It doesn’t take long to settle into a routine, and one of them is my early morning jog around the development. As soon as I wake, I pull on my running shoes and lycra and start the gentle jog, taking time to admire the place we now call home. As I turn the corner to the village green, my attention is drawn to the house with the pretty pink door. Ever since I heard the gossip about the place, I’ve been intrigued and have spent many hours just looking out of my window at the house behind us and imagining all sorts.
Jasmine and Nancy were right, they are certainly not keen gardeners because I’m not sure if they’ve planted one plant since they got there. From what I can see, the lawn is still just an enormous expanse of grass with no flower beds dug out and although it is obviously cut regularly, there is no other sign of life except the windows that are open daily.
As I jog past the front of the property, it’s as if nobody’s at home. Occasionally, I’ve seen a black car parked on the driveway, but again no sign of life from the front. The curtains are never open and the windows are dirty, telling me they don’t think cleaning them is of any importance. Is it a company house? It could be, and yet for some reason I am developing an unhealthy obsession with the place.
As I jog, I think about our first few weeks here. It didn’t take long to settle in and with every passing day; I thank God we moved here. This is the place I’ve always dreamed of raising my family. Unlike London, the pace of life is slower, the surrounding space bigger, and the air appears cleaner. Gone are the dusty, noisy streets of a city where its inhabitants coexist in close proximity and here in Meadow Vale, the streets are wider, the houses larger and the people friendlier. Well, most of them, anyway.
As I jog around the village green, I look with interest at the houses that back onto ours and see the familiar designs set around a green space with virtually no noise. Maybe it’s the lack of life this early in the morning that heightens my senses because for the entire circuit I feel as if I’m being watched. If there were any net curtains here, I would expect to see them twitching because it feels a little eerie as I pass houses impressive in design, hiding their inhabitants behind shuttered windows.
Half way round, my shoelace comes undone and I bend down to tie it, glad of a breather, and as I do, I hear a door slam and look up with interest. A man is heading out of a smart house nearby and as I look up, he raises his hand to wave.
“Good morning.”
Straightening up, I smile as he heads my way, briefcase in one hand and his car keys in another.
“Hey, I’ve seen you most mornings, which leads me to the conclusion you must live here. My name’s, Guy and I live here with Angela, my wife. Have you moved here recently?”
Glad of some friendly conversation, I smile, “Pleased to meet you, Guy, yes, I’ve moved into Sycamore Avenue.”
“Welcome, how are you finding it?”
“Good thanks, it’s a lovely development, we feel very lucky to live here.”
“Yes, same. What house type did you buy?”
“The Rose. We love it.”
I look at Guy’s house and see a similar house to ours, but a step up in design. It interests me to see the different houses and I’m itching to look inside to see the differences and how they’ve furnished it.
“Where did you move from?” Guy says with interest and I smile politely. “Streatham.”
“This must be quite a change for you then. We moved from Brighton, so it’s not a million miles away and was the best thing we ever did.”
“You like it here then?” My heart settles as he nods vigorously. “Yes, we should have moved years ago but then again, I’m a firm believer in fate and this place is that for us, anyway. Well, I should get to work. This place costs money and any spare, Angela disposes of extremely quickly. Hopefully we’ll see you for drinks one evening. Word of warning, there are a lot of those, maybe it’s because everyone’s new, we’re all keen to establish a community, so don’t be surprised if you find yourselves out a lot, it’s all good though.”
He nods politely. “Well nice to meet you…”
“Esme.”
I watch as he heads towards his car and think how nice he seemed. Everyone seems so nice and it strikes me that in the few weeks I’ve been here, I’ve met more people than the twenty years I spent in Streatham. We never socialised with our neighbours there. Everyone was too exhausted after working all day and once they closed their front doors, they only opened them for Deliveroo, or to go to work. This is a different life entirely, and I’m keen to see what that involves.
As I start the gentle jog home, I congratulate myself on a good move made and try to push aside the feeling of uneasiness that won’t go away. This is all a little too perfect, a little surreal and as if there’s an undercurrent of something that is definitely not normal.