The Family Next Door

Caroline Finnerty

Description

No one really knows what goes on behind closed doors.

On the quiet street of St Brigid’s Terrace in Dublin, Eileen Murphy lives alone at number 26 with her dog Dora. Virtually a recluse, she keeps herself to herself as she tries to come to terms with her tragic past.

Next door in number 28 lives beautiful Lucy Walsh, her husband Neil and their 5-year-old daughter Anabel. To Eileen, who watches from her window, the Walshs are the perfect family.

But one fateful night, Eileen is pulled into their world and she realises that Lucy Walshs life isn’t as perfect as she thought.
With the unexpected help from little Anabel, the women become a lifeline for each other to overcome the demons in their lives.
Through Eileen’s help, Lucy finds the courage to overcome her fears and in aiding Lucy, Eileen is forced to emerge from her solitary world and take baby steps to confront her own past.

As the bonds of friendship change these women forevermore will Lucy find the courage to forge a new life for herself and her daughter and will Eileen find it within herself to forgive for her old mistakes?

5 STAR Praise for The Family Next Door

'It is extremely heartbreaking but also hugely uplifting and hopeful. A wonderful read that won't disappoint.' - Reader Review

'Came across this Author by accident but I am really enjoying her books' - Reader Review

'Loved this story of true friendship and resilience between 2 women who have both been tested to the limits. A must read.' - Reader Review

'Emotional and thought-provoking. Caroline Finnerty writes so skilfully about sensitive issues that I felt my heartstrings were being tugged at all the way through The Family Next Door' - Reader Review

'The book held me captive until the end. I liked the characters and at times found it heartbreaking but beautifully written.' - Reader Review

Sujets

• Feminist
• Women
• Friendship
• Woman
• Feminism
• The Women
• Crime
• Family Life
• Thriller
• Noir
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 27 juillet 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781801625579
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE FAMILY NEXT DOOR


CAROLINE FINNERTY
For Tom, my sunshine.
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48


Acknowledgments

More from Caroline Finnerty

About the Author

About Boldwood Books
1

I watched yer man emerge from the house next door at exactly twenty-two minutes past eight. He was running late this morning. He stopped to inspect the paintwork on his black Audi, buffing it with his thumb. He was dressed in skintight tracksuit bottoms that left little to the imagination and even though it was November, and there was frost twinkling on the ground, he wore a T-shirt. He always wore a T-shirt; I don’t think the man even owned a coat. He liked showing off his bulging biceps; I don’t know why because he had them destroyed with tattoos. Mr Muscle is what I call him.
He got into his car and reversed out of the driveway. Then herself came out a few minutes later, all big blonde hair and make-up, dressed up to the nines in stiletto heels and practically pushing the child down the driveway in her hurry to get into her car. They were always rushing everywhere those two. Always late. She opened the back door for the little girl to climb in, then she sat in the front seat, started the engine and she was gone too. I wouldn’t see them until after five o’clock that evening.
I still didn’t know their names even though I had been living there for almost nine months by then. We had moved in around the same time, but they had immediately set about renovating the house, replacing the old with the new. Their house was like all the other houses on the street with their modern windows and colourful front doors. Now my house was the only one left with the original timber windows. They had taken up the crumbling tarmac in the driveway and replaced it with biscuit-coloured resin and when I looked out the back bedroom window, my view was obstructed by a glass box extension where they had broken through the wall of their kitchen. They had dug up all the grass in the garden and replaced it with artificial stuff, then of all the things they could have done, didn’t they go and build a bar in the garden. A bar! They had spent the tail end of the summer hosting their friends, sitting out late into the night laughing and drinking and keeping me awake with their antics.
I waited until the car had disappeared down the road, then I moved away from the window, letting the net curtain swing back into place. I took Dora’s lead off the banister in the hall and clipped it on to her collar and we headed for our morning walk.
Dora had arrived on my doorstep last February just a few days after I had moved in. I woke one morning and heard scratching at the front door. It had put the heart crossways on me. I had hurried down the stairs, opened it and there she was sitting on the step looking up at me with a note of impatience as if she was saying, Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting for you all this time to let me in. She looked at me with the saddest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Even though she was a dog, I felt as though she could see inside my soul. I bent down to have a closer look at her and saw she was in a right sorry state. I don’t know what breed she is; the vet reckons she’s some kind of cross between a Yorkshire terrier and a Jack Russell. Her wiry hair was matted, and her claws were long and growing around into the pads of her paws. She had no collar on her, and she was grey around the muzzle, so I knew she wasn’t a puppy.
‘Well, look at you!’ I whistled, shaking my head. Then, just as I was feeling sorry for her, didn’t the cheeky fecker go around my ankles and walk straight into the house like she owned the place!
‘Oh, no you don’t; go on, get out of here,’ I told her, but Dora took no notice of me. I decided to take her to the vet to see if they had any reports about a missing dog. They scanned her and told me that she wasn’t microchipped. The vet explained that she would have to be surrendered to a rescue centre, but God damn it, when I looked into her sad little eyes, I couldn’t do it to the poor girl, so she came home with me.
‘It’s only temporary,’ I warned her. ‘Don’t be getting yourself comfy. It’s just till we can find you a proper home.’
I called her Dora, after Dora the Explorer . When Tim – he’s my key worker – called for a visit later that week he was taken aback to see Dora snoozing on the sofa.
‘You got a dog?’ he asked in bewilderment.
I told him what had happened and how it was only until I found her a home. Tim said that maybe I should hold on to her, that she’d be good company for me. I told him that I was nervous of having something being reliant on me; I was worried it would be too much pressure. Tim told me to give it a week or two and see how it went and Dora has stayed by my side ever since. There’s no minding in her in fairness. She eats, she does her business, I bring her for a little walk, and she waits outside tied to the lamp post while I go into the shop, then she spends the rest of her time curled up asleep on her chair. It’s a dog’s life, I tell you.
By the time Dora and I get home from our walk, it’s time to clean up the place and do my laundry, then sure it’s lunchtime. After lunch I usually make myself a cup of tea and stick on the TV. On this day, I was just settling in to watch Judge Judy with a cuppa when the doorbell rang. Dora, who was snoring loudly in her spot on the sofa beside me, raised her head and pricked up her ears.
‘Who is it now?’ I asked, rolling my eyes. We were hardly inundated with visitors. She jumped up and followed me out to the door. I caught sight of myself in the hall mirror. I was starting to look and feel every one of my fifty-four years; the greys were taking over my natural auburn colouring and a starburst of lines spread out from the corners of my eyes. I turned away from the mirror and peered through the spyglass. I didn’t recognise the official-looking young woman standing there. She was very glamorous, dressed in a skirt suit and high heels. Maybe she was one of my neighbours? I kept the chain on just in case, before I opened it.
‘Hi Eileen, we haven’t met. I’m Savannah, I work on the outreach team,’ she said, introducing herself.
Was it that time already? I did a quick calculation and realised she was right. The days were flying by.
‘What happened to Tim?’ I asked, removing the chain. An icy draft rushed inside. I was used to dealing with him but this new girl had thrown me. Tim calls around every month to check up on me. He wants to see that I’m eating and taking my meds and not living in squalor, but I always keep the place clean and tidy. It’s usually a ten-minute job: he ticks his boxes and off he goes again until the following month. He used to visit weekly when I first moved in, but he said I’m making good progress.
‘He’s off on leave I’m afraid,’ Savannah explained, ‘so I’m covering his clients while he is out.’
‘More’s the pity,’ I said, looking Savannah up and down. She looked far too young to be a member of the workforce. I’d say she was just out of college. ‘I suppose you want to come in?’
‘Well, yes…’ She nodded. ‘I won’t keep you too long.’ She seemed nervous. Her eyes darted around and her hands were fidgeting with the strap on her handbag.
I led her into the living room, picked up the remote and silenced the TV. Then I gestured for her to take a seat. She quickly inspected the sofa before tucking her skirt beneath her and sitting down.
‘Oh, not there,’ I said quickly.
‘Sorry?’ she said, jumping up again, looking terrified.
‘That’s where Dora sits,’ I told her.
‘Oh…’ She stood up and moved down to the other end. ‘Is this okay?’
I nodded. Dora hopped up onto her spot beside her. Savannah looked warily at her.
‘Don’t worry, she won’t bite. She’s very friendly.’
Nonetheless, Savannah kept her elbows tucked in as she unclipped her briefcase and took out a notepad. She reminded me of a little bird.
‘So how are you doing, Eileen?’ she began.
‘All good.’
She looked around the room. ‘The place is looking well.’
‘The rubbish isn’t piling up if that’s what you’re worried about,’ I quipped.
Savannah gave me an uneasy smile and started writing something on her clipboard.
‘That was a joke,’ I added. The last thing I wanted was Tim getting a report back that I had been uncooperative.
Savannah tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘You’re settling in well then?’ she continued. ‘Have you met any of the neighbours yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Well, it’s only been a little while, still lots of time to make friends.’ She smiled.
‘It’s been nine months.’
‘Has it?’ Savannah said absently, scribbling something else in her notes. ‘Time flies. And everything else is okay?’
‘It’s all hunky-dory.’
‘Okay… well, everything looks good to me,’ she said, the relief in her voice to be finished with me clearly audible. She stood up and brushed Dora’s hairs off her wool skirt. ‘I’ll leave you to get back to your show.’ She nodded at the TV screen frozen on Judge Judy’s courtroom. ‘You have the number for the office if you need anything.’
By the time Savannah left, dusk was beginning to fall, and my tea had gone cold. The street was starting to get busy again and one by one the houses began lighting up as people started returning home from work. I saw the man from