The Watchful Neighbour - Debbie Viggiano Page 0,13

into a house move. But he’d sat by the cat flap, yowling plaintively until Jade had stooped down and unlocked it. She’d reasoned that the cat would likely just explore the garden before hopping back inside to cosy down and snooze. Jade made a mental note to make sure the cat flap was locked before setting off to her parents’ house.

At the end of her shift, Jade said goodbye to her colleagues and received some mumbled farewells back. None of them were friendly with her. They were too wrapped up in their own lives, wondering what to later watch on telly with their live-in boyfriends. Nobody at work rushed home simply to make sure their cat was okay.

It had rained on and off all day. When Jade let herself into 3 Gresham Terrace, she was pleased to see that Puddles was home. His wet fur indicated he hadn’t been back for long. She gave the cat a quick rub under his damp chin.

‘Hello, boy. Looks like you beat me back by a couple of minutes.’ The cat broke into a rumbling purr. ‘I hope you had a wonderful time exploring, matey, but now you’re in for the night.’

Straightening up, she made her way into the kitchen to lock the cat flap. But when Jade stooped down at the back door to do just that, she rocked back on her heels in surprise. The lock on the cat flap was already secured.

Chapter Eight

Jade had now lived at 3 Gresham Terrace for a whole week.

During this time, she’d only seen Greg Good once. He’d sought her out after the postman had delivered a paperback from Amazon while Jade had been at work. The postman had left the package behind a plant pot on Jade’s doorstep. Greg hadn’t been happy about it.

‘You’re letting the world know you’re not at home.’

His soft voice had grated on Jade’s nerves.

‘The package was out of sight.’

‘That’s the first place Mr Burglar checks when looking for clues on whether a targeted property is occupied or empty. You need to be more aware, Miss Ferguson. Next time you’re expecting a delivery, leave clear instructions that if nobody is home then a neighbour should take the package on your behalf. Gresham Terrace doesn’t need a visit from Mr Burglar.’

‘I don’t think “Mr Burglar”’ – Jade enunciated – ‘will visit when he knows you’re watching his every move simply because you have nothing better to do.’

Her tone had been pleasant enough, but her choice of words had been intentionally antagonistic.

Over the weekend she’d met a second resident of Gresham Terrace. Her path had crossed with a young guy as they’d both parked simultaneously outside their respective houses. As they’d stepped out of their cars, the man had nodded and then smiled at Jade before introducing himself.

‘Hey, there. You’re the new tenant at Number 3, right?’

‘Yes,’ said Jade, not wishing to prolong the conversation.

He’d introduced himself as Brad Grimshaw and told her he lived two doors down at Number 5. Brad had tried to engage Jade in dialogue, but she’d deliberately given little away about herself. However, he’d carefully slipped a couple of things in conversation about himself. Jade had learnt that Brad was two years older than herself, and single.

In Jade’s opinion, any man who was still a bachelor at the age of thirty was either weird, or a git like Tom Harrison. Every heterosexual thirty-year-old male that she’d ever known had either been living with a girl, engaged, married, separated or divorced and, if the latter, usually had a couple of kids hanging from the shirttails.

Brad had reminded Jade a little of Tom. Age difference aside, he had the same dark hair and eyes. Like most men of this age, Brad’s lower face had sported fashionable stubble. A part of Jade’s brain had grudgingly acknowledged that her twinkly eyed neighbour was good-looking.

Jade now pushed thoughts of Greg Good and Brad Grimshaw from her mind. It was Monday morning again. She was getting ready for work. That and tending to her usual ritual. In addition to arranging her perfume and lotion bottles in a perfect square, Jade had acquired a new habit.

In the last few days, before leaving the house, she’d been strategically placing a pair of running shoes by the front door. Jade always set them down just so. This meant the shoes would wedge against the door’s bottom rail and temporarily block access, thus impeding the person who was trying to come in. They would then have to stoop