Page 85 of Great Sexpectations
‘Excuse me?’ says a voice from behind us.
The voice makes me turn quickly, adopting a strange ninja pose, hands to the air. Have the paps found out where we live already? We turn to see a mother and young child standing there at the end of the drive.
Mum wipes the tears from her face with the palm of her hand. ‘Oh, hi.’ She walks towards them. ‘Josie, this is Leanne and Arlo. They live across the road. I remember you, you were a very good pumpkin at Halloween,’ she says, bending down to greet the little boy.
Dad and I are less certain about this interaction and he glances over to me. They may be here to borrow our hedge trimmer or tell us it’s bin day, but there is also the likelihood that they saw what happened and have things to say, possibly not nice things. I edge closer towards them. I don’t have Dr Sara’s punch, but I will chase them back to their house if they start anything.
‘We just wanted to say…’ Leanne starts hesitantly. ‘We saw you on television this morning and Arlo recognised you. And well, I just wanted to check you’re OK. What that man said was awful… really awful…’ Mum starts welling up again. ‘And, well, I thought you might like to see this…’
Dad walks over as the neighbour presents them with a picture. It’s a hand-drawn Mum and Dad dressed up at Halloween, holding sweets. Naturally, the proportions are all off as Dad is as big as our house, but the smiles, the bold bright colours are everything. Of course, this sets Dad off which concerns Arlo a little.
‘I’m sorry. I cry at everything. Arlo, this is lovely. I’m going to put it on my fridge! Thank you,’ Dad says. ‘I thought you’d come round with a torch to chase us off the street,’ he continues.
‘God, no,’ says Leanne, ‘You’ve always been lovely neighbours. Who cares about all of that? It makes you a darned sight more interesting than most. You could be drug dealers, bonfire enthusiasts, thrash metal rock fans… Those are the sorts you don’t want as neighbours,’ she adds, smiling. ‘Plus, I never knew you owned that company, my husband and I get the occasional bits from there…’ Her face now reddens, she’s possibly overshared, but hey, that seems to be the theme of the day.
‘Well, now you know… Josie can get you discounts. You could deliver right to their doorstep,’ Dad chips in.
Perhaps. Like Just Eat for love gloves? Now that’s a business idea.
We all stand there for a moment as little Arlo looks up at me. ‘I didn’t see you at Halloween,’ he says. ‘Do you live here too?’
‘I do.’
‘Where were you at Halloween?’
‘I was at a party instead.’
‘What did you dress up as?’ he asks, eyes full of questions.
‘A Ghostbuster…’
‘Like the song?’ He starts to hum it and I smile, tears in my eyes.
I’m not quite sure what to say. I’m so sorry. I guess you have an idea of what happened this morning from your dad, even if you didn’t watch it. Yes, that was me. And my mum. And that is what I really do. That’s my name. If you wanted to chat, then I’m here. I am sorry. I’m really sorry. If there’s a very small possibility you have no idea what I’m talking about, then please ignore this. I am sorry. I’m still me, really xxx
I look down at the message on my phone, sent at 2.33 p.m., three hours ago. I should have proofread it. Maybe I should have softened it with a joke or an emoji. Maybe I shouldn’t have desperately ended it with so many kisses. The stinger is the double green tick to let me know it’s been read but no reply.
‘Which number?’ my dad asks, his car slowly rolling down the road.
‘It’s that red block of flats there,’ I say, pointing.
He pulls the car to a stop and we sit there for a moment as I watch the lamp posts flicker to life, the dark starting to settle into the streets. It’s as I imagined, rows of low-rise flats, punctuated by windows lit up by the glow of their televisions.
‘Sherbet?’ Dad asks me, opening his glove compartment.
I nod and take a sweet.
‘Take more than one.’ He basically empties them into my lap.
‘Have you been to his place before?’
‘No. But Mum sent him some beers to say thank you for the Christmas gift. She had his address.’
‘Oh.’
‘Can we just sit here for a moment?’ I ask him.
He nods. We have sherbets, we’ll be fine.
