staircase. “Why do I have to come up there?”

  “Because I want you to,” Joe replied. “Please, babe.”

  She climbed the stairs resentfully as the smell of fresh paint grew stronger. “Where are you?” she said, having reached the top. It was normal for her craft room door to be closed but every other door was closed too.

  “In here,” Joe called from the bedroom.

  Tiff tutted to herself and stepped across the landing. She opened the bedroom door slowly and a waft of paint fumes filled her nose. “Oh my God, Joe.”

  “Do you like it?” Joe stood at the far side of the room, covered in speckles of white paint, beaming.

  The room was much brighter than before. The old wardrobes had been replaced with new wider, white ones and the walls were satin-white, on two sides. Two new, white bedside cabinets sat either side of the bed, with small, white table lamps on the top. A neatly made, new, pastel pink and purple flowery quilt cover and pillowcases, with dainty butterflies speckled here and there, lie on the bed and, as Tiff stepped further into the room, she could see a beautiful, matching wallpaper on the opposite wall with a large, white filigree framed mirror in the centre. A luxurious, deep-pile, purple carpet lay at her feet and the window was adorned with brilliant white, vertical blinds and a pair of purple curtains, held against the sides of the window frame with dainty, butterfly tie-backs. Underneath the window was a small, white dressing table with matching stool. The padded seat of the stool was covered in a rich purple, plush fabric.

  Tiff met Joe’s eye and stared incredulously. “How?” She began to say before breaking off and scanning the room again. A beautiful, white lampshade with tiny butterfly stencils hung from the pendant in the centre of the room, which she hadn’t noticed a moment ago, and matched the table lamps perfectly. “How have you done all of this – in a day?”

  Joe walked around the bed and approached her with open arms. “With some careful planning and a bit of sneaking about. Sorry.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “You like it then?”

  “I… I love it… but why?”

  “I wanted to surprise you, babe. You deserve to have nice things. I’ve cleaned the whole house too.”

  “Why?”

  “So you don’t have to do it.” Joe peered down at her. “Don’t forget we’re out tomorrow night, but apart from that, I want you to have a nice, relaxing weekend, with no worries of doing the housework – you deserve it.”

  “Do I?” whispered Tiff.

  “Yes, you do.” Joe smiled down at her sincerely. “Also, the weather’s good all weekend, so we’ll try out our new barbecue on Sunday.”

  “You’ve bought a barbecue as well?”

  “Yes, why not? We can eat al fresco this weekend, what do you think?”

  “I’m not sure what I think – I’m a bit overwhelmed by it all, to be honest.”

  “Ah babe,” said Joe, pulling her closer and burying his face in the top of her head. “Your happiness is so worth this – all of this. I know how you’ve struggled lately.” He reached down and took her hand. “Come on, I’ve made a chicken salad for tea – we’ll eat it outside.” He grinned cheekily. “We’ll use the patio suite.”

  “Patio suite?”

  “The new patio suite. Come and see and while you’re trying out the new chairs, I’ll crack open your favourite peach wine.”

  Tiff followed him out of the room, completely dazed by his actions. “I can’t… I can’t believe you’ve done all of this,” she said, as she followed him down the stairs. “I’ve had a…”

  “Terrible day?” He finished her sentence for her. “I know. I mean, I can imagine you have and I’m so sorry about that.” He turned when he reached the bottom, placed his hands round Tiff’s waist and picked her up from the third step. Turning around, he kissed her softly, while she was still held up, and then carefully lowered her to the ground. “That was the one mistake I made today – leaving my phone behind.
I had so much going on in my head that I completely forgot to take it with me. I’m so sorry babe. I knew you would be thinking the worst of me all day.”

  “Where did you go this morning?”

  “Nowhere.” Joe sniggered. “I drove my car to the lay-by, back on Oakley Close, and waited for you to go.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve done all of this in a day. Has anyone helped you?”

  “Ah…” Joe pulled her through to the garden and around the corner, where he had hidden a grey, plastic whicker-style patio table and six chairs. “Just give me a hand to move this round – I didn’t want you to see it when you came home, so we hid it.”

  “It’s lovely,” said Tiff, still dumbfounded by the amount of work and secrecy Joe had put into the day and all, it seemed, for her benefit. “So, who’s ‘we’?”

  “Wayne.”

  “Really?” Tiff was more surprised by the fact that Joe had obviously formed more than just a casual, neighbourly/golf partner relationship with Wayne and they had actually become real friends.

  “Yes – couldn’t have done it all without him. He put the furniture together while I did the decorating.”

  Tiff shook her head disbelievingly, as they carried the table across to the patio and then returned to the corner to collect the chairs, one by one. “I am totally amazed by you, Joe Frey. I can’t believe you’ve done all of this, just to surprise me.”

  “Full of surprises,” said Joe, winking an eye, as he placed another chair at the table.

  “This patio set is just what I would have chosen and the bedroom…”

  “I know.”

  It suddenly hit her, like a gush of water smacking her in the face. He did know. He was more attentive than she’d ever given him credit for. Every tiny little detail of the bedroom, the tulips on the dining table, the patio set, the peach wine, the chicken salad, the al fresco dining, they were all things she’d mentioned at one point or another. All things she would like to have or to do, all her favourite things. Did she really deserve him?

  It no longer mattered. Her jealousy was something she had to sort out on her own. It was obvious that her envious trait was completely unfounded. Perhaps the goings-on with Georgie and Alvin had really tainted Tiff’s view of everything.