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‘And how’s life treatingyou, Joe?’
His name is a hook, yanking back his attention to the group. Quickly, he replays Ralph Erikson’s question. ‘Pretty good,’ he says. Then, because everyone’s still watching him: ‘Pretty tired, I guess. But you know what’s it like, living with teenagers.’
Obviously, Ralph doesn’t know that, because his late wife couldn’t have children and Ralph never remarried, facts known by everyone in the circle. Embarrassed by his gaffe, Joseph swigs from his beer glass before remembering it’s empty, proving that he’s a moron as well as a shit.
‘Not sleeping?’
He shrugs, forces a grin. ‘Erin hauled me out of bed last night to confront a burglar. Animaginaryburglar,’ he adds hastily, when everyone reacts. ‘I think she’s been watching too many true crime shows on Netflix.’
‘Ouch – my ears are burning,’ Erin laughs, appearing at his side. When she slides her arm around his waist, Joseph tries not to stiffen. ‘You haven’t just revealed my dirty secret?’
‘Oh, God, you’re not alone,’ Gemma Robinson tells her. ‘You start watching and suddenly an entire evening’s disappeared. The American ones are the worst because they’re so extreme – and soaddictive. But I always feel mucky afterwards.’
‘What time did she haul you out of bed, Joe?’ Ralph asks.
‘Must have been around three,’ Erin says, before Joseph can move the conversation on. ‘I’m so cruel.’ Gently, she squeezes his ribs.
‘And the burglar turned out to be Max, right?’ Ralph says.
Joseph flinches at that. He studies his neighbour more closely.
Ralph Erikson, in his late sixties, is always eccentrically dressed. Even on this late-summer afternoon, he’s wearing a thick alpaca-wool poncho, brightly coloured, as if the blood flowing through his veins is cellar-cool.
‘Wow, Ralph,’ Erin says. ‘Where did you learn your detective skills? I don’t believe for one minute that you’re as mucky as me and Gemma, debauching yourself on true crime.’
‘I don’t believe for one minute thatanyone’sas mucky as Gemma,’ Greg Robinson says of his wife, and takes an elbow jab to the midriff. He spits beer, sniggers.
‘No detective skills required,’ Ralph says, addressing Erin. ‘My doorbell camera is motion-activated. It records whenever it’s triggered – and sends an alert to let me know. I can view the live footage on my phone.’
‘Sheesh. Well, I’m sorry if Max’s homecoming woke you,’ Erin replies – as if it’stheirfault Ralph Erikson aimed a camera at their house that buzzes him every time someone farts.
‘Oh, I wasn’t asleep. I hardly seem to sleep at all, these days. Seems like you couldn’t either, Joe, after your scare – judging by your early morning bike ride.’
Joseph opens his mouth, closes it.
‘A bike ride at three a.m.?’ Gemma asks. She looks at Erin and tips her a wink. ‘Nowthat’ssuspicious.’
Ralph smiles, clearly enjoying the attention. ‘More like four a.m. by the time he and Max returned.’
Gemma sips from her wine glass, giggles. ‘Wowsers – I predict a Channel Five four-parter in all our futures.’
Joseph’s fingers twitch. Right now, he’d quite like to throttle Ralph Erikson. ‘I never realized you watched us so closely,’ he says.
Erin flashes him a look. Then she touches Ralph’s arm and rubs it appreciatively. ‘I don’t know about anyone else, but I feel a lot safer knowing that you’re looking out for us.’
‘You don’t feel safe with me?’ Joseph asks, regretting the question even as he voices it. Again, his mouth seems to be working faster than his brain. But Erin, albeit accidently, has just pressed her fingers into his deepest wound.
Greg Robinson grins. Then he shakes his empty beer bottle. ‘Going to hunt out another of these.’
‘And I’ve got to pee,’ Gemma adds.
Joseph watches them go. Then he returns his attention to Ralph. If the widower saw them return home on bikes last night, presumably he also saw them leave on foot. Did that anomaly escape his attention? Or did he leave out that part deliberately, to see what Joseph would say? Had he noticed what they’d been carrying or had the darkness saved them?
‘You know, I’ve been meaning to get one of those doorbell cams for a while,’ he tells the widower. ‘Maybe if you have time, over the next few days, I could drop by for a quick tutorial.’
‘I’d be delighted,’ Ralph says. ‘We’re lucky this is such a safe area – there’s been one burglary on this street in the thirty years I’ve lived here – but I do enjoy my doorbell cam. With the sensitivity dialled up, it captures all sorts of wildlife I might never see.’
Her hand still around his waist, Erin squeezes Joseph again:Well done, Carver, her touch seems to say.For a while that was kind of awkward, but now your tram wheels are firmly back in their tracks.