Page 11 of The Good Neighbour

He had an Australian accent. In fact, something about his voice was familiar to Josh. He couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Go on.”

“I’m housesitting next door,” the man blurted out. “And I’ve had a washing machine disaster. The bastard is leaking all over the floor. You don’t know anyone who can help, do you?”

Whilst studying at Central Saint Martins College, Josh had worked for an events company that covered most of the major shows of London Fashion Week. The hammering their laundry department took was unbelievable. He’d soon become adept at fixing the equipment.

“Give me one second.”

He ran into the kitchen to a cupboard under the stairs where he and Winston had stashed all sorts of crap they never used.

Luckily, Josh’s toolbox was near the front. Not that he’d needed it in years. Winston usually insisted on calling in professionals.

When Josh returned outside, the handsome stranger’s eyes lit up.

“Are you a washing machine repair man?”

“Yes,” Josh said. “That’s why I live here. It pays ever so well.”

“To be fair, if you can help, I don’t care what you do. Come on.”

Josh followed the man down the steps and round to Jeannie’s. As she lived on the end of the crescent, her house was a little smaller than the others. Josh had had many conversations with the famous model over the fence. He had no idea what it would be like inside.

The man had left the front door open. He ushered Josh down the corridor. Unsurprisingly, it was lined with photos of Jeannie in glamorous locations. As a major name in the modelling world, Jeannie was very much in demand. Most of the photos were professionally taken although Jeannie would be stunning no matter who had control of the camera.

The house appeared to be the same layout as Josh’s. They made it through into the kitchen, which had a thin sheen of suds covering the floor.

“Have you knocked off the stopcock?” Josh asked.

“Sorry?”

“The— Don’t worry.”

He ran over to the sink and dropped to his knees. The water soaked through his jeans immediately. He quickly wrenched open the cupboard door. It was full of cleaning equipment. He yanked the bottles out and breathed a sigh of relief when he sawthe stopcock. Sometimes the similarities between the houses came in handy.

With great effort he managed to twist it anticlockwise until it went no further.

His trousers were drenched by the time he stood up.

“Where’s the machine?”

“Through here,” the man said.

He led him into a small utility room that had far more water in.

“Quickly, open the back door,” Josh instructed. “Let the water go out that way.”

“Good thinking.”

The man shoved the door.

“Can you get the machine open?” he asked. “There’s something very valuable in there.”

Josh retrieved a screwdriver from his toolbox. He found a small flap at the bottom of the machine that he managed to prise free with a pop. Inside, he discovered the emergency release for the door. With a plop, it opened. More water cascaded out, covering him.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed.

“Shit, I am so sorry.”