By the first week of July, I not only knew my neighbours’ names were Adele and Marcus, I had also discovered Adele worked in a bakery and adjoining café in Fairlight Bay, called Fairlight Bakes, and Marcus owned his own business, also in Fairlight Bay. At that stage, I had yet to ascertain what his business was as he hadn’t elaborated, but I thought it might involve working outdoors because we had been briefly discussing the weather one morning when it looked as if it was about to pour with rain, and Marcus had said that he hoped it wouldn’t as he had a big job on and he’d rather it wasn’t rained off.
When I invited them both to a small, summer BBQ in August, I had high hopes of them attending. Sadly, neither had.
‘Small steps,’ I had said to Madi.
‘Why bother?’ Madi had replied, she and Tristan having yet again driven hundreds of miles from Somerset for that BBQ – and to spend the Bank Holiday weekend with me. ‘I know you think everyone should get on with everyone else and we should all be friends with our neighbours, but some people just liketo live their lives on their own terms and keep themselves to themselves.’
I could understand that some people liked their privacy but surely it was better to chat to one’s neighbours and at the very least, to pass the time of day with them rather than to ignore them and refuse their hospitality?
I had hoped Adele and Marcus would join me at the Horrible Halloween Hop, the annual dance held in Fairlight Bay on the Saturday night closest to Halloween. I had mentioned it to each of them several times throughout September and October but they had both changed the subject or each said they’d think about it, in a way that made me certain they had no intention of doing any such thing.
‘I’m worried they may be lonely,’ I told Madi.
‘Why? Just because they both appear to live on their own? You live alone, but you’re not lonely, are you?’
‘No. But I’ve got friends and my family.’
Madi had tutted. ‘And so have they. You told me yourself that you’ve seen people come and go to both cottages over the months you’ve lived there. Perhaps their lives are full enough and they don’t feel the need to be friends with you. Even though it’s their loss because you’re so lovely, of course.’
I had laughed at that. ‘She adds hastily. Hmm. I know you’re probably right and yet … I don’t know why and I can’t really explain it but … they both seem sad somehow. And the weird thing is, they both smile and say hello to me now, and they’ll even stop and chat, but they won’t smile and say hello to one another and I haven’t seen them exchange one word. That’s odd, isn’t it? They’ve both lived on Midwinter Lane for years, so they’ve both told me.’
‘Yes,’ Madi agreed. ‘That is strange. Perhaps they had a row or something. Or perhaps they dated once and didn’t hit it off. You said they’re around the same age, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. Although I don’t know for sure because I haven’t asked their ages and they haven’t offered to tell me, but I don’t think they’re that much older than us. I would say they’re both in their early forties. I asked Adele about it a few weeks ago. Not about their ages. About why they don’t seem to acknowledge one another. She almost bit my head off. “I don’t want to talk about that”, was all she would say, and the look she gave me could’ve turned me to ice.’
‘Yep. That definitely sounds as if they’ve fallen out. You’ll have to find out why, won’t you?’
‘Absolutely,’ I had agreed.
‘Although the most worrying thing you said was that they’re not much older than us,’ Madi added. ‘How did we get to be thirty-six so quickly?’
‘I have no idea. I still feel like twenty-one. Unfortunately, I don’t look that age.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Madi said with a sigh.
By November, nothing much had changed with my neighbours, as I had told Madi when she asked for an update.
‘They might’ve also ignored my invitation to join me for the Big Bonfire Night in Fairlight Bay, but things will be different this Christmas. This Christmas, we’ll all be friends at the very least.’
‘I admire your optimism,’ Madi had said. ‘And your staying power. I’d have told them to stuff it by now.’
Madi and I had been neighbours, and that was how we had met when we were both twenty-one. We both rented small studio flats in the same low-rise block in Bromley in Kent – cheaper than living in London but still easily commutable to the City where we both worked, oddly enough, as we had quickly discovered, in high-rise office buildings next door to one another. We soon became friends and over the years we sharedhighs and lows, heartaches and new loves, career wins and losses, and everything in between.
We were more like sisters than best friends by the time we moved from the tiny studio flats we had rented to a large, two-bedroom flat a short distance along the road, which we had bought together. Like so many others around our age, neither of us could ever have afforded to buy a place on our own. Property in and around London had always been expensive, but together we each managed to get a foot on the first rung of the property ladder.
Madi had worked her way up the corporate ladder to become an executive assistant to a high-flying executive in a leading global technology, consulting and research company.
Two years ago, she had gone on a date with her boss, who subsequently decided he no longer wanted to fly-high in the City but wanted to move down to Somerset and start his own cider-making business instead. He told Madi about his dream, and, as Madi had always wanted to live in the countryside, when Tristan asked her to go with him, she had instantly said yes.
I had worked in the Human Resources department of one of the world’s largest international banks and had also worked my way up towards the glass ceiling that still existed in that bank, but before I could break through, technology had taken over. The bank had revamped many of its HR services, making much of it digital, meaning there were fewer jobs for humans. I was assured my position was secure, but when the bank asked for voluntary redundancies, I stepped forward. I had been considering a change for a while and with Madi moving to Somerset, I decided it was time to make my own break from the City to the countryside.
Madi and Tristan had told me that Madi would keep her share in the flat so that I wouldn’t need to sell up and move elsewhere,but I had already made up my mind to do so, and the flat was sold and the profits shared equally.
I had chosen to move to Sussex, not Somerset. It was where my family lived. But I must admit, the urge to join Madi in the West Country, and possibly live close to her and Tristan, was strong.
Until my mum suggested that Madi and Tristan might not want their single friend tagging along as they embarked on their new adventure. I believe Mum had said it with the best of intentions, but her words hit home and although I knew Madi would miss me as much as I would miss her, I decided I should give them some space.
It was only later that I realised Mum was slightly hurt by my wanting to move to Somerset to be close to my best friend rather than move back to Sussex to be close to my family.
