Mad About You by Sinéad Moriarty Read Free Book Online Page A

asked.
    She sipped her apple juice, savouring it. ‘Ever since we moved in, ten years ago.’
    ‘Well, you’ve done a fantastic job.’
    ‘Keith, my husband, says I’m a bit extreme. I’ve gone very green, you see. I get so furious when I see neighbours’ bins full of things they could recycle. The worst on this road is Poppy. She puts all her plastic packaging into her black bin. It makes my blood boil.’
    Yikes! I sometimes did that too. I tried to be good, but if I was in a hurry or unpacking zillions of boxes, like I had been lately, I sometimes just shoved everything around me into the black bin. I’d have to be careful in future. I didn’t fancy Carol going through my bins and calling me to task.
    ‘
Cooeeee!
’ a voice called from behind us.
    I turned to see a tall, rake-thin blonde woman tottering down the side entrance. She was wearing skin-tight whitejeans, a jewelled, fitted kaftan and the most enormous sunglasses I’d ever seen – they covered three-quarters of her face.
    ‘I saw you from my window so I thought I’d pop around. The side gate was open, Carol. I presume you’re our new neighbour?’ she asked me.
    ‘Yes, I’m Emma.’
    ‘This is Poppy – she lives at number seven,’ Carol said.
    ‘Oh, right, hi, nice to meet you.’
    ‘We wented to your house and sawed your beautiful minder. She’s like a princess,’ Lara told Poppy.
    Poppy smiled at her. ‘Aren’t you a cutie? And I love your accent. It’s adorable. Yes, Sophie is gorgeous. I like looking at pretty things. I couldn’t have anything ugly in my house – it would depress me.’ Turning to Carol, she said, ‘I honestly don’t know how you can sit in this garden – it’s like being in the middle of a muddy field.’
    Carol laughed good-humouredly. ‘This garden means that we don’t eat awful processed food full of additives.’
    ‘I prefer Valium and white wine to food. It helps me deal with my life.’
    Well, well. One of my neighbours was growing enough veg to feed half of London and the other was a lush. London certainly wasn’t boring. Curiosity got the better of me. ‘Are you having a tough time?’ I asked.
    Poppy laid a hand on my arm. ‘Darling, when I met Nigel he was head of corporate law at Hendricks, Goodge and Farrow. He was handsome, wealthy and married, but unhappily so, fortunately for me. Anyway, we had a very passionate affair and he divorced his wife to make an honest woman of me. His first wife took him to the cleaner’s. We were left with very little, so we moved here.’ Poppy rolled her eyes. Clearly, Putney was a long way down the list from where she aspiredto live. ‘And then once he had married me there was, as they say, a job vacancy for a mistress. The bastard left me for his secretary – don’t talk to me about clichés. So in our divorce I got half of half, which, let me tell you, was not a lot.’
    This was fascinating. I felt positively boring next to this tale of woe. ‘How long had you been married?’
    ‘Seven years. And the bastard had the audacity to have an affair and leave me, and our two sons, for a woman who is fatter than I am and uglier. So you see, darling, I need my pills.’
    I tried not to laugh. Poppy seemed more upset that her rival was unattractive than that her marriage was over.
    ‘What age are your children?’ I asked.
    ‘Six and four. I got my tubes tied after I had Charlie.’
    ‘Yuri’s four. Maybe the boys could come over and play some time?’
    Poppy nibbled a strawberry. ‘Anytime. You can keep them, if you like,’ she said, with a wicked grin.
    ‘Actually, speaking of kids,’ I said, suddenly inspired, ‘I’m looking for a childminder. I’m starting a job soon. Do you know of any good local nanny agencies?’
    ‘What line of work are you in?’ Poppy asked.
    ‘I’m a makeup artist.’
    Poppy whooped. ‘There is a God! You must give me all your best tips. I need them. Honestly, since I turned thirty-seven everything has started