The New Neighbours

by Costeloe Diney

  “Sit down, Chantal.”

  Chantal sat.

  “Now I want you to tell me where you were last night, and who you were with.”

  This seemed to Chantal to be a dangerous opening, but she reached for her mug of coffee and said as lightly as possible, “I told you. It was Mad Richmond’s birthday. I went round for a drink.”

  “Where?” demanded Angela. “Where did you go for this drink?”

  Oh, shit, thought Chantal, she must have seen Mrs Hammond. “Just to the pub for a quick one.” Her eyes slid away. “I drank coke, that’s all.”

  “Is it?” Angela said flatly. “Then what happened?”

  Chantal wondered how much Angela knew about the events in Dartmouth Circle last night. It didn’t really matter, she’d know the main part soon enough from everyone else. What she might not know was what Chantal herself had been doing. Not many people knew that, and none of those would be likely to discuss it with Mum. She decided on the edited version. “There was a party, at the Madhouse. It was a bit noisy, and someone, probably old Ma Colby, called the police.”

  “And?” prompted Angela.

  “And they came. They turned off the music and so everyone went home. Mum,” Chantal realised that she must find out, “what is all this about?”

  “It’s about a visit I’ve had from the police this morning,” replied Angela. “It’s about the fact that they found you in bed with some student called Dan. It’s about the fact that you’d been smoking hash. It’s about the fact that I trusted you to go round to friends and you… you… Chantal, how could you? How could you behave like that? You’re only fifteen. Supposing you’re pregnant as well!”

  “I’m not,” said Chantal flatly.

  “What?”

  “I’m not pregnant,” Chantal said. “I came on this morning.”

  “Well thank God for that,” Angela said in heartfelt tones. “But that doesn’t make things much better. You’re under age. This Dan, whoever he is, may well be prosecuted for what he did. You lied to the police, you’re in big trouble. It may all come to court.”

  She had finally got through Chantal’s defences. The girl went pale. “Court?” she echoed. “I told them I was seventeen. That woman believed me!”

  “No, she didn’t,” sighed Angela. “That’s why she came round here this morning, to check up with me.”

  “And you told her?” Chantal said incredulously.

  “She asked me your age. I told her. Why should I lie? I didn’t know you had, did I?”

  “And I might have to go to court?”

  “I don’t know,” admitted Angela. “Maybe.” She looked across at her daughter. “Oh Chantal, what on earth happened? How did you get into such a situation?” She blinked hard, but the tears that had been threatening ever since the conversation had begun finally overflowed and ran down her face.

  Chantal began to cry too. “I’m sorry, Mum. Really. I did have a drink, when we were at the pub. I had rum and coke, I thought it was just coke at first and then, well there was a crowd of us having a good time and it didn’t seem to matter. I mean, like, even Mrs Hammond was there, it was just a laugh. Then we went back to Mad’s for a party and, like, well it just sort of happened.”

  At that moment, Annabel came downstairs and found them both in tears.

  “Mum? Chantal? What’s happened?”

  “The police came round,” Chantal cried. And Annabel knew then that her mother knew everything. For a moment she felt helpless, she looked at them both sobbing and knew she couldn’t cope on her own. With sudden resolution she crossed to the phone and dialled her father’s number.

  “Dad? It’s Annabel.”

  “Hello, Polly. This is a nice surprise.” Ian wondered if Angela had changed her mind and decided to tell the girls what was happening before he arrived.

  “Dad, can you come round? Mum needs you.”

  “Polly? What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

  “Dad, just come,” Annabel said, and was relieved to hear him say, “I’m on my way,” before the line went dead.

  “Dad’s coming,” she said.

  When Ian arrived in Dartmouth Circle, he found a very subdued family waiting for him. It was clear that the girls didn’t know anything about him and Angela getting back together. He walked up into the living room, and Chantal flung herself into his arms crying, “Daddy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He held her close and looked over her shoulder first to Angela and then to Annabel. Neither of them spoke. He gave his attention back to Chantal.

  “Come on, love,” he said soothingly as she continued to weep on his shoulder. “It can’t be that bad, whatever it is. Let’s sit down and you must tell me what all this is about, eh?” He led Chantal to the sofa and sat her down next to him, still holding her hand. “Now then,” he said and looked expectantly at them all.

  It was clear that Chantal wasn’t going to explain, so as quietly and unemotionally as she could manage, Angela told him what had happened, finishing up by saying, “It’s my fault. If I’d been at home myself it would never have happened. I’d have gone over to the party and fetched her home.”

  “No, Angela, it is not your fault,” Ian said firmly. “Chantal lied to you about where she was going. She knows she shouldn’t be drinking, and she certainly knows she shouldn’t be going to bed with anyone. Any blame for what has happened is entirely hers.”

  Chantal turned on him. “That’s not fair! You never said anything like that to Annabel, and she’s pregnant!”

  “You don’t know what I said to Annabel,” Ian replied briskly, “and it has nothing to do with you, or with the present situation.” He glanced across at Angela. “And I am not letting your mother blame herself for something that is entirely your doing.” He spoke to Angela before she could protest and said, “Even if you had been here, you wouldn’t have known what Chantal was doing.”

  “I’d have realised she must be at the party, and I gather that could be heard all over the Circle.”

  “I doubt if you’d have gone and got her, even so. You’d have waited for her to come home and given her a rocket then. It was not your fault.” He could see he hadn’t really convinced her, so he went on, “All we can do now is wait and see what happens. We’ll just have to hope that the police don’t take any further action.”

  “And if they do?” asked Chantal tearfully.

  “If they do, we’ll deal with it when the time comes. In the meantime, we want a promise from you, young lady, that you will have nothing else to do with the students over the road, is that understood?” When Chantal merely nodded he repeated, “Is that understood, Chantal?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” But her look was mutinous.

  “Good.” He said, ignoring the look. “Now, your mum and I have something to tell you.”

  “Ian, I’m not sure now’s the time,” Angela began.

  “I am,” he said firmly. “It’s definitely the time. The next few months aren’t going to be easy, one way and another. We need to be a family again.” He stood up and looked at each of his daughters, “Polly, Chantal. I have behaved very badly to you and to Mum. I know it and I’m very sorry. I want to ask you if you can forgive me, and if I can come home again.” Both girls stared at him and then looked across at Angela.

  “What does Mum say?” Annabel asked quietly.

  Angela smiled. “Dad and I have done some serious talking. We’ve been seeing each other…”

  “Seeing each other? Like on a date?” interrupted Chantal angrily.

  “Without telling us?”

  “Yes,” Angela admitted, “like on a date. We didn’t tell you in case things didn’t work out.”

  “And have they?” demanded Chantal. “Where’s Desirée? What’s happened to her then?”

  “She’s gone,” Ian said.

  “Well I wish she’d never come,” Chantal said fiercely.

  “So do I,” her father said. “I wish I’d never set eyes on her.”

  “I suppose Mu
m was with you last night,” Chantal muttered angrily.

  “Yes, she was,” Ian admitted. “It was when she finally agreed to let me come home.”

  “She stayed the night with you, didn’t she?”

  “Chantal…” began Angela.

  “She did,” Ian answered coolly. “It’s when we started our life together again.”

  “So does this mean you’re coming back to live with us here?” demanded Chantal.

  “If you’ll have me,” he answered.

  “Mum?” Annabel looked again to her mother.

  Angela moved over to Ian and took his hand, then she turned to her daughters, her eyes shining. “I want it more than anything in the world,” she said simply.

  Annabel hugged both her parents. “I’m so glad,” she kept saying, “I’m so glad.”

  Chantal stayed where she was on the sofa and shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she said, “as long as you don’t push off again.”

  Ian took her hands in his and looking her straight in the eye said, “That is one thing I can promise you. I will never willingly leave any of you again.”

  “So, when are you coming home then?” Chantal still spoke belligerently.

  “Next weekend? When I’ve packed up my things and sorted the flat?

  Would that be all right?” He and Angela had decided to give the girls a week to get used to the idea of his return, before he actually moved back into the house.

  “I think you should come now,” Annabel said. “Today. I’ll come and help you pack some stuff this afternoon if you like. We can do the rest another day.”

  Ian looked at Angela and his heart turned over at the love he saw in her eyes. “Take Annabel and get your stuff,” Angela told him. “Chantal and I will be waiting here when you get back.”

  He felt the tears pricking at his own eyes and he pulled Angela into his arms, holding her tightly for a minute before he let her go and said with a choke in his voice, “Come on, Polly! What are we waiting for?”

  Twenty-three

  Anthony Hammond stared in through the front door of the Madhouse, almost unable to believe his eyes. But there was no doubt it had been Jill whom the police were shepherding upstairs with the student, Ben, the one who’d been doing the gardening and the odd jobs around the house. He’d called her name and she’d looked out at him briefly before going on up the stairs. Paul had seen too and probably David Redwood, though neither of them said anything. Sheila Colby had certainly seen them.

  Feeling sick, Anthony turned away. Jill had been in that boy’s bedroom. Boy! He wasn’t a boy of course… that man’s bedroom. It was past one o’clock in the morning, and she had thought that he, Anthony, wouldn’t be home tonight. Anthony Hammond had no doubts as to what his wife had been doing that evening, and he felt sick and angry and hurt as he turned away into the darkness to hide his confusion.

  Paul put his hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “I’d go home if I were you,” he said gently. “There’s nothing more for you to do here. I’ll chivvy the rest of them home.”

  Anthony gave a bitter laugh. “It’s too late now,” he said. “They saw her as clearly as I did. It’ll be all round the Circle by breakfast time.”

  “She’d probably only dropped in on them for a drink,” Paul said, but even as he said it he realised just how stupid it sounded.

  “I think I will go home,” Anthony said as if Paul hadn’t spoken. “As you say, there’s no more to be done here.” He moved away from the group that still hung about outside the front door, and as he did so, he heard Paul saying to the others, “Well, the noise has stopped, we’d better be getting home. You’ll catch your death of cold out here, Sheila, in that dressing gown.”

  Anthony let himself into the house, and went up to the sitting room to wait for Jill. Perhaps she wouldn’t come. Perhaps she’d stay with him, Ben. He didn’t know, so he sat down in the armchair to wait and see. He lost track of the time, but at last he heard the front door open and close quietly, and then the sound of footsteps coming softly upstairs. Jill paused as she reached the top and looked across at him, sitting silently waiting for her.

  “Where’ve you been?” he said at last.

  “You know perfectly well where I’ve been,” she replied shortly, coming into the room and leaning on the back of the other armchair. “At Mad Richmond’s birthday party. You saw me.”

  “Yes, I saw you. I saw you coming out of that downstairs bedroom with Ben Gardner. What the hell were you doing in there?”

  “What the hell do you think? I was fucking him!” Jill’s guilt poured out of her in anger, in language she would never normally use. She knew Anthony had every right to be furious, but she was still angry with him for making her spell it out.

  “For Christ’s sake, Jill,” he exploded, “what kind of talk is that?”

  “The truth, Anthony. I was in bed with Ben when the police banged on the door.”

  “But why? Was it the first time?” He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “What the hell were you doing at a student party anyway? Christ!”

  So many questions. Jill rubbed her face with her hands and then looked at her husband, sitting looking so bewildered in his chair. “I went to the pub because Mad Richmond asked me to, to help celebrate her birthday,” she began slowly.

  “But why? Why did she ask you?”

  “I saw her at the rugby pitches this afternoon.” Was it only this afternoon? Jill was amazed, so much seemed to have happened since she’d been walking with the children round the rugby ground just so that she could have a sight of Ben. “We were chatting. I mentioned you were away for the weekend and she said don’t stay in on my own, come to join them in the pub for her birthday, so I did. We all had far too much to drink.”

  “And?” prompted Anthony when she seemed to have come to a halt.

  “And, when the pub shut the party moved to Dartmouth Circle. Ben and I… well we didn’t join the party.”

  “So you were drunk.” Anthony said flatly. “Is that your excuse?”

  He was offering her an explanation, a reason why she might have done what she did, but Jill knew there was no point in half-truths now.

  “No,” she said, “I’d had a lot to drink, but I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t the first time.”

  “You knew what you were doing,” repeated Anthony.

  “I was…” Jill paused to choose her words, “I was in bed with Ben.”

  “Having sex.”

  “Yes.”

  “And it’s happened before.” It was a statement, not a question, and Jill simply nodded her head.

  “How long has it been going on?” asked Anthony wearily.

  Jill shrugged, “A few weeks,” she said. “Since he came to work for us.”

  “In this house?”

  “No.”

  Anthony’s shoulders seemed to sag as he took in what Jill was telling him. “What happens now?” he said bleakly.

  Jill shrugged again. “That’s up to you, I suppose.”

  “Up to me! Don’t be ridiculous, Jill!” he snapped, his anger re-kindled “There’s more to this than you and me. What about the children, or had you forgotten about them? Does Nancy know?”

  “No one knows,” Jill said quietly.

  “Well, they bloody well do now,” retorted Anthony. “Half the Circle saw you come out with him, and as old Ma Colby was in the crowd, the whole world’ll know tomorrow. Oh God, Jill what a mess.”

  “I’m sorry, Anthony…”

  He cut her off. “Are you? Are you really, or just sorry I found out. Oh Jill, how could you do this to me… to us? You know I love you… I thought you loved me.”

  “I did… I do. It was just that, I seemed to have lost you. You never seem to have time for me anymore, and Ben… well Ben just got into my blood.”

  “Got into your blood!” repeated Anthony. “How very dramatic! Got into your blood.” He stared at her for a minute and then asked, “Is it because I wouldn’t let you get a job? Is that
it? Is this your way of getting back at me?”

  “No! Of course not,” snapped Jill. “It was exciting, that’s all! He excited me as you haven’t done, haven’t had time to do, for months.”

  “So it’s all my fault,” said Anthony. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No. Yes… I don’t know. It just happened, right?”

  “And is it over… now that I know… or are you leaving me for him?”

  Jill was horrified. “No, of course I’m not. It was just an affair, that’s all, and it’s over now.”

  Just an affair! Anthony winced. How could she be so dismissive?

  “Does Ben know that?” he enquired.

  Jill thought of Ben as she’d left him in the hallway of the students’ house.

  “Will you be all right?” he had asked. “Do you want me to come home with you?”

  “No,” Jill shook her head, “I’ll be fine, really. I’ve got to face him some time, it may as well be now.”

  “And us? Will we… I mean shall I…?” Ben began.

  “No,” Jill said gently, “No, Ben, it’s over. I was mad to get involved, but…” her voice trailed off, and reaching up she kissed once more on the mouth, “Take care, I loved being with you,” she whispered, “but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  Ben’s expression had been a mixture of pain, anger and relief. There was going to be no drama, no scene, it was just all over. He held her for a moment, and then she slipped from his arms and, without looking back, she had walked away.

  “Yes,” she said softly, “he knows.”

  Silence settled round them for a long moment, before Anthony said, “Well, we’d better get some sleep. I can’t talk about this anymore just now.” He stood up. “If you’ll find me a pillow and a blanket, I think I’ll sleep down here for tonight.”

  “You don’t have to…” began Jill, but he interrupted sharply. “Yes, I do!” he shouted. “Christ Jill! You’ve spent this evening in another man’s bed, with another man’s prick inside you, and I do not intend to take you hot from his bed into mine… right?” he turned away. “Chuck the pillow and blanket down the stairs, I’ll talk to you in the morning.” When he saw she was going to say something else, he spoke through his teeth, “Not now, Jill. In the morning.”