For Eve Gallagher, home is miles away in England since she and her husband relocated to an apartment building on New York's Upper East Side. And life isn't coming up roses.
What makes a neighbor a friend?
Violet has lived in the building for decades, but she's always kept herself apart, until Eve's loneliness touches her heart.
What makes a wife a lover?
Jason Kramer in apartment 6A is no longer sure he loves his wife, but he's head over heels for Rachel Schulman in 6B.
What makes the girl next door the woman of your dreams?
Meeting Emily Mikanowski from 3A turns Trip Grayling's world upside down. It's love at first sight, but he needs help from Charlotte, the shy romance novel addict in 2A, if he's going to get his girl.
What they all have in common is an address, but it is also a home where their lives and secrets intertwine. Come in and enjoy this bittersweet story of friendship and love.
For Eve Gallagher, home is miles away in England since she and her husband relocated to an apartment building on New York's Upper East Side. And life isn't coming up roses.
What makes a neighbor a friend?
Violet has lived in the building for decades, but she's always kept herself apart, until Eve's loneliness touches her heart.
What makes a wife a lover?
Jason Kramer in apartment 6A is no longer sure he loves his wife, but he's head over heels for Rachel Schulman in 6B.
What makes the girl next door the woman of your dreams?
Meeting Emily Mikanowski from 3A turns Trip Grayling's world upside down. It's love at first sight, but he needs help from Charlotte, the shy romance novel addict in 2A, if he's going to get his girl.
What they all have in common is an address, but it is also a home where their lives and secrets intertwine. Come in and enjoy this bittersweet story of friendship and love.
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Overview
For Eve Gallagher, home is miles away in England since she and her husband relocated to an apartment building on New York's Upper East Side. And life isn't coming up roses.
What makes a neighbor a friend?
Violet has lived in the building for decades, but she's always kept herself apart, until Eve's loneliness touches her heart.
What makes a wife a lover?
Jason Kramer in apartment 6A is no longer sure he loves his wife, but he's head over heels for Rachel Schulman in 6B.
What makes the girl next door the woman of your dreams?
Meeting Emily Mikanowski from 3A turns Trip Grayling's world upside down. It's love at first sight, but he needs help from Charlotte, the shy romance novel addict in 2A, if he's going to get his girl.
What they all have in common is an address, but it is also a home where their lives and secrets intertwine. Come in and enjoy this bittersweet story of friendship and love.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781439154830 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Atria Books |
| Publication date: | 12/22/2009 |
| Edition description: | Original |
| Pages: | 352 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.20(w) x 7.90(h) x 1.00(d) |
About the Author
Hometown:
Wonersh, Guildford, Surrey, EnglandDate of Birth:
December 22, 1968Place of Birth:
High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire, EnglandEducation:
B.A., St. Edmund Hall, Oxford University, 1990Website:
http://www.elizabethnoblebooks.comRead an Excerpt
Four Seasons Hotel, East Fifty-Seventh Street
Good morning, New York!" Ed's Robin Williams impression reverberated around Eve's poor head.
Last night, celebrating their new life with dirty Grey Goose martinis in the hotel bar had seemed like the obvious — the only — thing to do. They'd had a few drinks, and a late dinner, and very sexy hotel sex, and about five hours' sleep. This morning, not so much. The dirty Grey Goose martini may be a very New York drink, but Eve was clearly still a very English girl. Dirty was the word. Eve's mouth felt like the proverbial bottom of the parrot's cage.
She pulled the down pillow over her head in an attempt to keep out the bright sunshine pouring in through their twelfth-floor wall of windows, but it was insistent, like Ed, who was now running through his Sinatra repertoire, oblivious to the fact that she might just have to kill him soon. Thou shalt not — not ever — drink three vodka-based cocktails. The eleventh commandment.
The doorbell rang. Ed was obviously in better shape, as usual. It took more than three drinks to fell her husband. He answered the door with a cheery "Good morning!" and admitted their breakfast, brought in by a waiter so discreet that he laid a table, arranged an orchid in a vase and silver domes on porcelain plates, then left again without ever acknowledging the groaning woman-shaped lump under the duvet.
"Come on, lightweight. Breakfast." Ed, who was, she now noticed, already showered and dressed, flipped up the bottom corner of the bedspread, exposing a foot. He squeezed her big toe.
"Ugh."
"Tea?"
"Mmm."
"Wasn't sure what you wanted, and wasn't about to risk waking you up, so I ordered pancakes, bacon, fruit salad, egg-white omelette — "
"Who would ever want to eat an egg-white anything? The yolk's the only fun part of an egg."
"And the only part that will kill you."
Eve sat up grumpily and accepted the cup of tea he proffered. "And so it begins..."
"So what begins?"
"You're turning American. Joining the cholesterol police."
Ed laughed. "So I guess you want the pancakes and bacon?"
"Kill or cure." Eve came to the table and peered under the silver dome on her side of the table.
"I'm hoping for cure. Busy day in prospect..." Ed raised his glass of orange juice in a toast, and clinked it against Eve's cup. "Here's to the new house!"
Except that it wasn't a house. Eve and Ed used to live in a house with a name, on a street with a name. In a house with a garden and a driveway and a garage for a car. Their car. Ed had a shed in the garden. Eve had a job. Eve used to live twenty-five minutes from her sister and her nieces and nephews.
That was then. This was now. She took her tea to the window and looked out at the tall gray buildings and the blue, blue sky. Steam rose from manhole covers, just like in films. She couldn't kick that feeling — like she was herself in a film. But this was real. This was it! They were here...
Two pancakes, three rashers of very crispy bacon, four mugs of tea, and a fifteen-minute power shower later, Eve felt human. Ish. When she emerged from the bathroom that was bigger than her bedroom at home, Ed was on the phone and it was obviously work. She frowned at him. Today was their day.
He raised a conciliatory hand and shrugged apologetically. But he said, "Yep. Right. Yep. I'll be there in" — checking his watch — "half an hour. Forty-five minutes tops. Great." When he'd hung up he came and sat next to her on the bed and put his arm around her shoulders.
She glared at him reproachfully. "You promised."
"I know. I won't be there all day, I promise. Just a couple of hours."
Neither of them believed him.
"You'd better be there when we pick up the keys." That was three p.m.
"Definitely." Ed was pulling on his jacket. "I'll meet you there."
"Okay."
Ed took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. "I'm going to make love to you in every room tonight."
She crinkled her nose up and sniggered. "Cheeseball. Good job it's a classic four, not a classic six."
"Get you, with your New York Realtor talk."
"Oh, I know all the lingo."
He smacked her rear. "And, FYI, I reckon I could manage a classic six or, indeed, a duplex."
Eve laughed. He probably could, actually. When they'd moved into the cottage, he'd managed every room, the patio table, and the shower, although, truthfully, things had gotten a little halfhearted by the time they'd gotten to the old larder with the freezing cold marble countertop. She'd made him promise they'd christen every house they ever had that way, even the assisted living facility she was confident they'd end up in. He remembered.
One more quick kiss, a groan of regret, and he was gone.
Back to bed then, just for a while.
She couldn't believe she was here. Everything had happened so fast. Four months ago there had been no hint of any of this. Four months ago she'd been looking out the window at her garden, at the deep beds she'd dug the year before, thinking about springtime. She'd loved that garden. And the house. Their first house. A three-bedroom cottage in a village four miles from the center of town. Top of their budget when they'd bought it, it still needed lots of work — the old couple they'd bought it from hadn't done a thing to it in twenty years — so she'd become a rabid weekend DIYer. She'd learned to strip wallpaper, and tile and grout, and over the course of a year or two she'd eradicated all the eighties décor and created a place she truly loved — all white walls and deep sofas. The garden had been the best part and the biggest revelation. She'd never taken the slightest notice of the seasons before. She'd lived in her parents' house, where the garden was somewhere to play and lounge around, in university halls and in flats, where, on hot, sunny days, Clapham Common was the only garden you needed and you ignored it for the other 360 days of the year. But after they bought the house, she drank the first cup of tea of the morning on the little patio off the kitchen, almost every day, drinking in the sights and sounds and smells of the garden all year round.
She'd been on the patio when Ed had come home that day. She was wearing his Barbour and a rainbow-striped woolly hat that she'd had forever and that Ed called "the tea cozy," drinking a mug of Earl Grey, and inspecting her beds, daydreaming of bulbs. She was always home an hour or so before Ed. He worked in London and was at the mercy of the capricious trains. Much as she loved him, that hour was often her favorite of the day. All her own. A good day's work done (mostly). Time to indulge her newfound domesticity. Marinade something. Prune something.
He'd been later than usual, that day. She'd smelled beer on his breath as he kissed her. "Evie." She loved that he called her Evie. He had, since the first day she'd met him, and he was the only person in the world who did, since her mum.
"You've been drinking!"
"Sorry, Mum. Just one."
"Who with?" She put her hands on her hips in a Lucille Ball sort of way, but she was smiling.
"The boys from work."
"The boys" were an amorphous lump of masculinity so far as Eve was concerned. She'd met them, possibly, at the Christmas party, at the Summer Family Fun Day (and the award for most misnamed day goes to...), but they were an indistinct lot — Ben and Dan and Tom and Dave and Tim and...the rest.
"Good day, then?"
"Great day."
Now her curiosity was aroused. "How so?"
"Come inside, babe. It's freezing out here. I want to talk to you." Ed pulled her by both hands, walking backward toward the door. She let him. Inside their kitchen, he went to the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of wine.
"We're celebrating." He grabbed two glasses from the dish rack and poured.
"What?"
"I've got a new job. I've been promoted."
"Ed! That's fantastic! I didn't even know you were up for something."
"Nor did I. Well, not exactly."
Eve picked up the two glasses, handing him one. "You star. Cheers."
"Cheers, Evie." They both drank.
Eve pulled out a chair and sat down, still watching him. He looked so happy. "Tell me all."
"I haven't told you the best bit."
"A raise?" A raise would be great. They could really do with reducing the mortgage. All the spare cash they'd had in the last couple of years had gone to renovations...
"Yes, yes, a raise. A pretty massive one. But that's not it." He widened his eyes, smirking at her.
She smacked his chest playfully. "Stop teasing me, you bugger. Wha-a-at?"
"The job is in New York!" Ed did jazz hands. He looked strangely comical doing jazz hands. The moment was surreal.
"What?"
"New York. The job's in the New York office. Manhattan. Two years, maybe more if we want. New frigging York, Evie! Can you believe it?"
Eve felt like all the air in her lungs had been sucked out. Her cold, garden cheeks were suddenly hot.
Ed stood in front of her, jazz hands frozen. "So talk to me. You look like a fish." He blew out his cheeks, and made ohs with his mouth. "Say something."
"Wow."
He shook her gently by the shoulders. "Say something else."
"New York."
"A whole sentence would be good."
"You took this job?"
Ed's face fell just a little. "Well...I told them I'd need to talk to you first, obviously, but..."
"But?"
"But I said I was sure you'd jump at it. You will, won't you? Jump at it? I mean, it's not like we haven't talked about something like this — "
"We talked about it once, years ago."
"But you were up for it then, weren't you?"
"Well, yes..."
"And nothing's changed, has it?"
"There's the house..."
Was that a flicker of irritation crossing his face? "And we can keep the house, Evie. Of course we can."
"I love the house." She sounded wistful, even to herself.
"I know you do. I love the house, too. We'll keep the house, Evie. They'll rent us a place, sort all of that out. It's a really sweet deal. We'll be much better off. We'll rent it out, of course. Tenants will pay the mortgage. And we'll come back."
"Will we?"
Ed knelt down by her chair and put both arms around her hips. "You don't sound happy like I thought you would, Evie."
She laid her head on top of his, in her lap. "I'm just...it's a bit sudden ...it's a bit of a shock, that's all."
"Not a shock. A surprise. A wonderful, fortuitous, bloody marvelous surprise." He rubbed her hair. "Hey, Evie. We can talk about this as much as you like. We can say no."
She looked at his face, trying to figure out whether or not he meant that. His lovely face. She knew she wouldn't make him say no. Eve wasn't quite sure when it was decided that Ed had the career and she had the job. Or who had decided. But she knew that that's how it was. And so she knew that they would go to New York.
And now she just needed to figure out how to be happy about it.
And so four months later, here she was, (almost) completely happy about it. She was even (almost) a little ashamed of her initial reaction. It wasn't very intrepid of her. This was a huge adventure, wasn't it? A fantastic opportunity. The most exciting city in the world. She wanted to be the sort of woman who grabbed life. Who'd ride a bike downhill without the brakes on, and who'd sit in the front seat on the roller coaster, and who'd stand at the karaoke mike. She'd always wanted to be that sort of woman. And now she could be. This was the perfect place to be that woman. And today was a good day to start...
Perhaps she'd start by calling her sister. Cath had always been that woman. In some ways it made no sense that she was here and Cath was there, married to Geoff. Slightly wet Geoff. Who ever knew what alchemy was at work when two people fell in love? It made no sense, sometimes.
Cath answered on the third ring. She sounded out of breath.
"It's me. Eve."
"Eve! How are you? How's it all going?"
"Oh, you know, it's hell at the Four Seasons. What to eat? What treatment to get at the spa? Just ordering from the pillow menu is exhausting..."
"Shut up. I just cleaned poo out from under my fingernails."
"That's disgusting. How are the poo machines?"
"Smelly. Noisy. Adorable."
"I can hear one now."
"That's George. He wants Cheerios in the car. I've only got a minute, actually, Sis. School run, you know."
"I forgot."
"No worries. Sometimes I forget, and that's much more serious. I've got a sec. How is it, really?"
"Really? A bit weird. Ed's gone to the office, even though he's supposed to be off all day helping me, and I realize I don't know a soul. I'm totally friendless until he meets me later."
"Go shopping. No one can feel lonely in Bloomingdale's. Visa can be your best friend."
Eve laughed. "You're probably right."
"So when do you move in?"
"We get the keys this afternoon. The new furniture should be coming tomorrow. The stuff from England is meant to have cleared customs last week, but I've got to check. So today, I suppose, officially, although we'll sleep at the hotel for another couple of nights."
"No room service in the flat, I suppose."
"In the apartment? No!"
"Listen, hon. I'd really better go. Call me later, tell me again how fabulous it is?"
"Sure. I will. Love to everyone."
"And back. We all miss you like crazy, Eve."
Eve missed her sister, too. She could picture everything about Cath at that moment. George, with his plastic beaker of Cheerios and his untamable blond cowlick; the chaotic kitchen, full of unread newspapers and sticky jars; Cath, tall and willowy and totally yummy mummy.
Suddenly a little tearful, she sniffed and reached for the remote control. Nurse Hathaway and Dr. Doug Ross were arguing again. She lost herself in the County General ER and eventually slipped back into sleep, not waking until the credits were rolling.
Copyright © 2009 by Elizabeth Noble
Reading Group Guide
This reading group guide for The Girl Next Door includes discussion questions and a Q&A with author Elizabeth Noble. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
Questions for Discussion
1. Violet and Eve become close friends over the course of the book. In fact, Violet is one of Eve’s only friends in New York. What do you think Violet and Eve are looking for in each other? How does their friendship develop into more of a mother-daughter relationship? What do they share in common besides their British roots?
2. Until motivated, independent Emily comes along, Jackson is aimless and not particularly concerned that his life is going nowhere. Can Emily be credited for the changes that he makes? Who else in this book is saved by someone they love, or motivated to be someone better?
3. When we first meet her, Charlotte is at a point in her life when she fantasizes about what she wants, but never acts upon it. How does her fantasy of her relationship with the doorman force her back into reality? Does she ultimately grow up?
4. Eve’s solution to her loneliness (and to Ed’s new workaholic schedule) is to have a baby. How does she think having a baby will change her relationship with her husband and make her happier? Are her expectations met? Discuss whether you think Eve made this life-changing decision for the right reasons.
5. The Kramers’ and the Schulmans’ marriages begin to fall apart around the same time. How does each couple deal with their marital problems differently, both in public and in private? Why do you think the Kramers pulled through, even though they appeared to be worse off?
6. In spite of living in such close quarters, the residents of the building are very private, interacting only in the elevators and the halls and taking great pains to mask their problems. David Schulman’s secrets tear his marriage apart, and the Kramers’ secrets nearly do the same. Emily hides from Jackson after the blackout misunderstanding. How do these secrets, although often meant to be protective, end up hurting the characters?
7. At the end of the book, Eve and Ed fly back to London. What will time at home give them that New York can’t? Do you think they will still be living in New York in five years? Where will the other characters be in five years? Still in New York, or not?
8. Elizabeth Noble chooses a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote for the book’s epigraph: “Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail…” Now that you’ve finished reading the book, discuss the relevance of this quotation for the main characters. Who is forging a new trail and why is it so important to do so in life?
9. What significance do you think the title The Girl Next Door holds? Who do you think the title refers to? What did you think the title meant when you first picked up the book and how did reading the book change the title’s meaning for you?
10. New York is a powerful place for many people. How does each character connect with the city? How are they drawn into it? Do you have a relationship with New York? Even if you’ve never been there, do you feel you know it through books and movies?
A Conversation with Elizabeth Noble
Have you always wanted to be a writer? Do you come from a family with artistic ambitions?
I desperately wanted to be a lawyer when I was young. A British barrister. I always wrote, though – short stories and poetry. I typed my first novella on a children’s typewriter I got for Christmas, during the summer holidays when I was about 12. I’d have made a lousy lawyer, I suspect, and by the time I went to University in 1987 I’d changed my mind, and studied English Literature. As an adult, though, The Reading Group, my first novel, was absolutely the first thing I’d written. I’m the only writer in the family – my brother is a teacher, and my sister is a midwife – dad was a banker, and mum a nurse. I’m lucky in that it’s a family where everyone’s dreams and ambitions are supported and celebrated equally.
Like Eve, you also moved to New York City from England—tell us about your experience being new to the city. What advice would you give Eve? How similar are Eve’s experiences to your own?
When I first came to New York, I fell in love with the sights, sounds and speed of the city. Then the honeymoon ended, and I became exhausted by trying to keep up with everything. I found it hard to make friends, and felt awkward and lonely, just like Eve. I’d never presume to give her advice. What worked for me was remembering who I was, caring less about pleasing everyone else, and getting on with having a fantastic adventure in this incredible city…eventually, things slot into place. I’ll always be English, and I’ll go home eventually, but while I’m here, I’m going to make the most of it!
How much of an influence does your own life have in your writing? Were any of the characters inspired by your friends or neighbors? Which character in The Girl Next Door do you relate to the most, or find yourself most similar to?
I imagine it is pretty obvious that Eve is the character in The Girl Next Door I most relate to. Many of Eve’s feelings of loneliness and alienation, and just generally feeling all wrong in her new home, came directly from my own process of adjusting. But I’m a little bit Charlotte, too, in some respects, and I’d love to be a venerable, wise older lady like Violet.
Your earlier book, Things I Want My Daughters to Know, uses letters to provide structure. How did the idea of an apartment building help you to structure this novel?
Having an apartment building at the core of The Girl Next Door is helpful in that it provides a reason for all these disparate characters to meet and interact, just like real life does. This is the first time I’ve had a place almost be a character in a novel. Structure is vital in a novel – it’s a little like having a recipe to follow in a kitchen, and, for me, it helps keep me focused and my story tight.
This is your fifth book. How have you developed as a writer since you first started out? Do you feel that your work has changed significantly, or developed in a different direction than you may have originally intended?
I hope so! I think I have more confidence in my own voice and faith in my abilities (although there are always dreadful patches of self doubt and loathing during the writing process!). One change I have tried hard to instigate is my early tendency to resolve too neatly, and a slight compulsion to happy endings. Life is messier than that, and I have tried to make my conclusions a little less tidy to reflect that.
Which of your books gave you the greatest trouble to write? And which gave the greatest pleasure or pride?
The Reading Group was the hardest – you’ve no confidence, no real idea of what you’re doing, because it’s the first one. I had sold it to my UK publisher on the strength of 50 pages, and the next 550 came hard. Alphabet Weekends was undoubtedly the most fun to write – the pleasure in constructing a love story when you essentially knew the outcome very early on, but just wanting to revel in the journey, was immense. I am inordinately proud of Things I Want My Daughters to Know, possibly because it is the most personal to me. I am probably always most obsessed, though, with whichever novel I am currently writing.
How do you work? Do you put ideas down immediately or do you walk around with them for a while, letting them incubate? Who reads your writing first? Do you have any superstitions about writing?
My editor is always the first person to read a new book, and I’m notoriously unwilling to share anything at all until I’m finished. I write in a frustratingly disjointed way, and tinker all the way through, adding bits to the middle long after I’m happy with the ending, so I only really want someone to read the end result. This requires trust by the spadeful from anyone who edits me. I’m not remotely superstitious about it, and as a working mother with two young daughters, I can’t afford to have too many rituals or pretensions either...!
Who are your literary influences and what are you reading right now?
By my bed right now, I have Penny Vincenzi’s new novel, The Best of Times. Penny is a friend – we met on a book tour about five years ago – and I love her stories; The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, because everyone is raving about it; Candace Bushnell’s One Fifth Avenue, because I wanted to see how she wrote New York, and Michael Connolly’s The Scarecrow, because he’s so darn good! I read mostly fiction, but across the whole spectrum, and I usually have two or three books on the go at the same time. I’m not sure about literary influences, but I adore Anita Shreve and Armistead Maupin.
Are you working on anything new? Will any of the characters from The Girl Next Door make an appearance in an upcoming novel?
I am working on two new novels (a first for me – it is interesting to switch from one to the other..!) The first is a love story set back in the UK. The second is a sequel to The Girl Next Door in which several characters are reprised, most particularly Rachael and Charlotte…