The Watchful Neighbour - Debbie Viggiano Page 0,17

just thinking that I could take in any courier deliveries or parcels… if you’re ever out.’

‘But you just told me that you work too. Aren’t you out all day yourself?’

‘Well, yes. Mostly.’

‘Mostly?’

‘Y-yes. Mostly all day.’

‘Then it’s more likely it will be me taking in a parcel for you,’ said Dee.

‘Perhaps,’ Jade nodded.

Damn. She’d messed up. Her clumsy questioning had been an attempt to discover Dee’s movements, so that she could avoid her in future.

Jade wondered whether she could perhaps mash-up her own working hours. Maybe change rotas with other staff. That way Dee wouldn’t always know when Jade was home. She’d have to make sure she parked further down the road too. Keep her car out of sight. The last thing Jade wanted was Dee opening her front door at six o’clock every evening and yodelling, “Yoo-hoo! Fancy a brew?”

So far Jade had mostly dodged the occupants of Gresham Terrace and she wanted to keep it that way.

‘Well, I won’t hold you up,’ said Dee pleasantly. She turned to go in through the front door of Number 4. ‘Have a nice evening.’

‘And you,’ Jade replied.

She suddenly felt overcome with exhaustion. Making small talk with Dee Parker had been an exertion. Jade was now grateful to retreat within the walls of Number 3. For the last few minutes, she’d been out of her comfort zone.

Jade pushed against the front door, taking instant comfort in it refusing to fully open because of the strategically placed running shoes.

Stepping carefully over Puddles, who was laying contentedly on the bottom stair, Jade went up to her bedroom to change out of her work clothes. Pulling on a t-shirt, she then shimmied her way into a pair of comfortable leggings. She glanced at the dressing table with its four bottles of lotions and perfumes. They were arranged exactly as she’d left them. A perfect square with the corners not quite touching. Good.

All was well in Jade Ferguson’s world. For now.

Chapter Ten

Jade had spent a restless night tossing and turning. Her dreams had been fragmented and nonsensical which, upon wakening, she’d put down to the recent upheaval in her life.

New job. New move. New pet companion. New neighbours. New mind.

She hoped.

She told herself it was perfectly natural to feel unsettled.

But as she made her morning coffee, she reflected upon the real reason for being disturbed. She’d been feeling out of sorts for the last week, ever since coming home to Puddles and his rain-soaked fur but finding the cat flap locked.

Over the last few days Jade had tried to convince herself that the cat flap had malfunctioned and somehow jammed after Puddles had come back in.

She’d repeatedly cast her mind back to that evening. Crouching down. Examining the cat flap. Finding it locked… no, jammed… and then fiddling with the catch… on… off… on… off… and then being satisfied that it was working properly. So why had it been closed when she’d examined it? And then she’d started to doubt whether it had been shut? That perhaps she’d just imagined it. But with each passing day, she’d become more uncertain about whether the cat flap had ever malfunctioned in the first place.

She tried to convince herself that the cat flap had momentarily played up. Even so, her brain insisted on playing out the incident again and again until she felt she was going potty.

She hated doubting herself. It was so important to be in control. There was no room for uncertainty in Jade’s new world.

Puddles chose that moment to yowl shrilly for food. Jade abandoned her coffee and stooped to give the cat an apologetic rub around one velvety ear.

‘I wish you could talk.’

Puddles meowed again.

‘Properly,’ she added, with a small smile. ‘I want to confide in you. It’s about the guy next door. Greg Good. I’m not keen on him. I see him watching me when I come and go from this house. He’s often standing by the window in his front room. He thinks I can’t see him. He believes the heavy net curtains are a shield, but his outline is visible. I know he’s there and he gives me the creeps.’

Jade rubbed Puddles under the chin and the cat instantly started to purr.

‘I wish you could tell me if anything… odd… is going on while I’m at work.’

She straightened up and went to a cupboard. Extracting a box of cat food, she sprinkled kibble into a china bowl.

‘What I’d really like to know, Puddles, is whether Greg has actually dared to let himself in