The Perfect Neighbors: A gripping psychological thriller with an ending you won’t see coming. Rachel Sargeant

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       14

      Thursday, 6 May

      Helen stood on the doorstep to see Gary off to work. Her smile made her face ache; she was turning into a proper housewife. Gary’s mobile rang on the hall table. The screen said: Steve C calling. She grabbed the phone and caught up with him by the car, but Gary cancelled the call.

      “Not important then?” she asked.

      “It’s just some insurance guy who rings me now and again,” he said, starting the engine. “I’m surprised he bothers; I never buy anything.” He drove off, waving his arm out of the window.

      Helen waved until he disappeared round the corner, and she thought it was strange that he’d added an insurance salesman to his list of contacts. But then he was a sociable man with twice as many Facebook friends as she had.

      She darted away from the kitchen window when Louisa came across the road. She was carrying a file of papers. The woman lived her life in other people’s houses. What was it this time: Parents’ Association agendas for Audrey Garcia, the American teacher at number 3; spaniel-masking aromatherapy brochures for Karola Barton at number 1; or corrections to the swim club minutes for Mel at number 7?

      She cursed herself for hiding – so what if Louisa saw her? She was in her own home. Louisa didn’t control everything; the swim class last night proved that. Louisa had deposited her with the instructor called John, insisting that she couldn’t possibly be let loose with a group of her own until she’d been “assessed”. But John had different ideas and gave her five children out of his class of twelve to teach front crawl.

      “You’ll warm to Louisa in the end,” he said.

      “How long will that take?”

      “Until the Christmas social. She holds it at her house. All the booze you can drink. Best club chair I’ve ever worked for.”

      The swimming class had been an excitable bunch of 7 year olds. She recognized one of them as the dark-haired boy from number 6, the house opposite hers. Afterwards his parents introduced themselves in the foyer.

      “My name is Dimitris and my wife is Maria. I am an exchange teacher from Greece. I normally run the history department at a school in Athens.”

      Helen smiled. “You speak excellent English and I think your son must do too; he understood his swimming lesson.”

      “Alexandros learns quickly. Only my wife has no chance to learn.”

      “I’m sure she’ll pick it up.” An idea occurred to Helen. “I could help. I’m a teacher too but I’m not working at the moment.”

      “You would do that for Maria? I can pay you.”

      “I’m sure we can work something out.”

      Dimitris spoke rapidly to his wife. She beamed and took Helen’s hand.

      She’d driven home knowing she’d turned a corner in her frame of mind. The swimming lesson and the prospect of teaching English made her feel fulfilled. Her contentment lasted into the night as she made love with Gary.

      She peered through her kitchen window again but could no longer see Louisa. She must have gone into Mel’s. If the lessons with Maria worked out, she could offer something similar to local German people. She smiled as more warm feelings of usefulness came over her.

      The doorbell had a way of shrieking whenever Louisa pressed it. Helen stood still. She’d ignore it, pretend to be out. But she was curious about the paperwork Louisa was carrying. A teeny bit of her ego wondered if the visit was to do with the swim club. John must have reported back how well the newcomer had done and Louisa was calling to offer her more classes. She answered the door.

      “I hear you intend to teach English. Are you qualified?” Louisa said, stepping inside without a greeting.

      “I was head of PE at my last school,” Helen said and savoured the surprise on Louisa’s face.

      But it didn’t last. “The Niers School is clamping down on people who set up businesses for which they aren’t trained.”

      “It’s hardly a business; I’m helping a neighbour.” Helen balled her fists. If Louisa thought she was the job police, she could think again.

      “Well, I’ve brought some brochures about TESOL courses anyway,” Louisa said. “And while I’m here I can collect your balance.”

      “Balance?”