The Good Neighbor Read online

  But as she approached, she could see that one of them was slightly pushed inward. Leah put her hand on the cold metal loop set in the gate and shoved. To her relief it swung in easily and she was standing in a gravelled courtyard in front of a very modern three-storey house. Much of its frontage was glass and the small percentage of wall visible appeared to be made of a dark slate. Bare wisteria branches twisted along the guttering beneath the roof and three green plastic overflow barrels were positioned below. A dark blue car and a silver car were parked to the left of the property.

  There were lights on in the downstairs and upstairs rooms and the gravel was sufficiently lit for her as she noisily crossed it to the wide canary-yellow front door. She examined the frame for a doorbell, couldn’t see one, so urgently rapped the heavy knocker three times.

  No sound from within. Maybe whoever lived here was in bed and left the lights on as a deterrent. Leah knocked again. She waited, strained her ears and realised how fast her circulation was still pumping.

  Rain started falling harder and she turned back to the gate as a car sped past. She waited for the sound of their engine to recede. The body of the deer clearly hadn’t been an obstruction. The canopy of trees over the courtyard twitched as fat droplets burst on the gravel.

  The door clicked and Leah turned, relief filtering through her as it started to open. She just needed a phone. It halted briefly, as if the owner were hesitating, then it swung wide.

  A man was standing in the doorway and briefly Leah didn’t know how to begin. His features frowned at her, fair brows knitted over pure green eyes. But his expression wasn’t hostile. He was probably in his early forties but maybe it was his deep tan that made him appear older. Fine yellow hair covered his ears, almost touching his shoulders, and was parted to neatly frame his face.

  ‘I’m so sorry to knock on your door at this time of night.’

  He didn’t respond but patiently raised his eyebrows.

  ‘The gate was ajar and you’re the nearest house.’

  ‘Are you … OK?’ His face wrinkled in concern.

  Leah realised she was clenching her fists, which she always did when she was trying to keep it together. She did it a lot when she was talking to Elliot. ‘Just a little shaken. My car hit a deer just back there on the road.’

  His mouth formed an ‘oh’ shape.

  Leah didn’t give him time to speak. ‘It’s dead but I managed to pull it out of the way. I need to let the police know because it might be a hazard to other drivers. My car’s off the road too. The wheel’s damaged. I tried to free it, but it rolled down into the ditch.’ Too much info. Stick to why you’re here, Leah. ‘My phone battery is flat. Could I please borrow your phone or just plug mine in?’

  He was already stepping back to let her enter.

  ‘I couldn’t charge it on the train. I tried to. I just need to let my husband know where I am.’

  He was nodding, gesturing her into the brightly lit hallway. ‘Of course, come out of the rain. Do you need me to call you an ambulance?’

  ‘No, I think I’m fine, thanks.’ Leah stepped inside the house. An exotic savoury dinner aroma hit her at the same time as the warm atmosphere. ‘So sorry to disturb you.’

  He shook his head. ‘Phone’s right there.’ He closed the door and indicated the small table beside it where a handset stood in a charging unit.

  ‘I’ve got the plug for this.’ She took the phone out of her handbag.

  He waved that away. ‘Use it to make whatever call you need.’ But his eyes dropped to her hand.

  In the hallway light she could now see how much thick blood daubed the heel of it and the sleeve of her jumper. ‘Oh God. It was all over the car.’

  His green eyes darted between her hand and the phone unit. ‘Maybe clean yourself first. In there.’ He nodded to a door beside the coats hanging on the wall.

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind, thank you. I’ll be very quick.’ She put her phone back in her handbag.

  ‘It’s no problem. Take your time.’

  ‘One minute.’ A light came on automatically when she opened the door. The room behind it was bigger than Leah expected but still only contained a toilet and a sink. She entered, closed it behind her and put her handbag on the shelf under the mirror. She turned on the tap and water ran down the length of half a shiny open steel pipe and trickled into the dark slate sink. She’d left blood on the chrome tap but concentrated on cleaning her hand first. The water turned red as it flowed from her fingers. Leah held the edge of her sleeve under the stream and squeezed the black wool. It was saturated and the water went darker.

  She took a breath and felt her stomach smart. Catching her reflection in the mirror in front of her Leah was shocked at her transformation. Her pinched, white and grubby complexion looked deathly pale. Her dark brown locks had been neatly straightened and clipped to the top of her head when she’d got in the car at the station but now hung at the sides of her head. She removed the gold clip and released her hair, but it had already curled and clumped in the damp air. She looked deranged. And despite the welcoming smell of the house the aroma of the deer was still about her face.

  Leah turned on the warm tap and the heat travelled through her from her fingers. She splashed some onto her face. Rubbed it around the edges of her nostrils. Her fingers shook while she did it.

  ‘OK in there?’

  She rubbed her aching neck. ‘Fine. Coming now.’ After cleaning the tap, Leah took the tan towel hanging on the brass warmer rack beside the sink and dried her face. It smelt of coconut and, momentarily, she wanted to leave it there. She quickly dried her hands. They were clean now, but the sleeve felt cold and heavy on her arm. She pulled it down and wrung it out, dried her arm then replaced the towel as neatly as she could.

  Leah took a breath, picked up her handbag and then walked back into the hallway.

  The owner was just relaying his address. He hung up. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I just called the police.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘Oh … thank you.’ Was that because of the blood on her hand or was he just being helpful?

  ‘Told them you’ve pranged a deer. They’re sending a patrol car as soon as they can but said it might be a while.’

  ‘I’m worried somebody else might hit it. As I said, I did drag it away from the road. Can I quickly call my husband?’

  ‘Of course.’ He extended his tanned hand and the phone.

  Leah took it from him. ‘Thanks.’ She quickly dialled Elliot’s mobile and pursed her lips while she waited for a reply, taking in her host a little more. He was wearing a smart navy-blue shirt, open at the collar, black slacks held up by a belt with a gold buckle, and a pair of casual bottle-green linen slip-ons with white rubber soles that looked incongruous with the rest of the outfit. Clearly his comfy home footwear.

  Elliot’s phone went to his answering service. She waited for the robotic voice to finish telling her that the person she was calling was unavailable and waited for the beep. ‘Elliot. It’s just me.’ Her tone was neutral. She smiled at her host who remained in the hallway. Behind him was a staircase carpeted in sage green. ‘I’ve had a little accident in the car. Nothing serious but I might be home later. I’ll explain everything to you then.’ She hung up. ‘Thank you.’ She handed the phone to him. ‘Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Leah Talbot.’

  ‘Martin Tate.’

  There was an awkward moment as they both considered if they should make the introduction official.

  ‘I understand if you don’t want to shake hands. I live just up the road, in Forley. Have been for the past seven years. In Minster Street. Near the railway bridge.’ Too much information again, Leah.

  He regarded her blankly.

  ‘By the Black Horse Inn.’

  Recognition flickered in his eyes. ‘Yes. I do know it.’

  ‘I sometimes drive past here on my way to the station and I’ve always wondered what’s behind these gates.’ Oh God, that sounded stalky.


  He smiled kindly. ‘So, we’re virtually neighbours.’

  ‘Yes. Pretty close neighbours.’ Leah told herself to dial it back. She’d be producing her passport in a moment.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ He squinted at her suspiciously.

  ‘Fine.’ She took a breath. ‘Just … shaken, I think.’

  ‘Can I at least help you get your car back on the road?’

  She took in his groomed appearance. ‘No. I wouldn’t want to drag you out into the rain. Besides, I don’t think it’ll move very far.’

  ‘By calling roadside repair, I meant.’ A smile briefly registered as he brandished the phone. ‘I don’t have a lot of experience in car mechanics.’

  ‘Of course. I’m with the AA but I think I left my card in the car.’ She rummaged through her handbag but knew it wouldn’t be there. Now her legs felt wobbly.

  ‘No problem. I could use mine and they can sort you out when they arrive. I don’t think you should be going back out there. This road’s treacherous enough in the daytime.’

  ‘That would be very kind.’

  ‘So your husband, he’s not at home?’

  ‘No, he’s out tonight.’

  ‘On Valentine’s night?’ Martin Tate seemed surprised.

  Valentine’s Day. She’d forgotten about that. It hadn’t had any significance for the past couple of years. She was about to make a scoffing comment but stopped herself. ‘Yes,’ she answered simply. He didn’t need any hints about her home life.

  ‘Come and have a seat. I hope you don’t mind me saying but you’re looking a bit pale.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ She held up a hand. ‘I’ve disturbed your evening enough.’ Her gaze went to the lit kitchen beyond.

  ‘It’s no problem. Just me here.’ He’d read her mind.

  ‘You live here alone?’

  ‘Put it this way, you’re not disturbing a romantic dinner.’

  That wasn’t an answer. Leah heard a small internal alarm bell. Her car was down the road and she hadn’t told Elliot in her message that she was inside a stranger’s house on Plough Lane.

  ‘Come and sit down while I call the AA.’

  Despite feeling light-headed, Leah nodded but didn’t move.

  He obviously sensed her unease. ‘Does my cooking smell that bad?’

  Leah was about to smile but at that moment a dog came down the stairs. It was a white and brown basset hound and its ears flapped about its head as it descended awkwardly.

  ‘He doesn’t bite either.’

  The animal slid down the last few green stairs on its stomach and made a beeline for Leah.

  She bent to pet the dog. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Her. It’s Sheila.’

  She tried to pat its head while it snuffled at her jeans. ‘Hi, Sheila.’ Leah held out her hand so Sheila could sniff it, but the dog ignored her. She stood up but felt giddy and staggered back.

  ‘Whoa.’ Tate caught her firmly by the arm.

  He had a very tight grip but as soon as she’d regained her balance, he released her.

  ‘Sorry.’ He pulled both his arms in as if he shouldn’t have touched her.

  ‘That’s OK. I think I do need to sit down though, if you wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘Just in here.’ He immediately turned and led her towards the doorway of the kitchen.

  Leah followed and found herself in a very impressive and modern space. More dark slate walls were broken up by bright white splash tiles behind the huge sink and cooking range. In the middle was a long breakfast bar and several stools. A half-eaten meal lay on it with a full bowl-glass of red wine beside it.

  Leah’s scalp prickled cold. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve interrupted your dinner.’ Her mouth felt dry.

  ‘Not at all.’ He pulled out a stool. ‘Sit yourself down.’

  But Leah stumbled, fell and blacked out before she reached it.

  Chapter Five

  Leah drew breath in anticipation of the fall and then realised she was sitting on an armchair in a completely different room. She sat bolt upright and grunted as her neck and stomach reminded her of the crash. Martin Tate held out a placatory palm to her. He was seated in an armchair opposite. He had the phone in his other hand.

  ‘Sure you wouldn’t like me to call you an ambulance?’

  ‘What time is it?’ Leah took in the lounge she was in. A large blank TV screen was mounted on the powder-blue wall before her and there was an ornate dresser covered with framed family photos to her left. To her right was an occasional table. Tate had placed her handbag there.

  ‘It’s OK. You’ve barely been out a minute.’

  Leah swallowed and rubbed her face.

  ‘I just caught you in time. You completely folded.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise. You’re obviously still in shock.’

  ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time.’ Leah tried to stand but immediately felt dizzy again.

  ‘Just stay there,’ he said firmly then smiled. ‘Take a breath. I really don’t have anything more important to do this evening. Are you sure you don’t want someone to take a look at you?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve got low blood pressure. It happens sometimes. Especially if I get out of bed too quickly.’ But Leah suspected there had been more to her blackout than that. The trauma of another car accident was never far from her thoughts.

  He nodded then rose.

  Leah felt a little uncomfortable as he looked thoughtfully down at her.

  ‘I’ll call the breakdown people, just stay there.’ Tate walked out of the room, the phone at his ear.

  Leah listened to him opening some cupboards in the kitchen while he relayed the situation to the AA and gave them his card number and address details. She felt so foolish but as she gripped the arms of the chair her vision fizzed yellow. Despite the obvious presence of an air freshener she could still smell the deer. She tipped her head forward to get some blood back into it.

  ‘Here.’

  She looked up and found Tate standing in front of her. She hadn’t heard him re-enter the room.

  ‘Do you like brandy? I don’t really know if it steadies nerves but that’s the extent of my first-aid skills, I’m afraid.’ He offered a cut-glass tumbler of it to her.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘How about a glass of red. I’ve got a bottle open.’

  ‘I don’t drink red wine. Too acidic for me. This’ll be fine, thanks.’ She took it from him.

  ‘Truck’s going to take five to ten minutes.’ He seated himself again, leaning back in the armchair and crossing his leg. ‘They’re coming here first. Or I could drop you home now if you’re not feeling up to it.’

  ‘I’ll be fine in a moment, really.’ She broke the silence by taking a gulp of the brandy. She swallowed too much of it and it burnt the back of her throat. Leah just managed to stifle a choke.

  Amusement played about his features again. ‘Can I get you some water or a hot drink?’

  ‘No, this is good.’ And it actually was. Leah normally hated brown spirits, like the whisky that Elliot collected and revered, but she could feel the liquid warming her all the way down and took another careful sip.

  ‘Do you want to try your husband again?’

  She shook her head definitively.

  Tate frowned.

  ‘He won’t be back yet.’ She couldn’t keep the dismissive tone from her voice.

  ‘He will be though?’

  Leah nodded.

  ‘I don’t like to think of you going home to an empty house after you’ve had such an ordeal.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. Honestly. Maybe I should go and wait outside.’

  Tate gritted his teeth. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’

  ‘You didn’t.’ She slid to the edge of the seat. ‘You’ve been very kind.’

  ‘Your choice. At least charge your phone before you go.’ He nodded to her handbag.

  She was sha
kily standing. ‘That’s OK. Now the breakdown guy is on the way I can charge it when I get home.’

  ‘It’s still raining hard out there.’

  It made sense to stay where she was, charge the phone and wait for the police and the breakdown truck in the house. Why was she so determined to leave? She lifted her handbag up by the strap and slung it over her shoulder. ‘Thank you for this.’ She placed the empty tumbler of brandy carefully on the glass-topped table.

  Tate stood but didn’t respond.

  ‘I’ll be fine. I shouldn’t have knocked on your door—’ Leah felt her legs crumple the way they had in the kitchen.

  He darted forward and caught her by her elbows, his grip firm as before.

  Leah attempted to straighten but it was him supporting her.

  ‘Take a breath.’

  She looked up at him, saw something beyond his concerned expression.

  ‘You’ll be fine.’

  Her eyes were on his mouth and she felt an almost irresistible compulsion.

  Chapter Six

  Their lips gently touched and Leah remained in his grip for a few seconds. Wanted to stay there. His mouth was warm. When had Elliot last embraced her? But then she tensed up and he released her.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Tate took a pace back.

  Leah looked down at his slip-ons.

  ‘That was inexcusable.’

  She shook her head, still didn’t make eye contact with him. Had he kissed her? Her mouth had met his.

  ‘That’s not … it’s not how I usually behave...’

  Her shoulders remained bunched, her gaze still at his feet. But shouldn’t she be apologising too? She looked up at him.

  ‘The police are already on their way if you’d like to report me for harassment.’

  Leah hefted her handbag again. ‘I’ll wait by the gates, if that’s OK.’

  He nodded, seemed to know she’d made up her mind. ‘OK. Let me at least give you an umbrella though.’

  Leah nodded once, relieved he was making her exit from the house easy. He gestured her ahead and followed her back into the hallway.