Good Neighbours, page 33
‘I’ve already been down to the beach, but I’d love to go with you this evening if that is what you are planning.’
‘Of course. It’s the reason I got back today.’
As the church clock struck ten, Nia settled Romeo and left the house. In her bag she had a candle and some fossils. As Nia stood waiting for Jade, she had the feeling that peace had been restored to the close.
The night was dark and still as Nia and Jade walked down through the close in silence until they reached the beach.
Nia was relieved to see it was empty. The sea was quietly rolling in, watching them. She lit the candle and put it in the place where, a year ago, she’d sat with Ruby. After a few moments Nia picked up the candle and used the wax to draw hearts on three different fossils she’d collected over time.
One she gave to Jade, one she kept but the third she took down to the sea. She placed it where the waves met the shore, watched the sea wash over it and said, ‘For Ruby. I send you love, and I send you peace… dance with the waves… whisper with the waves.’
As she said the words, she saw the moon was shining down on the fossil and as she watched it started to glow. Slowly the darkness was driven back until finally all that remained was light.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Firstly, an enormous thank you to you, my lovely readers, for taking the time to read Good Neighbours.
There are of course many other people to thank.
A huge thank you to my publisher Boldwood, to the whole team including Nia Beynon and Claire Fenby, who work incredibly hard and are always kind and helpful. A very special thank you to Sarah Ritherdon, for her belief and faith in my writing, for yet again taking the tangle of a first draft and working with me to craft this story. Thank you also, Sue Smith and Shirley Khan for your exceptional work editing, the cover designer and everyone involved in bringing this novel to life.
Thank you, Krissy Lloyd and all the staff, at Medina Books in Cowes, for your unending support of writers on the island. Your bookshop is a very special place, a treasure trove on our lovely island.
Thank you so much Maureen Parr for allowing me to use the name of your beautiful Cocker Spaniel, Romeo, and to everyone in one of the best ever groups: Cocker Spaniels On Facebook.
I would like to thank Isle of Wight photographer Steve Gascoigne of Available Light Gallery and Gifts for again generously donating a beautiful photograph to our competition. Thank you everyone on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, bloggers, writers and friends. Your kind words and reviews mean more than you can know.
Thank you so much Karen Cass for again adding a touch of magic with your wonderful narration of the audiobook.
On a personal note, I have, as always, to thank my wonderful husband and children, Thomas and Emily. You, more than anyone, see the highs and lows and are always there for a hug and coffee when I need it.
MORE FROM MARY GRAND
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The House Party, another gripping thriller from Mary Grand, is available to order now. Or read on for an exclusive extract…
Chapter One
Beth hurried towards the cliff edge, following the tiny solar lights that lit the path. She stopped at the fence, where Kathleen stood staring out at the sea. Beth paused, petrified of doing or saying the wrong thing.
Reaching out tentatively, she touched Kathleen’s arm.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she asked.
Kathleen swung round; no familiar smile or hug, her eyes wide with fear: an animal caught in a trap.
Beth wanted to put her arms around her but, for the first time in their long friendship, she wasn’t sure how Kathleen would react.
‘For God’s sake. I’ve been watching you all evening. Tell me what’s wrong,’ she repeated.
Kathleen ignored the question and waved up the garden towards the house. ‘What do you think of it?’
Beth looked at the giant glass cubes, each room brightly lit like a designer doll’s house. ‘It’s incredible. You and Patrick have worked so hard. I thought you’d be ecstatic now it’s finally finished.’
Kathleen didn’t answer, her expression the same one that had been painted on all evening: thin lips pressed together, wide-eyed, as if she hardly dared to breathe.
Beth frowned. ‘Sami told me you’ve given in your notice at the pharmacy. He didn’t understand why. You’re so good there. He’ll be lost without you.’
‘He’s just being kind. Anyway, he has his new partner now.’
Beth moved closer. ‘I don’t know what has been going on. We haven’t spoken properly for ages – it must be last November. I’ve missed you at yoga and our weekly catch ups.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Kathleen pulled her cashmere wrap around her shoulders and walked over to the swing seat. Beth followed her. The gentle rocking of the seat matched the sound of the sea dragging on the shingle far below. It seemed to sooth Kathleen, and she loosened the grip on her wrap.
Beth heard a soft, clucking, purring noise coming from a large hen coop. Kathleen looked over and said, ‘They’re settling in well. I collected a new baby yesterday. Well, a rescue.’ Beth saw a whisper of a smile and heard the soft Irish cream in Kathleen’s voice. ‘She’s in a cage within the coop. She’s in such a poor state, losing feathers; bless her. It’ll be good when they can come out of the run and roam, but I can’t let them out until we’ve put in the permanent fence.’
Beth glanced at the row of flimsy plastic fence panels. ‘I suppose so. Even a hen might knock those over, if the wind didn’t blow them down.’
‘I know, but it’s handy being able to move one or two panels when I come down to do my mindfulness in the morning. I can sit on the ground and look straight out to sea.’
‘At that time, I’m in old joggers and wellies feeding the guinea pigs and walking Ollie. Not quite so zen.’ Beth grinned, but it didn’t reach Kathleen. Instead the damp air seemed to cling to them, and Beth zipped up her fleece.
Laughter floated towards them. Beth saw that her husband, Sami, and the other adults had come outside, their teenage children choosing to stay in the comfort of the house. Beth was aware that Kathleen was now sitting very still, gazing intently at the group. Beth’s gaze, however, was fixed on the way Kathleen was winding her necklace round her finger, seemingly unaware that the heavy chain was digging deeper and deeper into the flesh of her neck.
Beth took hold of Kathleen’s hand until she let go of the chain. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before. What are you so frightened of?’
Kathleen flinched. ‘Not something, someone.’
‘Who?’
Kathleen looked down at the patio. ‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s somebody we both know. I don’t think you’d believe me.’
‘Really? Try me.’
‘It’s someone here at the house party.’
‘You can’t be scared of anyone here. We’re friends, we all know each other so well.’
‘I used to think that. But when I saw one of them do something, I realised I’d got them completely wrong. It’s like an art expert will spot a tiny error in a forgery: a signature in the wrong place or the wrong brushstroke. They know immediately it’s fake. That’s how it was.’
‘But you should have told someone. Didn’t you tell Patrick?’
‘No. I couldn’t do that.’ Kathleen looked away.
‘But then you should have told me. Why keep it to yourself?’
Kathleen started to play with her chain again. ‘You see, this person found out something I’d done. It was stupid, wrong, I was so ashamed. They said they would tell everyone if I even mentioned what I knew.’
Beth sat back stunned. She wondered how much her friend had been drinking.
‘I’m not drunk,’ said Kathleen, reading her mind. ‘I know it sounds incredible. These things don’t happen in our neat, orderly world, do they? Oh Beth, you are so lovely, but the world isn’t—’
Beth pushed the swing gently with her feet. ‘My life hasn’t been as perfect as you might think. But you can’t have done anything bad enough for someone to be able to use it against you.’
Slowly Kathleen lowered her hands, clung on to her wrap, looked down. ‘I did, I made a dreadful mistake. December was such a hellish month: first Amy died, then that damn skiing weekend. I was so unhappy.’
‘Oh God. Kathleen, why didn’t you tell me? I knew from your text you were upset about Amy’s accident, and that weekend away, but I never realised how bad things were. If I’d known, I’d have come to see you.’
‘The trouble was things happened so fast. After I sent you that text I did something really stupid. It was so wrong and all my fault. Afterwards I was too ashamed to tell anyone. I tried to live like it hadn’t happened even though the shame was gnawing away inside me every day.’
Beth wanted to grab Kathleen’s hand, tell her she knew exactly how that felt, but instead she said, ‘But it can’t have been that terrible—’
‘It was to me. I tried to imagine what you’d have said if I’d told you. Maybe you’d have tried to understand, but I was so frightened that I’d lose your friendship. It’s not something you’d have ever done.’ Kathleen started to pick at an imaginary thread on her wrap. ‘I thought if I kept quiet, tried not to think about it, it would be like it never happened. That was stupid, wasn’t it? The truth doesn’t go away. It sits there patiently, waiting for someone to stumble across it. Unluckily for me, that’s what happened.’
‘I still can’t believe you did anything that bad.’
‘That’s because you don’t know me, not all of me. If I’d been a better person, I’d have owned up to what I’d done. I know that a sin is a sin and all that, but this so-called friend has done far worse things than me. I’ve just been so frightened of losing everyone’s respect, my friends, my family, my life here.’
‘Can’t you at least try to tell me what you’ve done?’
‘I don’t know what to do. The other day I actually told this person that I was tired of it all, the lies, covering up, but you know what they did?’
Beth shook her head.
‘They laughed at me. I saw in their eyes, utter contempt, loathing. They told me I was pathetic, useless; like one of the millions of grubby grey pebbles on the beach that people trample on. They said if I was to so much as whisper what they’d done they would pick me up and flick me into the sea. I would disappear. Nobody would know. Nobody would care.’
Beth saw tears shining in Kathleen’s eyes. ‘Who said this? Please, tell me.’
‘I want to, but I’m so scared. Anyway, I don’t want to drag you into this mess. This person, this wolf, may turn on you then. You know that thing about fear making the wolf bigger? Well, I tell you, Beth, I have found out my wolf is far greater than my fear; its teeth are sharper, it is cruel, wicked.’
Kathleen pulled her feet up on to the seat, cuddled her knees into her chest and enveloped herself in her wrap.
Beth put her arm around Kathleen’s shoulders. ‘You need to tell me everything. I’m so sorry you’ve had to battle this on your own. You can’t be manipulated like this. I understand how you are feeling more than you know. Whatever you’ve done, I’m always on your side. I will fight for you.’
Kathleen reached out slowly, placed her hand on top of Beth’s. ‘If you really mean that, then maybe I will. I can’t go on like this.’
Beth removed her arm from around Kathleen’s shoulder and placed it on top of her hand as if making a pact. ‘I promise, but you have to tell me everything.’
Patrick’s voice from the patio disturbed them, ‘What are you two cooking up?’
Kathleen snatched back her hand and stood up. Patrick, Sami, and the others started walking towards them.
‘You two have been down here for ages. What have you been talking about?’ asked Patrick again.
The others reached them quickly. Sami slipped his arm around Beth’s shoulders. He wasn’t much taller than her, he was losing his hair, he desperately needed to update his glasses, and she loved him very much. Moving closer to him, she felt like a sea bird sheltering in the nook of the cliff.
‘You all right?’ he asked. His accent was a warm mix of Iraqi and her own Swansea Welsh.
‘I think so.’
‘It’s beautiful down here in the mornings, isn’t it, Kathleen?’ said Patrick. He turned to the others. ‘She’s down here every day at about quarter to seven for her mindfulness if you want to join her.’
There was a muffled laugh, but no one spoke. As they walked back to the house Beth glanced at Kathleen. She was sure she saw a slight fixed smile as Kathleen walked stiffly next to Patrick, who had his arm firmly around her shoulders. Her friend seemed unable to move away.
Inside the house, Patrick grinned at Beth. ‘So, you approve of the new house? I can’t wait to get all my London friends here. They think the Isle of Wight is some sleepy backwater. Wait till they see this: make them think twice about their million pound one bedroom flats up there.’
Beth smiled warmly at him. Patrick probably cared too much about trying to look younger and trendier than he was, but she liked him, and he adored Kathleen. ‘They’ll be very jealous.’
‘I’m coming over to the Castleford house this evening.’ Patrick turned to Sami. ‘Could I cadge a lift back with you? My car is in the garage until tomorrow.’
‘I thought you’d sold the old house—’
‘Not quite, complete tomorrow. I want to give it one last clean. I’ve left an old mattress and a sleeping bag there.’
‘You’re welcome to a lift, but we were going to leave soon. The kids have school tomorrow.’
‘That’s fine. Things are wrapping up.’ He looked at Kathleen, a slight nervousness in his voice. ‘You’ll be all right here on your own?’
‘Of course. I must get used to it. You’ll be off again soon.’
‘Not so much now.’ Patrick turned again to Sami. ‘I’ve requested more work in the UK. I’ve done my stint of work abroad. No, me and Kathleen are going to make the most of our new home now.’
Beth didn’t want to leave without speaking to Kathleen again, or at least arranging to meet, but Kathleen had closed off. She didn’t seem to want to look at Beth.
It wasn’t until they were outside the front door that Beth finally caught Kathleen’s gaze. Kathleen put her hand on Beth’s and said, ‘You’ll keep your promise?’
Beth squeezed her hand. ‘Of course.’ She smiled, looking for one in return, but all she saw in Kathleen’s face was fear and dread. She resolved to speak to her soon and to find out what on earth was going on.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mary Grand is the author of five novels and writes gripping, page-turning suspense, with a dark and often murderous underside. She grew up in Wales, was for many years a teacher of deaf children and now lives on the Isle of Wight.
Visit Mary’s website: https://marygrand.net/
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First published in Great Britain in 2022 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
Copyright © Mary Grand, 2022
Cover Design: Head Design
Cover Photography: Shutterstock
The moral right of Mary Grand to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Paperback ISBN 978-1-80048-190-9
Large Print ISBN 978-1-80048-191-6
Hardback ISBN 978-1-80426-232-0
Ebook ISBN 978-1-80048-192-3
Kindle ISBN 978-1-80048-193-0
Audio CD ISBN 978-1-80048-185-5
MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-80048-186-2
Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-80048-189-3
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Mary Grand, Good Neighbours
