Number eighteen had been vacant for quite some time. It was a semi-detached house just like the Makintoshes’ but smaller. The previous tenants were Mr and Mrs Smith. Mrs Smith had died the previous year, having contracted pneumonia. The old man could not cope on his own and decided to go into a care home. They had lived in the house for more than thirty years and kept to themselves but had no children. Ron used to pop round now and again to check if they were all right.
The Makintoshes’ house was much bigger, with four bedrooms, a large living room, and a massive garden. Their large family had lived there for more than a decade, and it was an ideal size for them. A lot had been put in maintenance, for which they were proud.
They had carefully tailored the vast garden, creating an artistic landscape with many interesting features, including a fish pond in the far corner. There were gold and multicoloured fish, which Ron liked very much. He always said that the one with black and white stripes was staring at him. Maria thought that was rather ridiculous. He would stand by the pond every evening watching the fish taking food tossed in for them.
Other parts of the garden had beautifully arranged flower beds in colours of red, yellow, purple, and blue. Another feature one couldn’t miss was the fountain. It was a beautifully crafted statue holding a pot from which water poured into a large designed basin. The garden had been Ron’s passion all those years as he played and enjoyed it with the children, but now it had become a white elephant, and it found it unnecessarily big. He was still proud to show it off to visitors to the house.
‘That house next door is smaller,’ Ron casually said to his wife one day, ‘but it’s ideal for a single person or a small family. It has potential if given TLC.’
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed at all. By the way, why the sudden interest Ron?’
‘A new teacher wants a house to rent, and I think she will be pleased with it.’
‘Hm. That’s interesting. Why would you want to live close to someone you work with? I wouldn’t, because they would likely be nosy into your private matters,’ Maria reasoned.
‘Ah, I haven’t thought about that. You women think deeply when it comes to matters concerning privacy. Don’t worry, it’s just a suggestion. Pretend I never brought it up.’
‘Oh, what am I seeing?’ Maria said suddenly, looking out the window. ‘There are two men and a woman going to the house—and they have just entered the property.’
‘When?’ Ron asked
‘Now. Ron, they may be looking at it. It’s about time someone moved in. I looks as if there is going to be a new tenant,’ Maria said with interest.
And there was. The new tenant in number 18 was a nurse in her early thirties. She was a single mother with two young boys of schoolgoing age. The boys were excited when they were introduced to the Makintoshes and began to call them Uncle Ron and Aunty Maria. They were just like a subfamily within a family. The boys would pop round to assist Ron in the garden, feed the fish, and watch them swim. He even bought a football and would watch the boys play against each other; he did sometimes kick with them in the large garden. They were a company, as their own children were no longer living at home.
The boys’ mother was named Shirley. Maria would invite her in for tea, and they chatted about everything.
One day Shirley told her, ‘I am the only child to my parents and was a difficult one, which I am not proud of. I made sure I got my own way and gave my parents no choice in deciding for me. I gave them a tough time, and I am ashamed of how I treated them and regret all of it. I can’t apologize enough.’
She narrated some of the crazier exploits that got her into trouble. She recalled leaving home with some boys in her class. She took the lead, went into a shop, and took two big bottles of whisky from the shelf without being noticed. They headed to the woods and got themselves drunk.
They then managed to drag themselves from the woods, and on their way to town, one of the boys suggested they enter the house at the corner. ‘None of us objected to the idea; we thought it was fun,’ she said. ‘We jumped over the fence and got into the garden and tried to open the door, but when we couldn’t, I picked up a concrete flowerpot and threw it at the window. The noise attracted the next-door neighbour who shouted at us. We laughed and went out of the property the way we came in. I was the only female among the boys and got all the attention. I felt good and comfortable among them.
‘The police were at our door that very evening. I couldn’t deny the crime because the neighbour knew us very well, and that hadn’t been the first time. Mum was very upset but paid for the damages. I honestly regret all these stupid events. I have learnt my lessons, and I am a changed person now.’
On another occasion, Shirley told Maria how she became pregnant at an early age. She could not complete secondary school when it happened, she said. She narrated that as she went on the rails, she eventually fell out with her parents. ‘To be honest, my parents were not surprised when I became pregnant.’
Shirley had her son not knowing who the father was. She said it was a bitter experience and brought shame to the family. It took quite some time for her father to come to terms with the situation. Her parents forgave her but not until she promised them she would go back to complete her secondary education.
Shirley’s mother then took it upon herself to raise her grandson. Shirley did very well in her exams and completed sixth form with a good grade. She gained admission to the university and did nursing. After her education she fell in love with a colleague at the nursing school; he was a married man and she got pregnant quickly with her second son. Her lover promised to leave his wife for her, but it never happened. Her mother as usual was very supportive and had given a helping hand. Shirley said she was getting frail, however, and she felt she had to take the responsibility to look after her own children.
She also said she had gone off men. ‘They are up to no good,’ she said. ‘I would rather concentrate on looking after my sons. Maybe one day I’ll change my mind about them.’
Maria had listened to her story with interest mixed with sympathy at her having to raise children single-handed and her disastrous relationships. ‘Shirley, you are entitled to your own opinion, but I can assure you that there is a man out there for you. Go and find him when you are ready.’
‘You might be right. When I am ready, l will find him, but for now my sons come first.’
‘Good girl,’ Maria said.
Maria kept an eye on her and her two boys. Shirley called Ron into her house on several occasions to fix things for her; he had assembled the wardrobe and tightened bolts in the sink.
It was not long until Maria began to notice things—or was it insecurity, considering that she was older with a young female in the vicinity? She had noticed Ron standing by the window and gazing at the other house, as if waiting for something to happen. She was growing suspicious about Ron’s attitude but brushed it away due to work pressures. She consoled herself that she need to trust her man; he had been a faithful husband for all these years. But the thought wouldn’t go away. It kept nagging her. The paranoia was getting out of hand.
She confided in a friend at work. ‘Ron has been behaving funny recently, and something smells fishy. I can’t figure what, but something is definitely not right with him. His concentration has gone really bad.’
‘Really? But Ron is a gentleman—we all know,’ he reasoned. ‘Maybe something is bothering his mind … debt, maybe. These payday lenders make it look like there is nothing wrong taking their money, but before you know it, you are in serious debt.’
‘Money? I don’t think so. It can’t be money.’
‘What then, Maria?’
‘The house next door,’ Maria replied weakly
‘What about the house next door?’
‘The tenant is a nurse and single. You know how some men feel about nurses.’
‘Oh my God, don’t tell me he is cheating.’ His shock was obvious.
‘I’m not sure, so I can’t say that. Shirley next door is a good neighbour, and we are getting on well. I don’t want to think it of her.’
‘But if you feel like that, why don’t you find out? Get a private investigator’ he advised her. ‘What is it that Ron is doing that makes you feel suspicious?’
‘Shirley comes in for a cup of tea on weekends, and we all have it together and chat. But these days, Ron gets nervous when she is around and finds excuses to go away from the table. He starts watering the flowers or just gets busy. I think he is scared that one of them will let the cat out of the bag.’
‘What about the lady in question—what does she do?’
‘Nothing; that’s why I begin to doubt. I sometimes think I am the one going mad.’
‘You are being paranoid, Maria. Ron is a gentleman; maybe he is just allowing you two to have girly times. I presume that’s all,’ her colleague reasoned.
‘Hm. You may be right; it could be my imagination.’ Maria’s uncertainty remained.
She thought about her colleague’s suggestion to get a private investigator. She’d known someone years ago when she was in law school. Jason had expressed an interest in private investigation and had been hired a few times by people to spy on their boyfriends and girlfriends, but that was almost thirty years ago. She decided to search on Facebook to see if she might be lucky enough to find him. He was there and actually living within five miles of the Mackintoshes. It was a surprise that they had never bumped into each other at the shops.
Maria told him what her problem was and what she wanted him to do for her. Jason was more than willing to collect the information for his onetime schoolmate. He would track Ron’s movements for six months and tap Shirley’s telephone conversations, all to unveil any ongoing relationship between the two. He assured Maria that he had been doing the job for several years and would surely get answers to her dilemma.
Maria and Ron were working together in the back garden one weekend when the postman delivered a letter. Ron picked it up and looked at it carefully. It was from a law agency. He decided to wait till later to open it. They carried on working until midday when the high sun was making it uncomfortable in the garden. They both went inside, where Maria made a sandwich for lunch and wondered what the letter was for.
Ron read the letter, which announced that the insurance on the farm was going to expire and needed to be renewed. As Maria battled with her insecurity, news reached Ron from his sister. It was about their inherited estate. The occupiers have taken legal action against them. Ron could not understand the issue. He was aware of the insurance renewal, but there seemed to be other problems, and his sister sounded anxious and agitated. Ron had to leave the next day to see his sister and discuss the matter.
Later that evening, after Ron had left, Maria recalled a conversation with a lady she had met in one of her business meetings. ‘Marriage is of no value to men. They are lairs, all of them—liars!’ the woman had declared angrily and looked at her for approval.
Maria had shaken her head. ‘I won’t say that. Not all men are liars. There are some who are genuinely faithful.’ She uttered those words confidently, with Ron in mind.
‘Are you married?’ the woman asked.
‘Yes, I am,’ Maria replied proudly.
The lady looked at her with visible pity. ‘You must be among the lucky few, I presume,’ she said sadly. ‘My husband of ten years left for an older woman, old enough to be his mother. He said it just happened, and he loves her. He just left the house. He made a vow to ignore all other women; he promised for better for worse. I don’t get it.’ She looked distraught and unhappy.
Maria felt sorry for her; poor woman, she must be going through a hard time. ‘So what is happening now?’ she asked.
‘Divorce,’ the woman replied and began to cry.
Maria had patted her shoulder and advised her to be brave and be happy for her child. The woman had cried some more but then stopped suddenly, apologizing for her behaviour. On reflection, Maria remembered vividly the woman’s mood on that day. She could see how scared and sad she was and grew frightened at the memory. She was expecting the worst, as her sixth sense keep nagging her that her husband was up to no good with the lady at number 18. She prayed that her guess was not right.
She paced up and down the lounge and went into the bedroom, where she started looking into Ron pockets and digging through his work bag. Then she had a phone call. It was Ron. She felt relieved at hearing from him. He had arrived at the village safely. They stayed on the phone for some few minutes and kissed each other goodnight.
Shirley had told her that she was going away and had sent the boys to her mother. She did not believe her, so she went next door. The house was empty. She returned and sat on the couch, hands to her chin, thinking.