Letting out a huge sigh, he peered through the windows to the street beyond. To his surprise he saw two women coming towards the pub. Curiously, he put his head closer to the glass. He recognised one of them. He’d seen her out jogging. Jogging! The very thought of it made him laugh, as he’d watched her from his newly decorated lounge. He’d called her the pink lady and had laughed out loud when he saw that she reached the end of the street and turned the corner red faced. ‘That bloody woman doesn’t run anywhere apart from the bottom of the street and then she stands around the corner having a cigarette. For someone who runs every day, she doesn’t half look purple in the face and gasp for breath a lot,’ he had joked with Maggie and Deana.
‘Maggie!’ he called now. ‘The witches of Eastwick are coming calling.’
Hearing Maggie’s feet coming down the stairs, he carried on watching the two women from his spot at the window.
‘The who? Who is it Alex and should I be concerned?’ Frowning, Maggie walked over to the window where Alex was stood.
‘Them two, there. It looks like those busybodies are coming calling. They’ve waited long enough to look polite, but here they come. I’ll leave you to it Maggie. You wanted suburbia, and I guarantee they are nosey bastards. On your head be it.’ He laughed and walked out of the room as the expected knocking on the door started.
Checking herself in the mirror, and cursing herself for not having time to change her paint-splashed top, Maggie opened the door and smiled. ‘Hello, can I help you? I’m sorry I don’t look my best, but there’s been a lot to do!’ Excusing herself as politely as possible, she looked on as an earthenware dish was pushed towards her.
‘I’m Olivia and this is Emma. We live at number 73 and 75. We would have come sooner but we didn’t want to intrude. We’ve cooked this lasagne to welcome you to the neighbourhood. Well, I have…’ Olivia beamed. ‘It’s my special recipe. I thought it might come in handy while you’re busy setting everything up.’
The other woman, Emma, thrust a bunch of flowers towards Maggie.
‘And these are from me. Welcome to the neighbourhood.’ They waited.
Taken aback, Maggie put the bunch of flowers under her arm and took the lasagne. ‘Thank you, Olivia, Emma. I’m Maggie, Maggie Silva. I would ask you in, but we’re in a bit of chaos at the moment,’ she lied. ‘But we will be open in a couple of days, so be sure to pop in for a drink on the house.’
‘Silver? I do hope your husband isn’t called Long John.’ Olivia laughed.
‘Not that spelling.’ Maggie smiled. ‘And believe me, that joke has been done many times. It’s Silva, with an A. It’s Portuguese.’
Slightly embarrassed, Olivia nodded. ‘Well, that is different – sorry.’ Maggie could tell Olivia was itching to see inside. ‘You have two children, don’t you? I’ve seen you with them down the local shop.’
‘Yes, my kids are called Deana and Dante. I think I’ve seen you both around, too.’ Mentally, Maggie thought about Alex’s nickname for the pink lady and smiled.
‘We can let you know where the local schools and colleges are. Avril, a little further up, is a teacher. Maybe she can put in a good word for you.’ Tapping her nose as though keeping a secret, Olivia grinned. ‘It’s not what you know, Mrs Silva, it’s who, especially around here.’
Giving her a knowing look, Maggie smiled. Inwardly, she wanted to laugh. These two were better than the Spanish Inquisition. ‘That would be lovely. Every little helps. Anyway, I had better go and put this in the oven, and thank you for the flowers – both of you. I’ll return the dish as soon as possible.’ She smiled and closed the door. Hearing a cough behind her, Maggie looked up the stairs and saw Alex standing on the landing.
‘Very well executed, Maggie love. They will be the first of many. Long John Silver my arse.’ He burst out laughing and walked away, leaving Maggie holding the lasagne dish. Her heart sank. She had to be on her guard – they all did – they knew that. Each day felt like walking on eggshells. But she had come through it and for now Olivia and Emma had just enough gossip to spread around the neighbourhood. She hoped she hadn’t given too much away.
‘Ooh Mum that looks good.’ Taking the lid off the earthenware dish, Deana sniffed at the freshly made lasagne. ‘Crikey, we could feed the whole village on that. How many of us do those old biddies think live here?’
‘Old biddies? Cheeky bugger! That Olivia looks younger than me. Still, it’s a nice thought though, isn’t it?’
‘If you say so Mum; personally, I’m with Dad. They thought it was a passport into the Silva palace. They can wait and pay like the rest of them,’ Deana laughed. Taking the dish out of Maggie’s hands, she put it in the oven.
‘My Deana, who made a housewife out of you?’ Maggie laughed as she watched her usually uncooperative daughter.
Both women laughed and began setting the table.
‘Wow, something smells good. Which takeaway was that?’ A hungry Dante followed his nose into the kitchen.
‘This is the Olivia and Emma takeaway, otherwise known as considerate neighbours introducing themselves. Along with those lovely flowers. See?’ Maggie pointed to the vase she had filled and put on the long dining table.
Not impressed by the vase of flowers, Dante took a seat at the table and waited patiently. ‘Is it ready yet?’
‘Five minutes, let me just fill a jug full of sparkling water and put some lemon in and then we can start. Where’s your dad?’
‘Out back, looking at the beer garden. He has no idea what he’s looking at, so he’s talking about sorting out a gardener, or asking the brewery if they can provide one. I said we should do it ourselves and then claim it back on expenses.’
‘Ooh, listen to the accountant,’ Deana joked. ‘He might not be as good looking as me but he has brains, I’ll give him that!’
‘Of course he has. He’s a natural-born mathematician my Dante, aren’t you love?’ Maggie grinned, then opened the oven door and let the smell of the lasagne waft out into the kitchen. ‘Deana, get the salad bowl out of the fridge, and that crusty French bread; it will go with this nicely.’
Alex walked into the large kitchen. With its eight-seater dining table, the freshly painted white walls made it look even brighter under the spotlights and the warmth of the oven made it feel homely. ‘What’s this feast? Is this your present from the pink ladies?’
‘You make them sound like the girls from Grease. I presume you’re their dark-haired Danny Zuko from the T-Birds, eh?’ Jokingly, Maggie waved her serving spoon at him as though to hit him, but burst out laughing.
He laughed. ‘I think we need a celebration night.’ Waving a bottle of red wine in the air and searching through the drawers for a corkscrew, he grinned. ‘This place is just about finished. All we need is a restock of alcohol, a tidy up and your name above the door, Maggie. Then we can begin our new life. But tonight, let’s just be a family and drink this red wine. Dante, even you can have half a small glass. Tonight is for us.’ Reaching in the cupboard, Alex took out four wine glasses. As they sat around the table, Alex raised his glass. ‘To the Silva family and new beginnings.’ Each of them raised their glasses in return.
‘To new beginnings!’ they chorused.
The next day, Maggie walked down the street towards Emma’s and Olivia’s houses, clean earthenware dish in hand. As she approached the gate, Olivia’s door seemed to open instantly, as though she had seen Maggie approaching from the window. She ran to greet her.
‘Thank you so much Olivia, your lasagne was absolutely lovely.’
‘You’re so welcome Maggie.’ Opening the door a little wider, Olivia invited her in for a coffee. Maggie sensed that this was for another interrogation and, given the long day she had in front of her, declined. ‘Another time. We’re busy finishing up the place. Now the workmen have gone, it all needs a good sweep and a tidy.’ Maggie felt slightly embarrassed and a fraud. These people she was now rubbing shoulders with had earnt their suburban houses in Kent through hard work. Most of them would have been born and bred in the area and had never known anything else. Whereas the Silva family came from a very different background. ‘I do hope you’ll come to the opening of the pub tomorrow evening, though. The restaurant is opening at the weekend, but it would be nice if a few of the neighbours could pop in to say hello. Maybe you could spread the word. All drinks are two for one. A happy hour for a grand opening, you might say.’ Maggie blushed.
‘Oh, I most definitely will spread the word. Everyone is dying to meet you!’
Maggie waved goodbye and made her way back to the pub.
