Page 3 of The Psychopath Next Door

When I told people I owned a record shop they either started listing all the vinyl they owned, asking me if it was worth anything, or told me they had assumed records were a thing of the past. I’d seen a lot of eyes glaze over. But Fiona seemed genuinely interested.

‘I must admit I haven’t got a clue when it comes to recent stuff,’ she said. ‘I used to date a guy who was the singer in a band but I haven’t listened to anything new for around ten years, and even that would have been a download. I still have some old records in crates back in Australia, though.’

So I was right about her origins. ‘How long have you lived over here?’

‘I came here straight after uni.’ If she was late thirties, that would have been, what? Fifteen years ago?

She told me that she originally came from a little seaside town called Fremantle, close to Perth in Western Australia.

‘Is your wife into vinyl too?’ she asked, then quickly added, ‘Sorry, I’m assuming you have a wife. Rose said something about her mum but ...’ She trailed off.

‘It’s fine. I do have a wife. Emma. I also have a fifteen-year-old son called Dylan. And no, Emma doesn’t really share my enthusiasm for vinyl, but she does love music. We all do.’

‘That’s cool.’

There was a sudden awkward silence.

Fiona broke it: ‘So, what are you going to do? About those boys?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll follow Rose’s lead. She might not want me to make a fuss.’

Fiona raised her eyebrows, apparently surprised that I wasn’t planning to steam over there with my sleeves rolled up and my fists clenched. Did she think I was a chicken? The truth was that, yeah, the family across the road were a little intimidating, but I wasn’t scared of them. I just didn’t want to fall out with our new neighbours and ensure years of awkwardness ahead of us.

But I could feel Fiona judging me as all this went through my head, and I found myself saying, ‘Yeah, I’ll talk to the parents, let them know it’s not the kind of behaviour we’ll put up with.’

Had I really just made my voice deeper?

‘I think Rose would appreciate that.’ She put her mug down on the side. I noticed she’d only drunk half of it. ‘I should go. I came here to do some measuring up and I’d better get on.’

She looked out through the kitchen window at the back garden. It had been a rainy July so far and the grass needed cutting. Her garden would be on the other side of the fence.

‘If there’s anything we can do to help, just let us know,’ I said.

‘I sure will.’

We passed the bottom of the stairs on our way back to the front door and something occurred to me. I asked Fiona to hold on a moment and called Rose, who came to the top of the stairs.

‘Come down and thank Fiona,’ I said.

I expected at least a tiny eye roll, but she trotted down the stairs and, rather shyly, said, ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re very welcome.’

‘Fiona is going to be our new next-door neighbour,’ I told her.

Rose, who had been looking at the carpet, lifted her head to regard Fiona. ‘Really?’

‘That’s right. If those boys ever give you any bother again, I’ll be right there.’ She put her fists up, like a boxer, and jabbed the air.

‘Cool.’ Rose seemed genuinely pleased.

‘I’ll be here too,’ I said. ‘I’m going to speak to their parents later. Put a stop to it.’

Rose groaned. ‘Please don’t. It’ll make it worse.’

I’d known that would be her reaction. Not returning Fiona’s gaze, I said, ‘Let’s talk about it later.’

I opened the front door to see Fiona out. ‘Like I said, if you need any help with the move or anything else, just give us a shout. And thanks again for helping Rose.’

---