The Woman Next Door

‘Some cookies.’

Each night, in an unnecessary and ineffective pretention, a pack of biscuits was placed on her pillow. Brown in see-through plastic. They looked vile, but she hoped Innes would like them.

‘Sorry I missed your birthday, love. I was just …’

‘I know. It’s fine, Grandma.’

‘Twelve suits you. Milk?’

‘Yes, please.’

Marion pulled the bedside table closer and set the tea on top. She sat back down. Innes had a chip on her front tooth. Marion put her hand to her heart, remembering the day the little girl had fallen. At the park.

‘How’s school?’

Marion had tried to persuade her daughter to send Innes to St Winifred’s, but Marelena believed in co-ed. Marion had taken it upon herself to look out for Innes, certain the awkward child would be putty in the grips of public-school children.

Innes pumped her head, her mouth full of biscuit. There was usually more activity when Innes visited, Alvar barking, Agnes fixing a sandwich. Grandmother and granddaughter smiled, shy. Innes had only taken three sips of her tea when her cellphone chimed.

‘Ah, your sister’s here.’ Marion could already see herself, alone again in the room.

Innes scowled at her phone. ‘Aw, man, only just got here.’

‘Thanks for the visit, dear,’ Marion said, moved by the sight of her granddaughter’s irritation.

The chime again.

‘Come, take the biscuits with you. Lara will be upset if you make her wait. Come, Innes, hurry. Hug!’

Her small bones crushed against Marion’s belly, her bosom.

‘Oh, I nearly forgot, Grandma. The woman at reception asked me to give you this.’

Innes handed Marion a white envelope, then ducked out the door. After Marion closed the door, she pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was Hortensia’s handwriting: Hello, Marion. I wondered if you’d considered my offer. If you wanted to take me up on it, would you agree to come by tomorrow and meet with Dr Mama?

Who in Heaven’s name was Dr Mama? And why would she need to meet with him?

Marion stormed into the study where Hortensia was standing, her weight on the walker, receiving instructions from Trudy.

‘Marion, you’re early.’ The design was very careful – one wrong move and it wouldn’t work. Hortensia needed each to play their part.

‘I don’t appreciate being summoned again, Hortensia. I thought I’d made that quite clear.’

‘Yes, well. Trudy, do you mind?’

The girl left the room and closed the door behind her.

‘I get it: you’ve hurt your leg and you’ve caused some trouble for me and now you’re trying to be helpful, but … I do not like being summoned.’

‘I apologise.’

The apology tripped Marion. She took some seconds to find her feet again. Hortensia stood and waited.

‘So, who’s this Dr Mama? Why would I need to meet him?’

‘Well—’

The bell went. A few seconds passed before Bassey appeared, announcing the doctor.

‘Oh, how wonderful,’ Mama said, walking in. ‘This must be your friend that you told me about.’

Hortensia saw Marion’s face fall. How to recover this – how to avoid a mess?

‘Gordon, this is Marion. Marion, Gordon, Dr Mama. Marion lives next door.’

‘Oh. I see your house is in a bit of disarray then.’ Mama smiled. ‘How perfect that you move in here.’

Marion’s eyebrows jumped.

‘Well—’ Hortensia began.

‘No explanation needed, Hortensia. I’m sure she’ll have a cheering effect on you.’

‘I don’t—’

‘Please, take a seat, Marion.’ Dr Mama signalled to an open chair. He sat down as well. Hortensia stayed standing, gripping the walker, for once grateful that she had the stupid thing to hold on to.

‘I wanted to meet you, Marion, just to ensure that you are comfortable with the arrangement. And, sorry to be distasteful, but I had to confirm you were fit for the task. Able-bodied, if you catch my drift.’

Hortensia had given up. She waited for Marion to work it out, for Dr Mama to talk long enough that she’d understand.

‘Not on any medication yourself, are you?’

Marion shook her head.

‘How long have you two known each other?’

The women looked at one another. Hortensia spoke first.

‘About twenty years.’

Mama whistled. ‘Precious! I admire you both. Really. And, Marion, your willingness to sacrifice.’ He turned in his seat to face Hortensia. ‘I see no reason why your idea can’t work. Start as soon as you prefer. Trudy will stay on for the first few days Marion moves in, go over the odd procedure – nothing major – and then, once everything gets into a rhythm,’ he cracked a wide smile, fanned his hand in the air, ‘you’re free.’ He rose. ‘Now, I must run to my next appointment.’

Perfect, Hortensia thought. Bingo!

‘Call him back and tell him he’s mistaken about you.’

‘I will do no such thing. You call him back and you tell him he’s mistaken about you.’ Hortensia felt high, now that it was all out in the open.

Yewande Omotoso's books