Behind The Pretty Pink Door: Have you met the new neighbours yet? Read online

  Behind the Pretty Pink Door

  Have you met the new neighbours yet?

  M J Hardy

  Copyrighted Material

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  Copyright © M J Hardy 2020

  * * *

  M J Hardy has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this work.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction and except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  * * *

  This book uses UK spelling

  Contents

  Behind the Pretty Pink Door

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Esme

  Chapter 2

  Esme

  Chapter 3

  Esme

  Chapter 4

  Esme

  Chapter 5

  Esme

  Chapter 6

  Lola

  Chapter 7

  Lola

  Chapter 8

  Esme

  Chapter 9

  Esme

  Chapter 10

  Jasmine

  Chapter 11

  Lola

  Chapter 12

  Jasmine

  Chapter 13

  Jasmine

  Chapter 14

  Lola

  Chapter 15

  Jasmine

  Chapter 16

  Lola

  Chapter 17

  Nancy

  Chapter 18

  Nancy

  Chapter 19

  Lola

  Chapter 20

  Nancy

  Chapter 21

  Nancy

  Chapter 22

  Sandra

  Chapter 23

  Lola

  Chapter 24

  Esme

  Chapter 25

  Sandra

  Chapter 26

  Jasmine

  Chapter 27

  Lola

  Chapter 28

  Sandra

  Chapter 29

  Esme

  Chapter 30

  Nancy

  Chapter 31

  Jasmine

  Chapter 32

  Sandra

  Chapter 33

  Nancy

  Chapter 34

  Lola

  Chapter 35

  Jasmine

  Epilogue

  Epilogue 2

  Note from M J Hardy

  About the Author

  The Girl on Gander Green Lane

  The Girl on Gander Green Lane blurb

  The Husband Thief

  The Husband Thief Blurb

  Living The Dream

  Living The Dream - blurb

  The Woman who Destroyed Christmas

  The Woman who Destroyed Christmas - blurb

  About the Author

  More books by M J Hardy

  The Girl on Gander Green Lane

  The Husband Thief

  Living the Dream

  The Woman who Destroyed Christmas

  The Grey Woman

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  Behind the Pretty Pink Door

  What’s going on behind the pretty pink door?

  Can something so pretty hide a dreadful truth?

  Esme and Lucas thought they had moved up in the world.

  They bought an impressive new house on a desirable development but do they fit in?

  Nancy and Adrian moved to escape a secret they appear to have packed and brought with them.

  What will the neighbours think if they discover what it is?

  Jasmine and Liam seem to have it all. Their neighbours want what they have but would they go as far to achieve it?

  Then there's Keith and Sandra Wickham who everyone wishes hadn't moved there at all.

  They all have one thing in common and it's not the street they moved into.

  It's their fascination for what goes on behind the pretty pink door.

  Who lives there and what secrets does it hide?

  Secrets have a habit of coming out and none of theirs are safe.

  What happens when the pretty pink door opens and lets them all inside?

  Sometimes it’s easier to turn a blind eye than to face the consequences but true evil is found in the ones who look away and do nothing.

  Prologue

  Lola

  If I hide under the bed will it all go away?

  I wish I had that option because anything is better than this.

  The sound of the car pulling up outside makes my heart thump and my nerves tingle. My father looks at me and the ruin in his eyes will live with me forever. It’s all there in that look. Pain, guilt, despair, love… I could go on.

  His voice breaks. “I’m sorry.”

  “It will be ok.”

  At some point in this, the child in me grew up and our roles reversed. He needs me to make it better because he is drowning, choking and dying inside.

  I smile bravely through my tears as the sound of two car doors slamming bring reality to our door.

  This is a pivotal point in both our lives, and even breathing is difficult. I want to run; I want to hide and I want to make everything better—but I can’t. This is it, how it must be—for now, anyway.

  “I’ll sort it, you must believe that.”

  “Don’t.” My voice is soft and disguises how I really feel. I’m angry and hurt and so worried I can’t think straight. There is so much to say, but only one thing matters.

  “I love you.”

  He turns sharply and the look in his eyes strips me bare. I need to hold it together and so smile bravely through my tears, “I’ll be ok.”

  The footsteps are close to our door, they are like a drumbeat counting down the last moments of a life that was never perfect but normal to me—to us.

  Father and daughter, getting by together. Not anymore, not until things change, so with a heavy heart, I walk towards the only person I love and smile through my tears. “I love you dad, please stay safe.”

  His arms wrap around me and hold me close, and I almost stop breathing. A thousand words I should say spin around my mind, but none of them gets a voice. They have no power anyway because this is how it is and as my father crushes me to him, I feel his emotion tearing at my soul. If this is the last time I hold my father, I want it to count. I want to remember how I feel at this moment because that will get me through. I need to be strong and I need to be brave because we will get through this and blink in the sunlight on the other side. Life will carry on and we will leave this behind us and never speak of it again.

  The loud knock on the door causes my heart to race and for a fraction of a second, time stands still. My father’s arms tighten around me and I wonder what’s going through his mind right now.

  Then he breaks away and says almost gruffly, “I’m sorry, Lola.”

  He breaks away and only the dull sound of his boot on the bare floor gives life to a room where two hearts stopped beating one hour ago. Is it possible to live when your heart ceased working? Apparently, it is because we are proof of that. Sixty minutes ago, our lives changed and I wasn’t prepared for how much, however as his hand finds the door handle, I know I must dig deep because what happens next determines our future.

  Chapter 1

  Esme


  “Lucas, don’t you dare let that cat out.”

  The door slams and I feel my nerves fraying by the second as I see Pixie scurrying down the driveway towards the house opposite.

  Quickly, I check for cars before racing down the stairs two steps at a time and flinging open the door.

  “Pixie, come here, girl.”

  I may as well be talking to myself because she’s gone. In the brief few moments that it took to make the transition from upstairs window to path in front of the door, she’s disappeared and I look at my husband crossly as he unloads yet another cardboard box from the rental van.

  “Did you forget to pack your common sense?”

  “What?” He looks annoyed and I take a deep breath. “Pixie, the cat, remember?”

  “What about her?”

  “Honestly Lucas, we spoke about this. We agreed she was to be kept inside for at least a week to get used to her new home and now you’ve ruined what was supposed to be a textbook operation.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Settling Pixie into her new home, remember. The vet and the internet agree that cats should be kept indoors because it’s likely she’ll be confused and try to find our old home. She will be disorientated, upset and worried and unable to find her way back to us. You’ll have to stop what you’re doing and help me find her.”

  “Stop what I’m doing, are you crazy? This van is only ours for one more hour before I have to return it, unless you want to pay the penalty.”

  “Weigh it up, darling, and think about the penalty you will pay if my baby goes missing and never returns. The penalty you will pay will be far more costly than a late fee for returning a van that was never big enough in the first place. Honestly, I wonder why I married you sometimes.”

  “Good afternoon.”

  Looking up, I see a woman standing at the end of our driveway, smiling at us with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Feeling as if I’ve been caught fighting in the playground by the teacher, I say quickly, “Oh, hi.”

  She nods to Lucas, who smiles politely and then puts the box down and heads her way. I join him and the woman holds out her hand.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, I’m your neighbour Nancy.”

  “Oh, how lovely, I’m Esme and this is my husband Lucas.”

  I look with interest at my new friend because I’m in no doubt we will be. It’s what happens when you move next door to someone in places like these. You forge an instant connection and I can see us sharing many coffees over the breakfast bar as we put the world to rights.

  She smiles politely and waves her hand in the direction of the house beside ours.

  “Yes, we moved in last month, I think we were the second ones here. Only Sandra and Keith were here before us, but Jasmine and Liam weren’t close behind. Goodness, I can’t keep up with it all.”

  Looking around with interest, once again I feel the smug contentment of someone who thinks she has it all. Yes, this was always going to be a good move for us, a step up and the chance to mingle with the middle classes where I have always aspired to be.

  “So, Nancy, what’s it like living here, any advice?”

  “Oh, you’ll find out, it can be a bit intense actually but in a nice way. I was going to call in later on this evening with a ‘welcome to your new home’ bottle of wine and card, but I was passing and couldn’t resist saying hi.”

  Once again, she smiles and then says quickly, “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it because I know what it’s like on moving day. If you need anything I’m only next door and Adrian, my husband, can always provide a strong pair of arms if you need any heavy lifting done and if he can’t, I have a son who I would welcome you dragging from his computer games for five seconds to do some actual physical activity for once.”

  She smiles and heads off and I turn to Lucas and grin. “Well, she seems nice, I told you it would be ok.”

  Shrugging, he leans down and lifts the box, grumbling, “Why do you always put that false voice on when you meet people, it’s embarrassing?”

  “What do you mean, I always speak like that?”

  I whisper it furiously hoping nobody hears and he shakes his head. “Yes, you do. Suddenly, you’ve become some la-de-da lady and we both know that’s not you, Esme, why do you always feel the need to make out you are something you’re not?”

  Feeling like kicking the box across the bloody driveway, I just turn and storm inside, completely forgetting why I came out here in the first place.

  I retreat to the kitchen and look around with increasing panic as I see the mammoth task waiting for me. This kitchen is bigger than our old one so everything should fit in, but at the moment it looks as if it will take some doing, so I sigh in defeat and flick the kettle on instead. This can wait because a nice cup of tea is taking priority right now over anything else, and I’m almost tempted not to offer Lucas any.

  Fake voice, I don’t know where he gets these ideas from.

  By the time Lucas has emptied the van, I’m beginning to lose the will to live. I thought this would be easy. We didn’t have much to bring anyway, preferring to buy new when we got here, but this is overwhelming.

  A knock at the door distracts me from the cardboard mountain and I head towards it with interest, taking a moment to enjoy the sound of a doorbell that actually works for a change, unlike our old one that was always out of batteries.

  As I open the door, a flash of black races past me and I feel the relief hit me, “Pixie.”

  My runaway baby has returned and I can sleep tonight, but as I look up, I see she didn’t return alone. A man is standing there holding an envelope and he regards me with interest.

  “Good afternoon, I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but I’m Keith Wickham, the coordinator of the Meadow Vale housing committee and wanted to welcome you personally.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you; I’m Esme and my husband Lucas is just out for a bit, but he won’t be long.”

  “That’s fine, I just wanted to drop in some information you may need, you know the sort of thing, bin collection times, nearest shop, pub, etc.”

  “That’s great, thank you, I appreciate it.”

  He nods as he hands me the envelope and I see him look past me and feel immediately on edge at the state of the house.

  “Hm, we nearly bought this house, but the sun was in the wrong position for Sandra, she wanted a south facing garden but this one’s north.”

  “Oh, we don’t care about things like that.”

  I feel a little defensive because he throws me one of those looks that’s loaded with pity and I say quickly, “Well, thank you again, I appreciate it.”

  Hoping he will take the hint, I make to close the door but he says quickly, “Oh yes, I saw you have a cat. You may want to keep it in for a bit. There are quite a few of them around and can get very territorial to newcomers.”

  Despite the fact that was my plan all along, I resent a total stranger telling me what to do and say evenly, “Thank you, so, um, Keith, which house is yours?”

  He waves across the road and my heart sinks as he says with pride, “Ours is the Wisteria design, Sandra always demands the best, so of course we had to go for the most expensive.”

  “Lucky Sandra.” I smile, but inside I’m groaning. Could this man be any more boring if he tried? In fact, I am definitely not picturing any cosy get together with this couple. If I did, I may shoot myself.

  He looks around and I feel myself cringing with embarrassment as his gaze falls to our rather old Nissan Micra that has seen better days. His own Mercedes sits gleaming on his driveway, and I know enough about cars to know that one must have cost a small fortune.

  Trying to distract him from stripping anymore of my self-worth, I say quickly, “I met Nancy earlier, she seems nice.”

  “Yes, Nancy and Adrian are the kind of people you want as neighbours, you know the sort, upstanding members of the community who are not afraid to get involved. I’m hoping you and your husband are out
of the same mould.”

  “Of course, we are keen to dive head first into life at Meadow Vale. We can’t wait, actually.”

  Keith just smiles, “Well, I must be off. A game of golf beckons. Do you play golf, or your husband perhaps?”

  Another sinking feeling highlights my increasing list of failings and I say quietly, “No, I’m afraid we don’t. We were thinking of taking it up though.”

  The look he gives me tells me even he knows this is a lie because I’m sure that if I even mentioned it to Lucas, he would shoot me down in flames. He’s always hated golf and can’t begin to understand why anyone would enjoy hitting a ball with a stick and wearing crazy checked trousers. Hopefully we won’t have much to do with Keith Wickham, anyway.

  Chapter 2

  Esme

  The door slams and my heart sinks. Here we go.

  “Mum, where are you?”

  “In here.”

  Seeing them racing into the room, I have to smile as I see the excitement in the eyes of Billy and Archie, my two boys who are the spitting image of their father.

  “Wow, this place is huge.”