Love Thy Neighbour *editing*

"I'd love to see his peacock." (edited)

Chapter 2: “I’d love to see his peacock.”

“You live next door to a God,” Sian said matter-of-factly, running her fingers along the metal bars of the fence. “Like, an actual God.” She blinked, tucking a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “A God with an Irish accent.”

I rolled my eyes, dragging my feet against the cobbled pavement. Of course she’d find it hilarious. Hell, it was hard enough to convince her not to come over and peer through the window at him.

Besides; Niall Gallagher had become the talking point of Sixth Form by lunchtime. Girls cooed and squealed about his accent and the lads nodded curtly in a macho way of saying “you’re alright.” I, however, found it difficult to look him in the eye. Had he no shame? If I’d been caught in the position he’d been in, mortification would probably have prevented me from leaving the house for several days. But there he was; flaunting and strutting about like it was his God given right.

“I think you’re over exaggerating,” I pointed out. “Just slightly.”

“Oh, come on, Evie!” Sian snorted. “You were just as keen as the rest of us when you saw him! Just because he’s your neighbour doesn’t mean you can’t think he’s fit; if anything, you’ve got the best chance with him!”

“Sian, the guy had some woman up against my tree last night; I don’t want any sort of chance with him.”

Sian stopped, taking hold of my arm to stare at me. Confusion settled over her features, lips pinching and a dimple appearing between her eyebrows. Oh man…

“Sian,” I said slowly, resting my hands on her shoulders. “Looks aren’t everything; I like a bit of class in my men.”

“…Is that why you got with Denny?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes had lit up slightly, as though she knew she’d struck a nerve. Of course she did. She knew what sort of reaction she was about to get.

“This is not about Denny,” I said as calmly as I could. “This about my morally repugnant neighbour who seems to think of himself as some sort of preening peacock.”

“I’d love to see his peacock.”

Ew.

“Goodbye, Sian.” I rolled my eyes, turning down the entrance to the estate. I didn’t need to look back to know that she was standing there, considering following me. Which was exactly why I picked up speed, diving down a side alley that would act as a shortcut.

Normally, I didn’t mind the company of my best friend. But today she’d been insufferable, just like the rest of the female population of sixth form. It was like being friends with a lioness who had just been tossed a juicy great antelope.

A warm breeze rippled through the estate, a nice change from the cold weather we’d been having as the autumn weather had begun to take over. In the overgrown gardens stood long washing poles, sheets and clothes fluttering slightly as the wind took them. Children from the park across the green could be heard, laughing and screaming as they took advantage of what was left of the lighter evenings. Soon it would be cold and dark, and they’d be trapped in their houses, much to their chagrin.

I knew that my home was not where most people wanted to leave; a lot of the residents were only there because the council had had nowhere else to house them. But there was something halcyon about summer evenings on the estate, something rather magical about the way we united together.

Of course, there had been times where fights had broken out. There had been a couple at the bottom of our street who had been big drug users – heroin, pot, ketamine…you name it, they probably had it – who had been known to brawl outside their front door when they were high. The estate wasn’t the nicest place in the world, but I had grown up there, which instantly made me defend it when people at school decided to have a jibe.

The estate sort of set everyone on a level-playing ground. The old biddy on the other side of us had the same style of house, same size of garden and the same stretch of driveway; she had no reason to look down on us, and we had no reason to look down on her. It didn’t stop her glowering at me as I fought to put the key in the lock of the door – that manic, disapproving stare that says, “Why aren’t you at school?”

Our little house was well suited for the three of us. Three bedrooms, semi-detached, tastefully decorated. Albeit, the carpet was a little worn in the hallway where the traipse of many a visitor had graced it, and there were grubby fingerprints on some of the walls from when Tommy had melted chocolate on his hands and decided to try scented finger-painting.

I pushed the door open, immediately greeted by the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Laughter? In the day time? Laughter before wine o’clock?

My mother was sat at the kitchen table, cup of coffee in hand, laughing uproariously at something the woman in front of her had evidently said. The woman in question had painted red lips and dark curls that cascaded over her shoulders, and uneven bottom teeth. She looked up at me as I walked in, baby blue eyes lighting up.

“Oh! Evie!” mum trilled, getting to her feet. “This is Pam from next door!”

The woman – Pam – didn’t need to even open her mouth for me to know whose mother she was; it was obvious that this was the woman who had spawned the Adonis. She stuck out her hand to shake mine, the smile never leaving her face.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, getting to her feet. If the nauseating niceness hadn’t set my teeth on edge, it was the friendly hug that she engulfed my mother in that had me recoiling in horror.

Hugs! With someone we hardly knew! I tried to remember the last time I’d seen my mum hug anyone. Tommy and I were her children and we hardly ever hugged the woman! Who was this strange hugging creature?

And why was mum letting her?

“So have you met Niall?” mum asked when she’d returned from showing Pam out, turning the oven on. I looked up from my homework, pondering the best response.

“He’s in my registration class,” I said slowly, nodding my head in time with the words. “And he had sex in our garden last night.” I turned just in time to seem my mother snap her head round to look at me, eyes wide.

“Pardon?”

“Him, Niall,” I said, nodding out the window at the house across the fence. “He had sex in our garden last night.”

There was a lot of colour starting to form on my mother’s face; a reddish, purplish amalgamation that spread over her cheeks and had started to travel over her neck before she opened her mouth again.

“Oh. She spoke about him as though he was a nice boy.”

“He’s handsome,” I mused, helping myself to the contents of the fruit bowl. “Sian’s planning a seduction.”

“Sian is always planning a seduction.”

I laughed; my mother knew my best friend as well as I did.

“She’s invited us over for dinner,” mum continued, going into the freezer. “Friday night; you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll sit that one out!” I trilled brightly, trying to ignore the dread pooling at the bottom of my stomach. Was this how it was going to be? Bosom Buddies with the next door neighbours. Bosom Buddies with the Adonis who had sex in the bottom of the garden? Yeah, right.

There was no way that I was going to dinner with the Gallagher family. No way, no how.