The Watchful Neighbour - Debbie Viggiano Page 0,85
by the smallest chance – turned up and wanted to check the contents in the bag. However, that hadn’t happened.
He moved across the kitchen to the cupboard that held some crystal tumblers. It wasn’t often he drank as he liked to keep his wits about him. However, the last few days had been particularly stressful, what with Mother’s illness and subsequent death, then Jade Ferguson’s erratic behaviour culminating in both she and Brad Grimshaw making accusations.
Greg removed a small bottle of whisky and a glass. The last time he’d poured a drink it had been for Mother. She’d had trouble sleeping. He had splashed some of it into her bedtime cocoa. A few minutes later, she’d gone out like streetlights in a power cut. Bless her.
***
On the other side of the wall, Jade got on with the task of making herself some dinner. As she ate, she chatted on the phone with Brad. The conversation significantly lightened the dour mood that had initially prevailed after having Greg Good in the house. A little later, she treated herself to a long soak in a bubble bath while reading her Kindle.
It was only as Jade was getting into bed that it came to her which song Greg had whistled earlier, as he’d made his way home.
Every Breath You Take.
As Jade switched off the bedside lamp, the lyrics began to play in her head. She found herself repeatedly singing the words “watching you”.
Disturbed, she turned the light on again.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Jade slept fitfully. She was aware that she’d tossed and turned in the night because, at one point, Puddles had hissed his displeasure at having his own slumber disturbed.
She’d felt distinctly uneasy as she’d lain in bed, her brain replaying those lyrics. Had Greg Good been giving her some sort of subliminal message?
No, Jade, she’d eventually told herself. You’re simply being paranoid again.
Now walking into the bathroom to clean her teeth, she was surprised to see that the image in the mirror didn’t reflect one of tiredness. Usually she looked puffy-eyed and washed out. This morning, however, her skin had an almost bridal glow.
Jade peered at herself. Even her irises seemed to be sparkling. She was aware that something inside her had shifted. The weighted bit of her that had been so despairing, so self-loathing, had shuffled off leaving optimism to settle in its place.
She smiled slowly at her reflection, instinctively knowing it was Brad who was responsible for this. Their conversation last night hadn’t been about anything special but somehow, for that very reason, it had ended up being exactly that.
They hadn’t debated any heavy political subject or talked about boring work. Instead they’d chatted about silly things. Trivial stuff. Like musical tastes. Concerts they’d been to.
They’d discovered they both liked a Dutch indie band and Brad had floated the idea of going to Amsterdam together to see them play. They’d chatted about their favourite colours, which seasons they preferred, and the most treasured memory of places visited. It had been carefree chit-chat. Unhurried. Easy-going.
Jade had never had the pleasure of such leisurely conversations with Tom Harrison. His sneaked-in phone calls had in no way ever been relaxing. Tom’s words had been brief and to the point, leaving Jade with the sense that he’d always been looking over his shoulder.
As Jade set about her morning routine, she once again had a feeling that things were changing for the better. Nobody was ever going to make her despair again.
Stepping into the shower, she was amazed to find herself re-evaluating her relationship with Tom Harrison. How had she ever allowed herself to fall into that trap? A love triangle. It was such a cliché.
As she rubbed shower gel across her skin, she reflected on the last ten years. What a stupid, naïve eighteen-year-old she’d been. Fancy falling for a man that hadn’t been hers or never would have been. How could she have believed all those lies? Why had she wasted a decade of her life?
No, Jade, she told herself. You didn’t waste those years. They were a learning curve. A ruler to measure the better things that are now coming your way. If you’d never experienced false promises, deceptions and deceit whilst taking the breadcrumbs of someone’s affection, then maybe you’d never have fully appreciated the real thing now that it’s come along.
The thought brought her up short. Was Brad the real thing? It was far too early to say. But how wonderful that they could find out for themselves without ducking and diving