The New Neighbours

by Costeloe Diney

  That had always been his problem, it was his problem now, even with Monday’s deadline looming over him. He had promised the draft outlines of six more episodes of the sit-com he had written for a television company. The first series, written, ironically, just after Caroline had left, had been an instant success, much to Mike’s and the TV company’s surprise. What they had produced merely as a pot-boiler had caught the public’s imagination and there were demands for more of the same.

  When they had asked for the second series just before New Year, Mike had thrown a huge celebration party. He had invited everyone he knew, including everyone from the Circle. It was to be the beginning of his new life as a success. He hadn’t felt much of a success since Caroline had left, despite the TV series. He wondered if it was worse to be left for another man, traded in for a new and improved model, or to be left because you were just too awful to live with and that even living as a single parent with three children was an improvement. He knew that the former had happened to Angela Haven across the road; Ian had found someone else and she had been devastated. Mike imagined he could sympathise with her, yet somehow simply being left seemed to him worse.

  The party was in itself a success apart from a few minor irritations, like the younger Haven girl, Chantal, having too much to drink and being sick all over Oliver Hooper, who appeared to be exploring her attributes at the time. Luckily, her mother had already left, and he and the elder sister, Annabel, had cleaned her up, put her in Debbie’s old room to sleep it off, and as far as he knew no word of the disaster leaked out into the Circle. He had seen the girl’s grey-faced embarrassment when she had awoken in the morning and so he had refrained from teasing her. He had not taken Oliver to task either, except for making him help with the clearing up. Mike mentioned the incident to neither set of parents, there was no need to worry them with the teenage humiliations of their offspring and he had decided that the least said was soonest mended.

  Living apart seemed in a strange way to bring Mike and Caroline closer together. There were no rows, hardly a disagreement even over arrangements for the children. Mike found he always looked forward to seeing her when he picked up the kids, and she always seemed pleased to see him too, often asking him into her for a drink and occasionally a meal. He had even wondered for a while, whether they might eventually get back together again, but he made no move in that direction and Caroline, hearing about his succession of girlfriends from the children and from old friends, drew away from him, and gradually any real chance of reconciliation slipped away. Mike was fairly certain now that she had found herself someone else. The children never mentioned anyone, but

  Mike never asked and Caroline, he knew, would behave with complete circumspection.

  He sighed and, downing the last of his coffee, switched on his computer. He thought for a moment of Alison in the garden, pushing Harriet on the swing. Perhaps he should find himself someone like her, placidly comfortable with her family and her home, but even as he thought about it, he knew that much as he liked Alison, he would soon find her incredibly boring. Far better to play the field, enjoy life and feel no commitment to anyone. He smiled wryly as he returned to his sit-com where he could make anyone do anything he liked, and began to type.

  Paul Forrester had indeed left for work early that morning. He wanted to be in the office in particularly good time to look over all the projects he had on hand. He needed to have everything at his fingertips, details of recent sales, properties under offer and new properties just on the market. He wanted to be certain that all his paperwork was up to date, and that he had left nothing undone that he ought to have done.

  Last night a message had been waiting when he got back from showing a house in Over Stretton just outside Belcaster, that Mr Fountain, the senior partner, wanted to see him first thing in the morning, and Paul had the feeling that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant interview. Whispers of business difficulties within the firm and the possibility of redundancies had been buzzing round the office for some time now, rumours which fed on themselves until everyone was in a state of unease and Paul was afraid it was he who was going to be told that Johnson, Fountain, Estate Agents and Auctioneers, no longer required his services. It was always the same, he supposed, last in first out, and he wished yet again he had not allowed himself to be head-hunted away from Frederick Jones and Co where he had worked for the last ten years.

  He had been introduced to James Fountain at a Round Table dinner, and they had had an informal chat about the work he was doing for Freddie Jones, about his family, about his prospects. When he thought about it afterwards, he realised he had been naïve to assume that the conversation had been merely a friendly exchange. When James Fountain followed it up with an invitation to bring Alison round for dinner, however he realised there was more to it. They spent a very convivial evening meeting James’s wife, Monica, and business was hardly touched on, but both the Forresters felt they were on show.

  “Just making sure we don’t eat our peas with a knife, do you think?”

  Alison asked dryly.

  Paul laughed. “Probably. I wonder if we passed the test.”

  He was invited for a formal interview the following week and discovered that they had indeed passed the test.

  “We’re looking for someone young and enthusiastic, with good qualifications to come into the firm,” James said, leaning on his desk and studying Paul over his steepled fingers. “Someone who, all things being equal, would become an associate partner within the year. Someone who could turn his hand to any aspect of the business and perhaps take on the opening and running of a new office. Working for old Freddie, you’ve had just the experience we need. It’s been an excellent training ground for you, Paul, and from what I’ve heard around the town, you’ve certainly made the most of it.”

  Paul found he was holding his breath and let it out as softly as he could, hardly able to believe what he was hearing, not daring to guess what might be going to come next.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you moved on to bigger and better things?” James asked. “I assume you weren’t planning to stay as jack of all trades to Freddie forever, were you?”

  “No, well, that is, I’ve been very happy working for Freddie,” Paul admitted. “I hadn’t really thought about any career moves.” But he was definitely thinking about one now, and how they could do with the extra money which had been laid temptingly laid before him. Their comparatively recent move to Dartmouth Circle had stretched them a bit, but rather than lose the opportunity of living there, he and Alison had decided to go for it. If he moved to Johnson, Fountain, the pressure would be eased considerably. At the time it had seemed too marvellous an opportunity to turn down, a dramatic increase in salary and improved prospects as several of the older staff would soon be reaching retirement age. There had been mention of an associate partnership within a year or so, meaning yet higher earnings, and of opening and running a branch office in Belmouth, where Paul would virtually be his own boss. After long and excited discussions with Alison about this apparent up-turn in their fortunes he had handed in his notice to Freddie Jones and accepted James Fountain’s offer.

  “I’m sorry to see you go, Paul,” Freddie Jones had said and he had meant it. His firm was his own, a one man band, and he had relied heavily on Paul as a negotiator, selling houses and doing surveys, while he, himself carried out a few surveys, took the occasional auction and dealt with some local authority work. “But, of course you must seize the opportunity, I’m afraid I can’t match that salary, and I know how expensive a growing family can be. Alison doesn’t work, does she?”

  “Not at the moment,” Paul said. “We don’t want her to work again at least until the children have both started school. I shall be sorry to leave you, too, Freddie, but they’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Since he had made the change however, there had been an unexpected but definite downward turn in the property market and Mr Fountain had been overheard talking about the econ
omic situation and discussing “cuts”, all of which fuelled the current rumours.

  Paul hadn’t yet told Alison of his fears. After all, they might come to nothing and there was no need to alarm her yet, but while maintaining a cheerful face at home, he worried more and more about what he was going to do if he were given the push. It was unlikely any other estate agent in Belcaster would employ him; they were all suffering from the drop in the housing market, and if a large company like Johnson, Fountain was experiencing difficulties, what must some of the smaller firms be going through?

  As he waited to turn out into Dartmouth Road, he saw Mrs Peters sitting in her window and he gave her a wave. Paul liked Madge Peters. He admired her courage, living alone at her age, and occasionally, when asked, she had given him the benefit of her wisdom.

  Perhaps he should go and talk his worries through with her, Paul thought. She had a cool way of looking at things and considered all the options with a detached view that allowed Paul to get things into perspective.

  He had not discussed his move to Johnson Fountain with anyone but Alison until it was an accomplished thing. Perhaps he should have, he thought now, as he drew out into the traffic, for when he had told Madge about it, he had been aware that she was not as delighted with the move as everyone else seemed to be. Of course she had not said she thought he was wrong in so many words, but she’d expressed surprise, and said, “It all sounds very exciting, Paul, I do hope it will all work out for the best.” And for a moment the shine went off the enterprise.

  Although Paul was early, he had little time in the office to himself. Mr Fountain arrived soon after.

  “Ah, Paul, I’m glad you’re here. Come into my office will you?”

  Paul set aside the survey report he was working on and followed the senior partner into his office.

  “Sit down, Paul,” he said and seated himself behind the desk. “I expect you’ve some idea why I asked for a meeting this morning, haven’t you?”

  Paul had already decided to play the innocent and make James Fountain spell it out to him. “Not really, Mr Fountain, unless it was about the house at Over Stretton we’re selling for your friends. I was over there yesterday showing some people round, and Mrs Standen said that she was disappointed there hadn’t been more viewings.”

  James Fountain gave a short laugh. “No, it wasn’t that, though I’m not surprised to hear Margaret Standen was after you. She expected to sell that house immediately, but it’s overpriced; they want far too much for it. I’ve told them so, both of them, but of course they know better than we do. No, Paul it isn’t the Standens’ house I want to talk to you about, though their situation is indicative of the problems we face at the moment.” He looked across at Paul, and Paul held his gaze, saying nothing.

  “You know yourself the market is down at present. Very little is moving except at the very cheapest and the most expensive ends of the range. People can’t believe that their houses haven’t gone up in value, and if they don’t need to move they’re staying put in the hope of an upturn, and this of course affects us.”

  Paul shifted uneasily in his chair. Here it comes, he thought, I’m out! As if he had read Paul’s mind, James Fountain smiled a quick smile and said, “Don’t worry, Paul, I’m not giving you the boot. I’m delighted with the work you’ve been doing, but what I’m afraid I am saying is that we have had to shelve our expansion plans.”

  He went on to explain that there would be no new office opening in Belmouth, no new associate partners, and little chance of bonuses at the end of the year, but Paul hardly heard him, he was so relieved that he still had a job.

  “So, you understand, Paul, that things will have to stay pretty much as they are for the foreseeable future.”

  Paul gave himself a mental shake and forced a smile to his lips. “Yes, of course, Mr Fountain, I quite understand.”

  “Unless you want to try your luck for a partnership somewhere else?” James Fountain raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Then, of course, although we don’t want to lose you, we should have to let you go.”

  Paul shook his head. “No, thank you, Mr Fountain, I’d like to continue working here. Things may improve during the summer.”

  “Indeed, they may,” agreed Mr Fountain, with a thin smile, “but I don’t think we should count on it. I’m sure no one is expecting an upturn in the market in the short term.”

  “Was he hoping I would resign, do you think?” Paul asked Alison when he relayed the interview over the supper table.

  “I don’t know,” she replied, “but you didn’t, that’s the main thing.” She reached out and took Paul’s hand. “Look at it this way, Paul. Your still earning more than you were with Freddie. You still have a job in one of the biggest firms in the area. We’re all right. We don’t need you to be a partner, nice as it would have been. We can manage as we always have done. We’ve done OK so far, haven’t we?”

  Paul returned the clasp of her hand. “You’re right, of course. Let’s face it, this morning when I went into work I thought I might be coming home to tell you that I’d been made redundant.”

  “Ah, yes, well, that’s another thing. You should have told me. If you are worried about anything like that, for God’s sake don’t keep it to yourself. OK?”

  Paul smiled ruefully. “OK, I promise. Another time I’ll tell you.”

  “Let’s hope there won’t be another time,” Alison said with feeling. A comfortable silence enveloped them for a few moments and the Alison said, “I saw Mike Callow in the gardens today. He seemed to be fairly low. He says Caroline won’t let him have the children to stay. It’s sad, isn’t it? He was pushing Harry on the swing, and you could see he was really missing his own kids.”

  “They’re not Harriet’s age,” said Paul.

  “No, I know,” agreed Alison. “But that doesn’t stop him missing them. Can you imagine only seeing Jon and Harriet on alternate weekends?”

  Paul shook his head. “Doesn’t bear thinking about,” he said.

  “Tell you something else, while I was in the gardens with Harriet, I was watching the workmen at number seven. They seem to be doing a lot of work on that house. There was tremendous banging and hammering. They put a huge skip outside. It takes up the whole of their side of the drive.”

  “I bet that pleases old Mother Colby!” laughed Paul.

  “I didn’t see her,” Alison said, “but Shirley Redwood was cleaning her car the other side. She says David has met the new owner. He’s called Nick Richmond and is very nice. His daughter is called Madeleine and she’s going to live there with some other friends from college. I said to Mike, I hope some of them might want babysitting work.”

  “Doubt if they will,” said Paul. “Students go out drinking in the evenings, then come home rowdy and drunk.”

  “Paul!” Alison cried in disgust. “You’re as bad as Sheila Colby. You’ve no idea what they’ll be like. At least give them a chance.”

  As they lay together in bed later on, Alison thought over what Paul had told her about his job. She snuggled closely against him and said softly, “I really wish you’d told me about the problems at work.”

  Paul grunted. “Hhmm.”

  “No, I mean it. Listen—are you quite happy staying there now the job isn’t what you thought it was? I mean if you wanted to tell them to stuff it because they hadn’t kept their end of the bargain, you could, you know. We’d manage somehow. I could always get a job.”

  Paul reached his arm round her, holding her even more closely against him. “Darling, I’m sorry, I should have told you. I just didn’t want to worry you, that was all. I’m quite happy to stay at Johnsons. If I hang on in there, I should be in line for the partnership when the market turns the corner. It will in the end, just later rather than sooner, that’s all. We can easily manage without you getting a job. I really don’t want you to work while the children are so young.”

  “I know, and I agree, one of us should be at home for them, but it doesn’t necessarily h
ave to be me, does it?”

  She felt Paul’s incredulity in every line of his body, and then he relaxed and laughed. “Make me into a house husband, would you?”

  Alison laughed too. “Not unless I have to, but we can keep the idea up our sleeves, can’t we?”

  “Doesn’t fit into my sleeve,” Paul said with feeling, and they both laughed.

  It’ll be all right, Paul thought, still smiling, We’ll cope, we did before, and at least I’ve got Alison. Unconsciously his arm tightened round her now sleeping form. He remembered what she’d said about Mike Callow missing his children, and thought that he must be missing having a woman he loved beside him too. Poor old Mike, he thought, and despite his worries Paul drifted into sleep feeling a comfortable content.

  SEPTEMBER

  Ten

  Madeleine Richmond closed the door of number seven, Dartmouth Circle, The Madhouse, and let the silence settle round her. She leaned for a moment against the front door, her eyes closed, listening to thequiet peace and privacy of her first “own home”. The others were not due back for a couple of days and she felt a surge of proprietorial pleasure at being the first to live in the new house, entirely and completely her own person; answerable to no one. All the responsibilities of the house were hers, but her pleasure at being in charge of herself and her life far outweighed any worries she had about those responsibilities. She felt she was on the edge of something new and exciting, that over the horizon, only just out of sight was something amazing, and she only had to stand on tiptoe to get her first glimpse.

  “No more cash from me, Maddo,” her father had said. “You get your rents in and you’ll be better off than when you were on the allowance I was giving you last year, even after you’ve paid all your outgoings. Don’t forget all the bills are in your name, so it’s up to you, girl, to get it all sorted.”