Chapter Ten
Neville. Before the kidnapping.
Iarrive before the Neals. The house they’ve made an offer on sits at the very end of Millwall Lane, tucked far back from the road, with sprawling fields behind it.
The place is rundown – both the house and the land.
I can’t help wondering if they’ve thought through how much the renovation will cost.
A black BMW pulls up. They’ve brought their son along. He’s a cute kid, looks like his mother. They approach, expectant.
‘So, what do you think?’ asks Neal.
‘It’s a lovely area,’ I say. ‘The house is detached so there are no really close neighbours nearby to object to planning permission and the house is way back from the street. But this won’t be a cheap job,’ I warn him.
‘We’re essentially starting from scratch, and there’s a good chance we’ll hit some surprises along the way.
I’ll keep you in the loop, but you should be prepared for the challenges, and the cost.’
The Neals exchange a glance. There’s a quiet kind of warmth between them, and for a second I wonder if they know how lucky they are.
‘Money’s not a problem,’ he says, calm and confident.
His wife gazes at the house with soft eyes, as if she can already see it transformed. Their son runs laughing across the field, kicking a football.
‘I showed your plans to Alan Parker,’ I continue. ‘He’s a brilliant architect. He’s already put some ideas together. If you’re happy with them, we can get moving.’
Daniel suggests we go over them at a tearoom in the village, so we walk down there. While Neal orders at the counter, Joanna Neal studies the architect’s drawings.
‘These are amazing,’ she says, her voice tinged with awe. ‘It’s like he read my mind.’
‘You’re happy with the long driveway?’ I ask. ‘Alan thought it’d give you more privacy. There’s certainly enough land for it.’
‘Absolutely,’ she says with a smile.
Daniel returns with the tea, and crayons and colouring pages for their son.
‘The plans are great, Danny, look,’ Joanna says, handing them to him.
He nods, although he is less enthusiastic. ‘Yeah, they look good.’
I take a sip of tea. It’s too hot, and I try to hide the wince as it burns my tongue. I decide it’s time to bring up the question of money. I’m braced for them to say no. After last time, I can’t afford to start without an advance.
‘There’s something I should mention,’ I begin. ‘I don’t usually ask for this, but…’
Daniel raises a hand to stop me. ‘We expect to pay half up front.’
I pause. ‘Oh. Right. That’s… great.’
His wife gives me a slightly apologetic look. ‘We did a bit of checking up on you. I hope you don’t mind.’
I’m caught off guard, but I can’t blame them. I would have done the same. ‘Of course not,’ I say.
She lifts their son onto her lap. ‘This is Joel, by the way.’
‘Hi, Joel,’ I say, smiling.
‘So when can you start? And how much do you need?’ Daniel asks, glancing at his phone. He seems pressed for time.
‘I haven’t calculated everything yet, materials, labour, that sort of thing…’
‘Text me your bank details when you have a figure,’ he says, handing me his business card. ‘I’ll transfer the funds. If you need more, we’ll talk. The sooner you start, the happier she’ll be.’ He grins at his wife.
To say I am surprised would be an understatement.
‘Great. Will do,’ I say, taking the card.
‘We’ve got to get back,’ Daniel says. ‘I need to stop by the office. I’ll drop you at Alice’s,’ he tells his wife.
She frowns. ‘I haven’t finished my tea, and Joel’s still colouring his picture.’
‘I can take them home,’ I offer, without really thinking.
Daniel hesitates, then nods. ‘That would be great. I’ll grab the car seat.’
He disappears outside to fetch it.
‘This is very kind of you,’ Joanna says.
‘No problem. I’m heading that way, anyway.’
Joel notices people at the next table, who are eating cake, and points at them. ‘Don’t point, darling,’ she says gently, pulling his hand down.
I glance at her. ‘Is he allowed?’
She nods. ‘He loves cake.’
I stand. ‘Would you like another tea?’
‘That would be lovely, thanks.’
I’m soon back with another cup of tea for Joanna and me, and a slice of cake for Joel. As I sit back down across from her, I feel absurdly proud, as though we are a family out for an afternoon treat. Joel devours his cake with joyful abandon.
‘How are your kids?’ she asks. ‘It’s half term, isn’t it?’
I try not to let any emotion show on my face. ‘Their mum’s taken them away for the week.’ I lower my gaze and sip the tea, not wanting to see pity in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says softly, resting her hand on mine.
The contact is electric. I have to fight the urge to pull away. I’m in trouble here.
‘I should get you home,’ I say, trying to sound casual.
‘I’ll pay the bill,’ she says, starting to rise.
‘I’ve got it.’
She reaches for her bag, and instinctively, I touch her hand.
‘No, really. It’s on me.’
She smiles. ‘Thanks.’
She lifts Joel from the chair while I carry the car seat. Part of me doesn’t want to lose her company. The other part wants to run before this gets complicated.
At the entrance to their apartment building, she turns to me and says, ‘Thanks, Neville. Don’t forget to send Danny your bank details.’
‘I won’t. And please… call me Nev.’
‘Sure,’ she says.
Then she disappears inside, with Joel in her arms, and I’m left standing at the door, wondering what the hell just happened.