on the pavements below. Their faces looked relatively carefree, but maybe they had problems too. Everyone, at some point in their lives, put on an outward show when, inwardly, they were crumbling.
He watched a lady striding towards the supermarket. Perhaps the woman was wondering what to put on the table for her family this evening. Maybe she was on a tight budget and hoping she might get away with beans on toast. In the opposite direction was a young mum with a baby stroller. She looked harassed. Perhaps she was silently praying her screaming child would shut up and that she wouldn’t have a sleep-deprived meltdown in public. On the other side of the road, a teenage lad was standing awkwardly, hands stuffed in pockets. He was chatting to a girl of about the same age. Was he trying to overcome shyness and summon the courage to ask her out?
Greg sighed. He’d never had a girlfriend. But then again, his feelings didn’t extend to the fairer sex. That was one secret Mother had never discovered.
Twenty minutes later Greg had come up with a plan of distraction. Instead of worrying about what was happening with Mother at the hospital, he’d keep himself busy. He’d start with a visual check on all the houses in Gresham Terrace.
Whilst at the hospital, Greg had overheard a couple of nurses chatting about a spate of burglaries in Copthall Road. This street ran parallel to Gresham Terrace.
Greg wasn’t surprised Copthall Road had experienced problems. None of the residents were interested in being part of the Neighbourhood Watch scheme. Was it any wonder they were vulnerable to unwanted attention? Nor did anyone ever pause for a few moments to speak with another. Not one person knew their neighbour’s name! Consequently, it was only a matter of time before a disaster occurred, simply because nobody was bothered about looking out for their neighbour.
Greg frowned as a thought occurred to him. Jade Ferguson had tried to see him last night. What had she wanted? She’d looked very distressed. Indeed, she’d angrily told him he needed help.
Oh God. What if she thought he was neglecting Mother in some way? What if she reported him to Social Services? He’d been so engrossed with Mother’s admission into hospital, he hadn’t even thought about Miss Ferguson. How very remiss of him. He hoped his neighbour would understand the reasons why he’d not been in touch.
Greg cast his mind back to Jade standing on his garden path. He’d not heard her knocking on the door until her fist-blows had become frantic. By the time he’d wound a towel around himself and hastened down the stairs, Mother had somehow worked out how to undo the bolts and the security chain.
From the moment Mother had stepped outside, the entire evening had descended into chaos. Greg could feel himself trembling as he recalled the moment Mother had come up against Dee Parker’s car. Thank goodness the lady had demonstrated such swift reflexes.
Hopping off the bus, he hastened home. Once inside the sanctuary of Number 2, the first thing Greg did was look up Jade Ferguson’s number in his old-fashioned address book. She’d not been happy about handing over her contact details. He remembered that now. She’d been slightly mollified at him writing her number down on a piece of paper, rather than programming it into a mobile. He’d explained that he didn’t own such a gadget. Mother had managed perfectly well without such a contraption, and he saw no need to change things. He did, however, have computers.
Whether a laptop was of preference, or a desktop, Greg deemed such items to be essential pieces of equipment, especially when it came to Neighbourhood Watch. In his mind there was good technology, and bad. Mobile phones fell into the latter category.
There was nothing more annoying than sitting on the bus with everyone around him shouting into their mobiles. Likewise, in the doctor’s waiting room. There was a big sign on the wall requesting patients switch off their phones, but nobody took any notice.
Many a time he’d sat quietly with Mother only to have the peace of the waiting room disrupted by someone’s mobile belting out a jarring jingle. It had always upset Mother too. The last time she’d thrown a tantrum because the owner of the phone in question hadn’t let Mother play with it. Computers, however, were another matter. They disturbed no one and strangely held no fascination for Mother.
Greg picked up the handset of the outdated corded