The Perfect Neighbours: A gripping psychological thriller with an ending you won’t see coming

She watched his fist and shook her head.

“Or the Mosel or the Sauerland? Or the Black Forest or the Ahr Valley?” He fired off the place names like bullets.

She carried on shaking her head. When would this end?

“You must go somewhere.”

“I …” she faltered.

His eyes narrowed and he snarled: “Or is only England good enough?”

She flushed crimson, panic rising. The man looked unstable; she’d have to say something. How was she going to get away? She couldn’t run into the house; he’d see where she lived. Maybe if she’d accepted the cigarette, he’d have stalked back to the copse and left her alone. Her refusal had made him angry.

“We go to Austria, to the Grossglockner, in spring. The Whitsun holidays.” She held her breath. Why had she said all that?

His eyes pierced her, made her shake. It was better when he spoke. Why was he silent?

“The neighbours. We go with the neighbours,” she blurted out.

A dog barked up the street, the couple returning with the spaniels. The man darted into the trees and disappeared.

6 (#ulink_c1f5ea88-8730-57d5-b626-5ec55aefb183)

Helen and Gary sprawled on the sofa, replete after the roast pork they’d prepared and eaten together. She’d phoned her parents before lunch. It turned out to have been an easy, excited call. They’d booked a cruise to celebrate Dad’s sixtieth in December.

She moved onto Gary’s knee and kissed him. They snuggled together. He still had the soapy clean fragrance from his morning shower but some of the Sunday cooking smells had seeped into his T-shirt.

He returned the kiss and said: “I’ve worked out why you’re in a good mood: the outdoor pool opens tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait. With all the free time I’ve got now, I can set myself a proper training schedule. I could aim for a decent time over 100 m crawl. What do you think?”

“I love it when you talk athletic.” He pulled her down and manoeuvred himself on top. Contentment came over her as he unbuttoned her shirt. Things were great; she adored Gary, Germany was fine.

The doorbell chimed, and Gary dropped to the floor, struggling with his zip, “bugger” coming loud through clenched teeth.

“I’ll go.” She could guess who it was. She fastened her shirt but resisted the urge to scoop stray hairs into her ponytail.

Louisa. “It’s the wives’ breakfast at my house tomorrow. I’ve put you down for a dozen cookies. Aldi ones will do if you can’t bake.”

“I’ve arranged to go swimming tomorrow.”

Louisa paused, and Helen savoured her hesitation. She felt like she had when her squad had won the Midlands swim championships. Triumphant.

But her victory didn’t last.

“I hope you’re going to the village pool. I managed to get 400 people to sign my petition and I convinced the town hall officials to open it for us.”

As Helen listened to Louisa’s account of how she asserted herself, she gripped the door, longing to slam it in her neighbour’s community-spirited face. Eventually Louisa remembered she had more breakfast invitations to deliver and left.

“Is there nothing that bloody woman doesn’t do?” Helen asked Gary. “Do all the neighbours kowtow to her?”

“I’ve heard her coffee mornings are fun. All the wives who don’t work are happy to help. And it’s thanks to her you’ll get to swim tomorrow.”

“I think I’ll drive to Center Parcs instead.”

“Don’t be silly; it’s thirty kilometres away. Not even someone as stubborn as you would hack off their own nose in spite.”

Fiona (#ulink_7f58707b-861c-5590-af63-26ae6b40ae92)

“Hi, it’s me.” I was out of breath after dashing from the languages block to get a signal.

“Shall I phone you back?” Mum said. “Save your credit.”

“I’ve got a lecture now. I just wanted to tell you something.” I cradled my mobile under my chin and got out my lit folder. “Do you remember that extended essay I had to write when I was in Lyons?”

“I think you mentioned it. Eight thousand words, wasn’t it?”

“That’s the one,” I said, almost dropping the folder in my excitement to get my words out. “I got a First for it.”

“That’s brilliant.”

I propped the folder against the wall. “Listen to what my tutor said: ‘This is one of the best undergraduate analyses I’ve read. I have high hopes for your results this year.’ Can I tell Dad now?”

“He’s having a nap, love, but I’ll tell him later.”

“Is he all right?” I couldn’t keep the alarm out of my voice. He’d slept in the daytime during his treatment. But he was better now, wasn’t he?

“Of course. He’s just taking it easy.”

“If that’s all it is …”

“Definitely. Stop worrying. So are you celebrating in the uni bar tonight?”

“I don’t think I’ve got time.” I still had a business case study to finish and some vocab to learn.

“You can give yourself one night off.”

“I suppose I could go to the George.” Liz and Cheryl preferred the pub to the uni bar. I tagged along last week but left when the engineering lads moved in for a flirt. I had an essay to write anyway.

“Go on, love,” Mum said, “you never know, you might meet the man of your dreams.”

7 (#ulink_5ecd4c90-fce6-5321-8d48-b6540abffefe)

Monday, 3 May

Cold pinched Helen’s arms and thighs as she stepped out of the changing room into the open air. It turned to tingling, comforting heat as she slid into the water. She dropped under the surface and set off at a gentle crawl.

It felt like home.