Chapter 12
Lucy
My fridge is overflowingwith tiny cakes I’ve baked for my neighbors. It’s a way of breaking the ice. I’ll follow by inviting them to a drinks party.
First stop, the apartment beneath me. An older lady with tight, dyed brunette curls and gold-rimmed glasses opens the door wide, all smiles.
“Yes?”
“I’m Lucy Beston, your new neighbor,” I say as I hold out the Saran wrapped paper plate, laden with finger foods.
“Oh. How marvelous,” she says. “I love it when new residents introduce themselves. So civilized, don’t you think? I’m Mrs B. Would you like to come in for a few moments? Sorry the place is a mess.”
It’s anything but messy, the orange kitchen benches and lime green tiles in perfect condition – clean and bright. A stack of lime-green saucepans graces the shelf beside the stove, along with a purple fondue set.
“I love your kitchen,” I say.
“Mr B and I remodelled it in 1973 when we moved in,” she said. “We looked after it, and now it’s back in fashion. Coffee?”
“Thank you.”
She places my plate on a shiny purple tray and takes her mission brown percolator off the stove. Even her coffee cups are 1970s, small and squat, and decorated in geometric brown and orange triangles.
“These are so retro, Mrs B. Amazing.”
“This set was a wedding gift from Mr B’s parents. They’re still perfectly serviceable. I wash and wipe by hand, very carefully. I listen to the radio as I do it. My things are special, so I take extra care. They remind me of Lenny. And we never had children, so there’s that.”
There’s a little silence as she loads the matching milk and sugar bowl onto the tray and carries it into her front room. The wallpaper, carpet and furniture match the coffee cups, all triangles and arches in brown and yellow and orange – alarmingly bright.
“So you’ve been in Brighton Court all this time?”
“I love it here,” she says. “It’s good and solid. Most of my friends have moved now, or died, it’s true, but I’m happy here. Now tell me about you, Lucy Beston.”
“Oh. I only moved in a week or two ago, but I can see exactly why you love it. It’s such a lovely area, so many good local shops, the bus service, the little bit of yard, though truly, it needs some work.”
“Good luck with that. Professor No stops everything.”
“Who’s that?”
