The Family Across the Street by Nicole Trope

10

Gladys

‘I’ll tell you what they should do,’ says Lou, pointing at the television set, where a variety programme is on. ‘They should add a dog performing tricks to this.’

‘I’m sure one of the contestants did have a dog a few weeks back,’ says Gladys, ‘they voted him out.’ She doesn’t take her eyes from the television even though she’s not really watching. Occasionally she glances out of the large bay window where she and Lou have their small round breakfast table and two chairs. Sunshine streams in, colouring the timber table orange, and even though she doesn’t want to be out in the heat, the sharp green of the grass against the bright blue of the sky begs to be experienced.

‘No one appreciates true entertainment anymore.’

Gladys hates the variety programme but Lou refuses to watch anything else, despite every streaming platform available to them. He doesn’t seem to be able to concentrate on a movie long enough to keep the characters straight, and he nods off during series, waking only to get angry at her for continuing to watch without him. She is only sitting with him in the cool living room because he has been calling for her all morning. He seems to need her right next to him today. She thinks it may be because his routine with Peter has been interrupted. He prefers Peter to help him bathe and shave and Gladys has not made a good job of it. There are two cuts on his chin from the razor.

‘Don’t you think?’ he asks, and she realises that she hasn’t replied to him.

‘Probably not,’ she agrees. ‘It’s time for your medication, Lou. Do you want to have a snack with it?’

‘I wouldn’t say no to a nice peach. Do we have any peaches?’

‘We do,’ says Gladys, and she hears the small sigh from Lou. He wanted there to be no peaches so that he could protest and fuss. Before he can say anything else, she leaves the living room and goes to the kitchen, where she selects and washes a peach, cutting it up into pieces that are easy for Lou to eat but big enough for his trembling hands to pick up. She pops a piece into her mouth, savouring the tangy sweet taste that always feels like summer in a mouthful. Gladys feels the peach stick in her throat at the idea that there is nothing to look forward to except the loss of Lou. Stop being silly, she admonishes herself.

She takes the peach back to Lou and hands him his pills, watches in silence as he swallows them like a child.

‘Where are you going now?’ he asks when she leaves again.

‘The tumble dryer is done. I’m just going to take the linen upstairs and put it away.’

‘You never sit still for a second,’ he says irritably.

Gladys bites down on her harsh words. ‘I’ll only be a minute,’ she says.

Once the linen is safely and neatly put away, she goes into the guest bedroom to see if Katherine has finally opened the blinds in the children’s rooms but they remain closed, the house silent and glowering in the hot morning.

She studies them for a minute, wondering why this is bothering her so much. She can think of a hundred reasons why she should not even be thinking about this but something keeps niggling at her and she has no idea what. What did Sophie mean by something strange going on in the house? Has the child also felt the tension between her parents?

Gladys rubs at a spot on the window. Are the Wests planning to divorce?

Does Katherine want the divorce or does John? Or both of them? She hopes they don’t do it, if only for the sake of the children. Katherine would put the twins’ needs first. Gladys knows that she’s a very passionate and loving mother. She’d had the help of her own mother until the middle of last year, when Janet lost her life to a heart attack. Katherine was devastated. Perhaps losing her mother has made her question everything in her life. Losing a loved one can make a person look at everything differently. Even the understanding that Lou will not be around for many more years has changed the way Gladys approaches her own life. Nothing seems to interest her that much anymore.

One of the blinds twitches a little and, to her amazement, as she watches, two small hands appear holding a white piece of paper. There is something written on the paper in thick blue marker, but Gladys can’t see what it says. She needs her glasses for everything but she left them by the television set. She looks frantically around the guest room and is overjoyed to remember that Lou keeps his birdwatching binoculars in the guest room cupboard. ‘Don’t go away, don’t go away,’ she repeats as she frantically untangles the strap and puts the binoculars against her eyes, adjusting the lenses until she can see what’s written on the paper in shaky letters.

Halp Us

Help us. It says help us in a child’s handwriting. A chill goes through Gladys as she pulls her phone out of her pocket – meaning to take a picture to show Lou so he believes something is going on – but the little hands with the sign disappear abruptly and the blinds remain closed.

Gladys waits, her heart thudding in her chest, but there is no more movement from the house, and the longer she stares at the closed blinds, the more she questions what just happened.

She goes back downstairs on shaky legs. ‘You won’t believe what I’ve just seen,’ she says to Lou.

‘The linen cupboard, I imagine,’ says Lou, a spark of his old humour flaring up.

‘No, I’m being serious, Lou. I was in the spare bedroom checking if the blinds were open in Katherine’s house—’

He frowns and interrupts her. ‘What is your obsession with her blinds? You sound a bit mad, Gladys. She’s keeping them closed to keep out the heat, it’s a simple thing. Why won’t you leave it alone?’

‘Now you listen to me, Lou Philips, stop interrupting me! You’re being very rude,’ says Gladys, her voice sharp and high.

Lou’s shoulders bow a little and he sinks further into his chair. He hates it when she shouts at him. ‘Sorry, old girl,’ he mumbles, an unusual thing for him to say, and Gladys feels a familiar tap of guilt on her shoulder. He doesn’t mean to be like he is.

She goes over to sit next to him in her own leather chair. ‘It’s fine, love, but I wanted to tell you what I saw, so let me explain.’

‘All right, then.’ He gives her his full attention, still contrite about yelling at her.

‘One of the children held up a sign in the window, a handwritten sign, and it said, “Help us.” I mean “help” was spelled incorrectly but it definitely said, “Help us.”’ She takes out her phone, wishing she had a picture, and then shoves it back into her pocket, stands up and sits down again, the image of the sign appearing before her. Did she see what she thinks she saw?

‘That’s a bit odd,’ he concedes.

‘I know,’ says Gladys, relieved that he believes her even as she questions herself. ‘I told you something odd was going on over there. I think I should march over and demand Katherine open the door, or maybe I should just call the police.’

‘Listen, love,’ says Lou kindly, ‘I know that it’s hard being here with me all day, especially when you would rather be out. I know that but I think that you might need to take a little walk or something. I’ll be fine on my own for a bit.’

Irritation flares in Gladys at being dismissed as simply imagining things because she’s cooped up in the house. She thought he was on her side in this now. She struggles for a moderate tone, knowing that he is attempting kindness. ‘Something is happening in that house. I just know it.’ Gladys twists her hands together, anxiety gnawing at her. Yesterday –the thing she didn’t tell Lou about – comes back to her. But it’s obviously nothing to do with what’s happening at Katherine’s and she sees no reason to worry Lou when there is little he can do about it.

‘Maybe she and John had a big fight and they’re all just having a day to calm down. That might be why the kids are unsettled and making a game out of it. Remember when you thought I was flirting with the new secretary at work?’

‘That was years ago, Lou.’ She sighs and rubs at her forehead where she can feel a headache coming on.

‘Yes, but we fought all night and then the next day we both just took the day off and sorted ourselves out a bit. Sometimes a couple needs space to sort themselves out. The children may just be playing. If you call the police, I don’t think Katherine and John will appreciate it. No one in the neighbourhood ever does when you get involved.’

‘But John is out, isn’t he? You heard him leave this morning, you said.’

‘Did I say that?’ asks Lou, looking confused.

‘I should call Katherine…’

‘You’re just interfering. People will start to think you’re crazy.’

‘Lou, John left early this morning, just screeched off, making enough noise to wake you, that’s what you said before. Maybe they had a big fight. Maybe he… maybe he hit her or something… I don’t know. Maybe she needs help and that’s why the children made the sign. Surely you can see that something may be wrong?’

She pulls her mobile phone out of the front pocket of her apron, spilling a couple of tissues onto the floor, which she then has to bend down to retrieve.

‘Well, just call Katherine, then.’

Gladys is quiet.

‘I said just call her, then,’ repeats Lou.

‘Yes, well, I have done,’ she admits, ‘four times already and she hasn’t answered.’ She looks down at her phone, biting her lip. What is the right thing to do?

Lou’s eyes widen. ‘You’re going to get arrested for harassment, Gladys. Imagine you in jail! What will I do then?’ He pulls at the fabric of his shirt and shakes his head as he speaks. ‘What will I do?’ he moans again.

She moves quickly to reassure him, resting a hand gently on his fidgeting fingers.

‘That’s not possible, Lou,’ she comforts him. ‘I won’t call Katherine again. I’ll just call John at work quickly and then I can put this whole thing out of my mind. It will only take a minute. I’ll just ask after the children and… Oh look, I don’t know, I’ll make something up. I’ll call him at work.’

‘How come you have John’s work number?’

‘I don’t have it, but I know he works at Barker and Partners, don’t I? Katherine gave me a whole collection of notebooks from his company because she said they were changing their logo. I’m going to call, and if he sounds even a little cagey on the phone, then I’ll march back over there and see what’s happening.’ She doesn’t look at him as she speaks, but down at her phone instead. She’s not going to give him a chance to talk her out of this.

Lou folds his arms and waits.

Gladys peers at her phone through her glasses, slowly typing the name of John’s company into Google. ‘Ha,’ she says triumphantly when she finds it and presses on the number on the webpage entry. Katherine was very proud when she told her that John had made partner in his firm. It’s a big company with over a hundred employees. Gladys knows because she looked it up.

‘Yes, hello,’ she says to the woman with a very competent voice who answers. Gladys clears her throat. ‘I’m hoping to speak to Jonathon West.’

‘May I ask who’s calling and what it’s in reference to?’ says the woman.

Gladys contemplates the truth but decides that a quick lie would probably get her further. ‘I’m his next-door neighbour and I think that there is a pipe leaking in his backyard. I can’t get hold of his wife and I’m worried that it’s going to flood the house.’ Gladys crosses her fingers. The truth would have sounded very strange. The convenient lie just popped out. She did once have to phone Katherine because they had left the hose on for hours while they filled the swimming pool, and the water level just kept rising. Gladys had looked out of her bedroom window and seen that it was going to overflow. ‘Thanks goodness you called,’ Katherine told her afterwards.

‘Just a moment, I’ll see if he’s available.’

Gladys looks over at Lou and he nods his head. He’s interested now as well. They both need to know that Katherine is okay. She feels sort of motherly towards the young women in the neighbourhood. Katherine’s mother is no longer here to protect her daughter, and sometimes younger women need the help of an older and perhaps wiser woman.

‘I’m sorry, Mr West didn’t come into work this morning,’ says the woman, returning to the call.

‘Oh, are you sure he’s not just in a meeting? I’m happy to leave a message.’

‘I’m afraid not. As I said, he didn’t come in today at all.’

‘Well, where is he then?’

The woman hesitates. ‘His assistant did not give me that information,’ she says.

‘Oh, perhaps I’ll call him directly. Can I get his mobile number?’

‘Didn’t you say you were his neighbour?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then don’t you have his mobile number?’

‘I ah… no.’

‘I’m afraid I cannot give out personal numbers for staff. Thank you,’ says the voice, and she efficiently hangs up.

Gladys turns to Lou and says, ‘If he didn’t go to work today, then where is he?’

‘At home, maybe,’ suggests Lou.

‘But he left this morning, you said so. If he’d come home again, we would have heard, and why would he have come home again in the middle of the day?’

Her husband shrugs his shoulders. ‘He did leave very quickly and he made a lot of noise and I thought… I thought…’

‘You thought what?’ asks Gladys, trying to hide her impatience at his trailing off in the middle of a sentence.

‘Heavens, Gladys, I’ve just remembered he came back. He did, he came back about ten minutes later and I thought, “What’s he doing home again?” I heard the garage door go up. I heard his car pull into the driveway. He came back, Gladys, I just forgot.’

‘Oh, Lou,’ she says gently, ‘why didn’t you say so?’

‘I forgot, love, just forgot until right now. I mean it’s not something we usually pay attention to, is it? I’m sorry.’ He is apologising again and she doesn’t like to hear it. Strangely, she prefers it when he’s gruff. It means he’s feeling more like his old self.

She sighs. ‘It’s not your fault, it’s just… things feel so strange today.’ She frowns, crossing her arms. ‘So how long did he stay after he came back? Is he still there?’

Lou turns to stare at her, the look on his face telling her he’s bewildered by her question.

‘I don’t know,’ he says, ‘I must have drifted off again.’ He turns back to the television. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing, love. We’re making a mountain out of a… molehill, that’s it. It’s nothing. They’re just having a day at home.’

‘I really don’t think so,’ says Gladys, standing up. She goes to the window, looks out onto the quiet street where nothing moves in the heat. Even the lorikeets have found some place out of the sun to sleep away the day.

She looks at her phone. Does one call the police because they are worried about a neighbour simply because her husband is not at work and the children haven’t gone to school?

Lou watches her quietly. ‘Look, maybe they had a tiff and they’re sorting it out now. Maybe she decided to keep the kids home from school because of the heat. Any number of things could have happened. I say we watch one of those crime series you like, the one with the doctor, you know. What about that, old girl?’

Gladys turns to stare at the television, where a new kind of mattress is being advertised. Lou is right. No one ever appreciates a visit from the police. But that’s what they’re there for, to maintain law and order. It’s not as if she calls them that often. She didn’t call them after the little incident yesterday. She wanted to, but she didn’t.

A news break comes on and the story of the young woman who was attacked in Melbourne is the headline. ‘The twenty-five-year-old woman assaulted two days ago is in an induced coma in Melbourne’s Footscray Hospital. Neighbours report hearing arguing in the days prior to the assault.’

Do you hear that? she thinks. They heard them arguing and did nothing and now look at that poor girl, look what’s happened to her. People are so quick to recommend you keep your nose out of their business but what if they need help? What if they really need help? She doesn’t say any of this to Lou because there’s no point. She tunes back into what the dark-haired reporter on the television is saying.

‘Police are appealing to the public to help identify and locate this man, last seen leaving the apartment on the night of the assault.’

A grainy image of a young man in a red baseball cap is shown leaving the building on the CCTV.

‘That could be anyone,’ says Lou.

‘Yes,’ agrees Gladys, although there is something about him that looks vaguely familiar. She has no idea why.

A stern-looking policeman appears on the television, his hat shading his eyes from the sun. ‘All we are asking for is help in locating this individual. We can neither confirm nor deny his involvement in the assault of the young lady. We are hoping he will come forward himself to assist police with their enquiries.’

‘Good thing he’s not here in Sydney,’ says Lou.

‘Yes,’ agrees Gladys, ‘a very good thing. That poor girl.’

It’s strange that the man on the television seems familiar. She shakes her head. Maybe the heat is getting to her despite the air conditioning. As the news changes to another story, the image of the man on the television lingers. Just like the problem of Katherine’s silent house and what on earth she should do about it.