Page 10 of The Good Neighbour
Josh frowned. He was at a loss for what danger Polly could find herself in in Scotland. As he opened the door, he saw Mrs Wimpole wandering by with her Yorkshire terrier, Parkin.
Fuck.
Of course she clocked him immediately. He gave her a wave as cheerily as possible. Suzanne walked down the steps before stopping.
“We really do need you, Josh.”
“I know,” he replied. “I will be back as soon as I possibly can.”
As he watched her heading off down Queens Crescent, he sensed a presence next to him. There were no prizes for guessing who it was.
“Hello, Mrs Wimpole,” he said.
“Hello, Joshua,” she replied. “It’s very nice to see your face at long last. I was beginning to get really concerned.”
He cared very much for his neighbour. A kind woman with an edge of steel, Mrs Wimpole viewed anything that went on in Queens Crescent and the surrounding area as her business. To be fair to her, she had intervened in most of his neighbours’ lives for the good. Yet, he didn’t feel like being managed just yet.
“Sorry if I’ve worried you, Mrs W,” Josh said. “I needed some time alone.”
Mrs Wimpole nodded. “We all must have that from time to time. It’s important to know when that must pass or we will find ourselves completely out of step with the real world, and that would never do.”
He nodded. “I agree. I’ll be in circulation again soon. I promise.”
“No man is worth the sacrifice of one’s dreams,” she said, quietly. “Now I’ll leave you be.”
“Where are you off to?”
“The British Library,” she replied. “The Professor wants to find an obscure text on?—”
“Let me guess, Charles Dickens.”
Mrs Wimpole nodded. Their neighbour, who everyone affectionately called the Professor, was a leading expert on Dickens. Josh found it surprising that The British Library even housed a book that the Professor hadn’t read. Seemingly it did.
“Got it in one,” she said. “The poor man is obsessed. I’ve never been a huge fan but I like to accompany him. It gets one out of the house.”
Again, she treated him to a loaded stare. Mrs Wimpole rarely used the subtle approach.
“Well, have a nice afternoon,” Josh said.
Before she could engage him any further, he walked up his steps and into the house. He didn’t like to be rude to Mrs Wimpole as he had a lot of respect for her. However, he wasn’t quite ready for her line of questioning. She brought a new meaning to the word insistent.
He wandered into the kitchen and set about clearing his and Suzanne’s mugs. The notion of returning to work gnawed away at him. He would be quizzed on every minute detail, especially by the ever-nosey Jean-Paul. That much was evident. However,perhaps he had to grasp the nettle. Being a prisoner in his own home had become monotonous.
The solicitor’s letter lay on top of the microwave where he’d shoved it upon first reading. He had no desire to go through it again. If Winston wanted a divorce, there wasn’t a lot that Josh could do to persuade him otherwise.
Is that what I really want?
Confusion reigned supreme in his mind. He had no intention of asking Madeline’s opinion. She’d already made it very clear there was no room for Winston in Josh’s life anymore. As easy as that.
Suddenly a hammering on the front door disturbed him. At first, he thought it might be Winston. Hardly, he had a key. It was far too insistent to be Madeline or even Mrs Wimpole.
He dashed down the hallway and opened the door.
There stood an incredibly handsome man. He had short platinum blond hair and a tan that people would pay a fortune for. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties. It was the total panic on his face that Josh noticed the most.
“Can I help you?” Josh asked.
“Oh fuck, I hope so.”
