1
Emma
After my last relationship, I was looking for love in all the wrong places. Until I began to use Tinder. Until I found you, Alastair, and swiped right. It’s hard to find the perfect man. Men can be so controlling at times.
2
Jade
We move into our new house, Fairlawns. A large Victorian detached, near the river in Henley-on-Thames. Top-end comfort. Top-end price. Arriving in our Porsche, just as the removal men are entering the house with our walnut dining table, I look up and see a man and a woman standing at the side window of the house next door, staring down at us.
The woman is seriously tarty. Long blonde hair, bleached, not natural. Smelling of Botox. Not wearing very much clothing. Her short house coat does not leave much to the imagination. Very much your sort of thing, Tomas. Not a woman, but a stereotype. As I watch her looking down on us, I determine you will not get away with it again. Don’t even try it, I tell you with my eyes.
3
Alastair
‘Spill the beans, what are they like? Save me from getting out of bed,’ you say.
‘The man is a serious looker – like Jason Donovan in his prime, with darker hair and darker eyes.’
‘I’ll look forward to meeting him then.’
‘Watch it, Emma. You know I can’t cope when you admire other men,’ I joke.
‘And is there a woman?’
‘Yes. Big-boned. Neat-featured.’ I pause and continue staring out of the window. ‘Four removal men. Furniture coming out now. Expensive furniture.’
‘How do you know it’s expensive? Can you see the price tag?’
My stomach tightens, because money is an issue between us. Dentists earn far more than forensic scientists. Especially dentists who have inherited a lot of money. Top career. Expanding your dental practice to inject Botox and facial fillers, it all adds up. Whereas I’m always struggling. A child and a difficult ex-wife to support means any unexpected extra expense is a mountain to climb.
‘A walnut dressing table.’
‘Brown furniture isn’t as expensive as it used to be.’
‘It’s still expensive to me.’ I pause. ‘OK then, what about this? A fancy sofa. Candelabra. A racing bike.’ I press my face against the window. ‘A large box marked “Silver”.’
‘You sound as if you’ve got the binoculars out,’ you say, slipping out of bed, pulling your silk dressing gown across your naked shoulders and coming to join me.
Your cat Casper yowls from the bed. He doesn’t like it when you leave him. He follows you everywhere. Sure enough, seconds later, this special animal who looks like a cross between a baby polar bear and a tiger – stripy face and tail, fur like white candyfloss – leaps off the bed to join you, rubbing his head and body against your ankles. Smiling, you lean down to stroke him. You dote on him. I know he’s some unusual pedigree breed that you insist on not allowing out, but don’t you think that keeping a cat inside is a little cruel, however highly strung and dependent he is?
You put your hand in mine. I pull you towards me and kiss you. You taste silky. Like strawberries and cream. My erection stirs and I want you again. Even though I know you’re too good for me, every time I have you I want you again.
4
Jade
I walk around our new home. Almost everything is in place after the move. I set out towards the Stereotype’s house, to invite her and her partner over for supper. Time to get to know her. Time to see what I’m dealing with.
5
Emma
Dinner parties have never been my thing; trapped around a table making small talk. But my new neighbour Jade coerced me into accepting her invitation. With a nod of the head. With the solidity of her face. So at 8 p.m. on Friday evening, I find myself standing with you, Alastair, on Jade and Tomas’ doorstep, clutching a bottle of red wine and twelve yellow roses. The door opens. Jade. A big woman. Nearly six foot tall. Short dark hair. The ‘make-up-is-a-sin’ type.
‘Do come in,’ she beams.
We step inside a hallway of mirrors and lights. I hand her the roses and wine.
‘You shouldn’t have,’ she says, voice so hard I almost guess she means it.
She leaves them on a glass dresser as we follow her along the hallway. Through the dining room. The table is laid for supper. Silver mats. Silver goblets. Heavy silver cutlery. A centrepiece of shiny black orchids. We arrive in a large sitting room containing toffee-coloured sofas draped with cowhide, which scream against the period of the house. Why did they choose a Victorian house when they own furniture like this? Jade’s husband is standing by a cocktail bar built of oak, with brass cupboard handles. I’ve only ever seen anything like this in 1970s sitcoms.
‘What can I get you?’ Tomas asks. His eyes sparkle at me. ‘We’ve got everything. Beer. Cocktails. Bubbles.’
‘Bubbles, please.’
‘And you, sir?’ he asks, turning to you.
‘Beer please, mate.’
Jade is standing by Tomas’ side, back straight, hands by her side. She is wearing a simple black cotton shift with a belt. Too plain. Too simple. Clothing suitable for a funeral. Not much fun for a Friday night supper.
Tomas fixes our drinks and we sit down. Couples together on opposing sofas.
‘You look pretty organised. How are you settling in?’ I ask.
‘I can’t function if things are out of place. I’m a bit OCD. Aren’t I, darling?’
Tomas stirs uneasily. ‘Isn’t everybody? No one likes their house to be a mess.’
‘Where did you move from?’ you ask.
‘Hampton Hill.’
‘And what made you choose the Thames Valley?’
‘Why do you ask that?’ She leans forward and pushes her eyes into mine. ‘Are we the new neighbours from hell, or something?’
I shake my head. ‘No. No. I just wondered whether it was a job thing?’
‘The job conversation always feels like pulling teeth.’
‘That’s an apt thing to say to me, because I’m a dentist,’ I say, trying to keep things light.
She shrugs. ‘OK. So now, thanks to you, we do the job thing.’
I stiffen inside. I didn’t mean to offend her. You glance across at me. He puts his beer on the table in front of him, leans back and folds his arms.
‘It’s fine with me. I’m a forensic scientist. I’m happy to tell you what I do. What’s wrong with talking about work?’
‘It’s good with me, too,’ Tomas smiles. ‘I work in the City, as a hedge fund manager.’
Jade gives her husband a look, to scold him for joining in.
Not wanting her to get away with this, ‘What do you do?’ I ask.
A saccharine smile. ‘Since you’re wanting to judge people by their jobs, why don’t you try to guess?’
‘Are you an estate agent?’
She shakes her head.
‘Travel agent perhaps?’
‘No.’
‘Teacher?’
Her head continues to shake.
Frustrated by this silly game, ‘Circus acrobat?’ I suggest.