When Mum met us from the coach at Caston, there was a big smile all over her face.
“Guess what. I think I’ve found us a house!”
“Oh, magic! Where is it? What’s it like?”
“Wait and see.”
We rattled back to Brilby on the bus, pestering Mum with questions. It was a bit like that game where you’re only allowed to answer Yes or No.
“How big a house?”
“Wait and see.”
“Is there a garden?”
“Wait and see.”
“Will we have a bedroom each?”
‘Wait and see. We’ll have a look round it after tea.”
“Oh,” I said, disappointed. “It’s in Brilby, then?”
“Yes,” said Mum, caught off guard for a moment.
“But Mum! Why Brilby?” I cried. “Caston would be better. At least there’s things to do in Caston…”
“I’ve thought about this a lot. If we stay in Brilby we’ll be near Gran. She can be there when you come home from school, Emily. You know I don’t get back till half-past five – and I don’t like the thought of you going home to an empty house. And Gran can make your tea if I get held up at work.”
“Yuk, I hate Gran’s cooking – pale grey mince and lumpy custard.”
“Both on the same plate?” said Tom.
“Oh, shut up. It’s all right for you, you don’t mind living in Brilby. You’re turning into a local yokel, you know that? You even talk like one sometimes.”
“Now then, now then,” said Mum. “As I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted, there’s another big advantage to Brilby.”
“Oh sure. What is it? As much rain as you can drink?”
“No. Cheap houses. If we buy this one, we might have enough left over to get a car as well. Now don’t get too excited, Tom, it wouldn’t be a Ferrari. Something small and second-hand. But at least it would get us about the place.”
“If we lived in Caston we wouldn’t need a car,” I muttered.
Mum sighed. “Oh, Emily. Give it a rest, will you? At least until you’ve seen the place.”
After tea we set out to inspect the house. Gran lives at the top end of Brilby, which is really just one long narrow street. We were heading for the bottom end – and my heart sank deeper, the lower we went. Deadly Emily lived somewhere down there.
All the houses in Brilby look much the same – grey stone walls, grey slate roofs. The endless rain has washed away any colours they once had. But strangely enough it wasn’t raining that evening. Over the moor was a blazing sunset which I suddenly wanted to paint.
We were almost out of the village when Mum stopped and knocked on a door. A smiling old lady opened it. (Brilby is full of old people – young ones escape as soon as they can.)
She showed us round the house, and I had to admit it wasn’t bad. Two rooms downstairs, plus a decent kitchen. And three bedrooms, so Tom and I could have a proper bedroom each. It all looked OK, except that there were dogs everywhere – china ones, that is. They were even in the toilet.
“Aren’t they lovely?” said the old lady. “They’ve been company for me since Fred died. Would you like to see the garden?”
The garden was nice – long and narrow, with the river running past at the bottom. The old lady said it was all too much for her since Fred died. She was moving to a flat in Caston.
“Are you taking all the china dogs?” I said.
“Oh yes,” she said, shocked. “I’ll find room for them somehow. At least they don’t need much in the way of exercise.”
Just then I heard a sharp voice on the other side of the garden wall. “Emily! Come in! Your tea’s getting cold.”
There was the sound of running feet, and a back door slammed. Tom and I looked at each other.
“What are the people next door like?” I asked.
“Oh, they’re a funny lot. Keep themselves to themselves. I don’t see much of them – never have done.” She leaned forward and whispered something to Mum, but her whisper was loud enough to hear: “I think he drinks.”
I said, “Is their name Smith? Is their daughter called Emily?”
“Yes, love. Do you know her?”
I tried to catch Mum’s eye, but she started on a long discussion about curtains and carpets. I couldn’t get a word in edgeways. At last we were out of the place and walking back up the hill.
“Well? What did you think?”
“Mum! We can’t live there! It’s right next door to Deadly Emily!”
“Yes,” said Mum calmly. “So?”
“But Mum!”
“I don’t see what’s so terrible about living next door to her. You needn’t see any more of her than you do at the moment, need you?”
“How do you know? You have no idea what she’s like! She’ll probably spy on me in the garden. She’ll see all my things when we’re moving in – and then laugh about them at school. I’m not living there! Never!”
“And what do you think, Tom?” said Mum.
“Er… it’s very near the river,” said Tom in a cautious kind of way. “Don’t you get rising damp and wet rot and stuff?”
I gave him a grateful look, but Mum said, “Of course, I’ll have the place checked over, just in case. At the moment it looks like very good value for money.”
“Money! That’s all you ever think about!”
“Emily, you know that’s not true. I’m trying to do what’s best for all of us. And I know we won’t find another house at that price – not unless it’s one that needs loads of work done on it. Do you want to go on living at Gran’s for ever and ever?”
“No. But I’d rather live at Gran’s than next door to Emily.”
“Who knows? She might be a bit more friendly if we are neighbours.”
“Oh yeah… and pigs might fly to Australia, non-stop, both ways.”