Perfectly Nice Neighbors - Softcover

Abdullah, Kia

 
9780593713815: Perfectly Nice Neighbors
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593713818 ISBN 13: 9780593713815
Verlag: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

“One of my ten best reads of the year. Easy five stars.” — Lisa Jewell, New York Times bestselling author of None of This is True

A twisty and consuming thriller, Perfectly Nice Neighbors asks: When your dream home comes with nightmare neighbors, how far will you go to keep your family safe?

    Salma Khatun is hopeful about Blenheim, the suburban development into which she, her husband, and their son have just moved. The Bangladeshi family needs a fresh start, and Blenheim feels like just the place.
    Soon after they move in, Salma spots her White neighbor, Tom Hutton, ripping out the anti-racist banner her son put in the front garden. Avoiding confrontation, Salma takes the banner inside and puts it in her window. But the next morning, she wakes up to find her window smeared with paint.
    When she does speak to Tom, battle lines are drawn between the two families. As racial and social tensions escalate and the stakes rise, it’s clear that a reckoning is coming . . .
    And someone is going to get hurt.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Kia Abdullah is a bestselling author and travel writer. Her novels include Take It Back, which was a Guardian and Telegraph thriller of the year; Truth Be Told, which was shortlisted for the Diverse Book Awards; and Next of Kin, which was longlisted for the CWA Gold Dagger Award and won the Adult Fiction Diverse Book Award in 2022. Abdullah has written for the New York Times, the Guardian, the Financial Times, The Times, and the BBC, and is the founder of Asian Booklist, a non-profit that advocates for diversity in publishing and helps readers discover new books by British Asian authors.

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Chapter 1

Salma had always sworn that she would never end up in a place like this. "It's a bit like purgatory," she had joked when they first came to see the house in a harried half hour before work one morning. The estate agent, a hawkish woman with a watchful gaze, had herded them from room to room and Salma had murmured politely, even commenting on this or that "lovely feature" as she and Bilal locked eyes, amusement passing between them.

They had agreed to view it only because there was a gap between their other bookings and the agent had pushed this property. It was in a neat cul-de-sac on the eastern reaches of the Central Line. It was built seven years ago, said the agent, and still had the bright, bland feel of a new development. There was a dizzying amount of brickwork and even its name, the mononymous "Blenheim," felt like an artless attempt at class, like petrol stop perfume or "Guccci" shades. Upstairs, out of the agent's earshot, they had giggled about the perfect lawn.

"Do you think neighborhood watch will knock down your door if it grows above two inches?" said Bilal.

Salma fought a smile. "We're being snobby," she said but with laughter in her voice.

The agent walked in and the two of them sprang apart like children caught red-handed. She nodded at the window, her silver-brown bob swaying with the motion. "It's lovely, isn't it?"

"Lovely," Salma agreed.

That was six months ago, and after close to forty viewings, they had both grown weary. Nothing else matched Blenheim for price, condition, space, and safety and so they talked each other into it. Four double bedrooms, said Bilal. And it's still on the Central Line, said Salma. The neat streets and perfectly nice neighbors. If they could set aside their vanity, they could be happy at Blenheim and so they had put in an offer-and here they were, their first week in their new home.

They hadn't yet met their neighbors but, yesterday, a square of white card appeared on their doormat inviting them to a May Day barbecue. No need to RSVP. Just turn up! it said in jaunty letters. Salma had read it uneasily. She wasn't an introvert by any means but did find parties tiring. She far preferred to meet new people on a one-to-one basis. Still, they were new here and had to make an effort. Salma had prepared some potato salad and told her son, Zain, that he had no choice but to join them. They approached 13 Blenheim like a trio of soldiers heading into battle. Outside, Salma paused and assessed her husband and son. As she smoothed the crooked leaf of Bilal's collar, he caught her hand and kissed it.

"Here goes," she said. She rang the bell but no one answered. Music bled from the garden and Salma counted to twenty before she rang again. Zain ventured to the side of the house and pointed at the open side gate. They walked through in single file and hovered at the edge of the gathering. There were about thirty people of varying ages, laughing and milling around. Two men were tending the barbecue, both of them wearing white polo shirts paired with khaki shorts. At first, Salma thought that they were hired staff but realized they were guests. Cheers went up around them as they dished up the first tranche of meat, filling the air with a pleasantly smoky smell.

A woman spotted them and her eyes lit up. "You must be the new arrivals!" she called. She detached herself from the group and pulled Salma into a matronly hug. "I'm Linda Turner, the hostess."

"Oh, hello! I'm Salma. Thank you so much for inviting us."

"Bilal," her husband introduced himself. He saw the crease of Linda's brow and promptly added, "Call me Bil."

She brightened. "Bill! How wonderful to meet our new neighbors." She turned to Zain. "And this must be your son. My, what a handsome boy!"

Zain smiled politely. "How do you do?"

She whooped with delight. "And such manners too!" She saw the glass bowl in his hands. "You didn't have to bring anything! But thank you." She took the bowl and ushered them into the party. "What can I get you to drink? We have wine, beer, cider." She paused. "Or we have fresh lemonade and fruit juice."

Bil smiled. "A lemonade would be lovely-thank you."

"Make that three," said Salma.

She beamed. "Wonderful!" She smoothly introduced them to their next-door neighbor. "This is Tom Hutton. He can give you the lowdown on everyone here."

Tom greeted them warmly. He was in his mid-forties, muscular under a navy polo shirt, and with thick dark hair splayed beneath an orange cap. As he spoke, a young bull terrier bounded up to him. "Her name is Lola," he said, bending down to pet her. He looked up at Salma. "She was a showgirl," he deadpanned.

Salma broke into laughter. Tom nodded in approval as if she had passed a test. Lola snuffed at Salma's feet.

"You don't mind, do you?" said Tom.

"No, not at all. We have a dog too, a Lab called Molly."

"Oh, that's great. This is such a dog-friendly neighborhood. You're going to love it."
 
Linda cut in to hand out drinks. Bil volunteered to help with the barbecue and she happily whisked him away. Zain took his drink to a corner of the garden and busied himself on his phone.

"So what do you do?" asked Tom.

"I'm a teacher," said Salma. "Geography at a secondary school," she added, pre-empting his follow-up question. "What about you?"

"I work in advertising. At Sartre & Sartre."

"Oh wow. That must be glamorous."

"It can be," he said with a grin, enjoying the compliment. "And what about Bil?"

Salma felt herself tense. "He's a restaurateur," she said, despite the fact that his restaurant, Jakoni's, had shut down earlier that year.

"Restaurateur?" Tom puckered his lips in a show of approval. "You must be doing all right then, no?"

Salma looked bemused. "I mean, we're doing okay."

"Sorry if that's rude. I was just wondering how come you got this place then?" He nodded in the direction of their house.

Salma relaxed, relieved to find that he too was skeptical of Blenheim. She smiled playfully. "It's not so bad, is it? Where else would I find such a pristine collection of lawns?"

Tom frowned. "It's just that I would've thought you were above the threshold."

"Threshold?" Salma was confused.

"For social housing," he said.

It dawned on Salma what Tom had really meant: not you're wealthy, so why would you choose to live here but you're wealthy, so why did you get social housing? She shifted awkwardly. "We actually bought it privately."

"Oh!" Tom looked mortified. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to assume. In fact, I wasn't assuming. I was certain that the house next to us was part of the social housing." He cringed visibly. "I must have been mistaken."

Salma waved in a show of nonchalance. "Ah, if only! It might have saved us a pretty penny." Her voice labored with the effort to put him at ease. She groped for another topic.

"So where do you teach?" asked Tom.

"Ilford Academy in Seven Kings."

"I see. Do you enjoy it?"

Salma could feel the conversation slipping away but was keen to keep the momentum going. If they parted now, it would surely make things more awkward the next time they met. "Yes," she replied. "It's especially nice in August." She laughed at her joke but it came out forced and hollow. She didn't understand why she was being this way. She was normally poised and confident, well versed in small talk. She reached for a question but was interrupted by a woman who slid up next to Tom. Salma stared for a second. She was tall and willowy with white-blonde hair, delicate cheekbones, and a tiny gap between her front teeth that seemed to only add to her charm. She held out an elegant hand.

"Willa," she said. "Like the...

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Verlag
G.P. Putnam's Sons
Erscheinungsdatum
2023
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593713818
ISBN 13 
9780593713815
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
340
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
preigu
mail@preigu.de

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