hear the television. To not answer will arouse suspicion. But I can’t let them see Mabel.
Another knock. I stand up and carry her into her bedroom, dumping her rather unceremoniously in her cot. She squeals in protest, like an animal forced into a cage.
‘Hush now, be a good girl,’ I whisper, shutting her in.
I can see a shadowy figure behind the frosted glass of the front door. My fingers tremble on the latch as I open it, and I only just about manage to contain a sigh of relief when I see that it’s not a police officer; just an elderly man leaning on a stick. He’s wearing a tweed jacket, brown cords and a flat cap, like he’s performing ‘old country codger’. I didn’t think such people existed any more.
‘I saw the car in the drive so I thought I’d take the opportunity,’ he says. ‘Been meaning to call these last few days, but you know how it is. Anyway, hello.’ He holds out his hand for me to shake and I take it gingerly. ‘Bob Masefield’s the name – we’re neighbours.’
‘Oh. I didn’t think we had any neighbours,’ I reply stiffly.
He laughs as if I’ve made a joke. ‘Well, I’m as near a neighbour as you’ve got. I live up the lane. The Nook, thatched cottage on the corner. You’ll have spotted it, I expect.’
‘Oh yes. Hi. Pleased to meet you.’ Mabel is crying now – unless he’s deaf, he must be able to hear her. My muscles tense. If I don’t get rid of him soon, she’s going to give me away. Her screams seem amplified. I imagine her tears seeping under the bedroom door and flooding the hallway.
‘So, you’ve bought Dolly’s place,’ he says.
‘Dolly?’ I reply, feigning ignorance.
‘Dorothy Williams. She died about a year and a half ago.’
‘Yes.’
‘We thought developers would buy it. Knock it down, build something new.’ He waits for me to provide some information. ‘We were surprised when we saw someone had moved in. I expect you’re going to do it up.’
‘Yes. Eventually.’
‘Holiday home, is it, or are you going to live here all the time?’
‘All the time,’ I reply, giving him a thin smile.
He smiles. ‘It’ll be nice to have a young family in the village. Too many oldies like me and Barbara. That’s my wife, you’ll get to meet her. She was going to come with me but she does her art class today. I said to her this morning, we can’t keep leaving it, it’s not neighbourly.’ He puts his free hand on the door frame for support, hoping, no doubt, that I’ll invite him in for a cup of tea.
Mabel’s cries are becoming louder, more insistent. ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I’m really busy right now.’
‘Somebody’s got a fine pair of lungs on them.’ He cranes his head to look past me, hoping to see their owner.
‘My son,’ I say quickly. ‘He’s just woken up. I really must go to him.’ I start to close the door, but he edges forward, putting an invisible foot inside.
‘We’ve got six grandchildren, one great-grandchild on the way.’
‘Congratulations.’ I throw a glance over my shoulder. ‘Oh dear, he’s sounding really unhappy. I’m very sorry, but I need to go and see to him.’
‘How old is he?’
I hesitate. ‘Sorry?’
‘Your son.’
‘Oh. Um, ten months.’
‘Yes, well, nice to meet you, er …’ He grasps for the name I haven’t given him, then gives up. ‘Drop in the next time you’re passing. The wife’s out and about a lot, but I’m always in. The Nook. You can’t miss it.’
‘Yes, thanks,’ I say, forcing a smile through my teeth. ‘We will.’
As soon as he turns to go, I shut the door firmly, then lean against it for a few seconds, trying to regain my balance. Jesus, that was close. Was he just being neighbourly? You’d never get that kind of thing in London. He seemed particularly interested in the baby, although to be fair, she was making a terrible racket. It would have been strange if he hadn’t commented.
She’s still making a racket. I push off the door and go into her bedroom. She has rolled over and squashed herself against the rails. Her cheeks are wet with tears, and wisps of hair are plastered against her forehead.
‘Shut up, Mabel!’ I say, shaking the sides of the cot. ‘You nearly gave the game away just then!’ She continues to wail, her face turning as red as a squashed raspberry. ‘I can’t deal with this right now. I need to think!’