Mr. & Mrs. Goodwin

I.

Something’s happening up the street. It’s normally a quiet place apart from when the kids play along the road in the late afternoon and on the weekends. Nobody bothers anyone else, like we’re all aware that everyone’s lives ebb and flow on different currents. There are four houses on the one side of the road and five on the other, it’s a small street for where we are. At the end of the street there’s a set of streetlights that illuminate a path down into a shady green valley that leads to the town.

There was a dog barking last night, not just one bark but a prolonged series of barks. The only time ours barked like that was when there was a stray cat peering through the window at her a good while back.

I don’t sleep very good, so I was tossing and turning when I heard it start. My bad habit is checking the clock when I stir and the clock said it was a quarter to three. I hoisted myself up and wrapped up in my wife’s dressing gown and went over to the window, she’s usually a heavy sleeper. She woke up after a few minutes of the barking and asked me in a sleepy voice what was going on.

“I don’t know, something down the bottom end I think,” I replied.

“What side? Ours or across the road?” She asked.

It was just gone three and I could see lights coming on in the neighbour’s bedroom across the road, I think they’re called Bob and Danni, we’ve said hello a few times but other than that nothing, it’s their kids that like to play loud games of football and use the old council-issue metal bins as goal posts.

By this point a few of the other dogs living on the street had woken up to the barking and howling and joined in. Ours either doesn’t care or knows not to start anything because of the kids.

“Maybe you should go outside and check,” my wife said.

“Give it a few more minutes,” I said back.

I didn’t want to have to put trousers on and go out in the November air at this hour if I didn’t have to.

It gets quiet an hour or so after the barking and howling must have woken up the street. We’re both awake and happy none of it woke the kids up. Coffee is brewing in the kitchen and my wife turns the radio on low for some background noise.

We sit, drink coffee and eat toast as the last signs of the dark give way to the dawn. We sat there filling our bellies and trying to wake up and didn’t really talk about what the hell went on.

The kids come and join us just before seven, cereal boxes replace the empty coffee pot and my wife gives the two crumb filled plates a wash under the hot tap. I get up and grab the milk from the refrigerator and our youngest asks the room, “Was Jazz barking at something last night? I thought I heard her?” I tell him it was the dog in the end house and that something must have spooked it. I shower, kiss the family and get out and away to work while everyone is still in the kitchen.

Mid-morning and my wife calls the work number, I asked her if something was wrong.

“Nothing wrong I don’t think, just the woman down the end is acting strange.”

“Define strange?”

“She’s got the back of her car full to the roof with carpet.”

“What type of carpet?”

“Shag pile it looks like. Does that matter?”

It didn’t matter but I was just stalling for time to think of something to say. I tell her to keep an eye on things, but don’t be standing outside and drawing attention to yourself.

That night just before dinner, I spied the car that belongs to the house on the end pulling back in the street sans shag pile, or whatever carpet it actually was. I stood near the blinds and checked who was getting out.

“She’s back with an empty car,” I call through to my wife.

My wife comes to join me by the window, she didn’t say anything like me, we just watched.

Next day was a Saturday, we slept a bit longer and drank coffee in bed. Typically the bright couple of days we’d been treated to had turned into a wet weekend. I’d heard the rain on the window when I woke up first, I just turned back over and went back to sleep.

We were both sat up in bed when I heard a car reversing, I stood up and checked who it was, it was our neighbours across the road, so I put on a pair of slippers and quickly walked down to the front door, and waved over when Bob was getting out the car.

“Hey Bob,” I started off.

“It’s Brad,” came the reply.

“Sorry Brad, haven’t had my second coffee yet.”

“What can I do you for?” Said Brad.

“Do you know the names of the couple down the end?”

“Don’t know their first names, but know they’re the Goodwins, we had a Christmas card posted by accident last year and it was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin. I wanted to knock them up yesterday morning and ask what the howling was about.”

“Woke us up too,” I said.

“Debbie told me not to go starting trouble.”

“No, that’s for the best. Love to Deb and the kids. Have a good weekend.”

Brad gave a wave and we both turned around and walked back into our houses.

II.

Sunday came with no fuss. My wife takes the kids to Church because we want to get them in the Church School; it’s better for them and a damn sight better than the Community School in the town. I pottered around the house doing a couple of tasks I’ve been putting off for a few weeks. I was down the side of the house re-doing the storm-damaged fence. I hear a door, I spy over the top of the fence thinking it was next-door but I saw the lady from the end house walking out the front. She’s got that loud hound of hers on a tight leash and she’s struggling with a backpack.

“Good day for it,” I say over the fence.

She gives a half nod and carries on past, still struggling with the backpack.

When my wife gets back with the kids I tell her that I saw her from the end house and that damn dog of hers going past with a big bag.

“Maybe she’s going on a day hike?” My wife said.

“She’s an old lady, never seen her walking that dog before,” I replied.

“I remember him walking it, only time you’d see him pass the front.”

“And even then, he wouldn’t be gone too long.”

We settled down that evening pretty early. I was up the latest and even then I think I was sleeping before nine.

The start of the week is usually the busiest time for me, I visit the other sites the company manages, if I make good time I get back just before the kids go to bed on a Monday and Tuesday. Usually on a Wednesday I get out earlier and pick them up from school. It wasn’t like that this week. On Monday I hit the after-work traffic at six pm and then got caught by an accident on the Falls Road. I sat there with the engine off for almost an hour before traffic started moving again. Even when it started moving it was slow, I thought to myself, ’Sickos gawking at the accident are going to cause another one.’

I got in through the door and the kids were both in bed and my wife was sat at the kitchen table with a glass of something.

“Care to join a girl?” She said.

She pours a glass of red wine out for me and sidles up to me at the table.

“Lady down the end drove past me this afternoon with the car full of sheets and suitcases. I waved because I knew I was staring. She just glared at me and carried on out of the street.”

I took a sip from the glass and wrung my hands.

“Wonder what the old girl is up to, did you see him?”

My wife shakes her head and drinks.

She said, “That’s not all.”

“I’m all ears.”

“She walked back without the car about thirty minutes ago.”

I stood up and walked to the front window. Like I needed to double-check I stared down to the end of the street and saw no car outside the house.

“Maybe it’s none of our business,” I said to my wife.

“Maybe it should be?” she replied.

“We don’t keep tabs of all the neighbours’ business so maybe we need to stop keeping tabs of the Goodwin’s,” I said.

That ends the conversation with my wife, she gets up and moves into the living room.

The next day I woke up early and checked the street for the Goodwins’ car and it still wasn’t there. I put a coffee on and got the cereal boxes out for the kids and hoped I’d be home a little earlier that night. Once the coffee brewed I took it up to my wife who was just getting out of the shower.

I told her, “Even though the Goodwin’s business isn’t our business, keep an eye out and see what happens today.”

My wife took the coffee and sat on the bed, “Maybe I need to get out and stop thinking about all this.”

I told her to go into town after the kids were in school, have a wander around and maybe catch one of the girls for a coffee.

Just after my late morning meeting, one of the guys from the office came and found me. He said there was a phone call for me, thought it was my wife. I walked into the office and picked up the phone.

“The police are all over the street, and they’ve knocked on all the neighbour’s doors,” came the panicked voice of my wife.

“What did they want?” I asked.

“The officer asked me if we knew the Goodwins on the end.”

“What did you say?”

“I said we knew them to say hello to in the street,” my wife replied.

“I wonder what’s going on,” I said.

My wife’s voice broke and said, “The officer asked when was the last time I saw Mr. Goodwin.”

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Author: Dorian Richard Holmes is a writer and songwriter from Aberdare, South Wales, currently living in Cyprus. He spent several years as the main songwriter for various musical projects and published a collection of his lyrics from 2016 to 2025. He is currently writing short fiction, with plans to publish more of his work in 2027.

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