Sunday, 13 September 2009


For several months now my wife and I have been filled with abject fear and terror a degree of slight trepidation. All was well in our quiet little corner of the world. Flowers bloomed their way through their life cycles in our garden. Birds visited us and twittered, pecked, nested. The seasons came and went. Then one day that dreaded thing happened. Our lovely, quiet, single, lady neighbour put up a 'For Sale' sign.

Now I'm not saying that our small street is home to landed gentry who can no longer afford their stately homes or indeed to any other offshoots of High Society - how could it be with us living there? But they are a reasonably pleasant bunch. OK we have the little drummer boy who mercifully lives at the furthest reach of the close. Then there's the music fan who thinks it his purpose in life to act as DJ to the street but he too lives at a muted distance. 'Better the devil you know' seems very appropriate here.

Visions of several removal vans arriving next door and disgorging the possessions of The Simpson family filled our heads. Or maybe a Hell's Angels coven would tarmac the front flower beds to provide parking for their four dream machines with additional space for their biker friends. The possibilities were endless.

Sometimes I think that we should be able to have some input into the advertising when the house next door goes on the market. Just a sentence or two along the lines of 'Desirable residence - would suit silent, single, elderly, female, indoor, immobile person who enjoys lengthy sessions of macramé'.

Anyway, time moved on and recently the 'For Sale' sign was replaced with the death knell 'SOLD'. Then yesterday, my wife alerted me to the fact that the lady next door had visitors who were overheard asking which fixtures and fittings would be left. After much curtain twitching, we had spotted a charming looking couple of mature years who looked perfect to fill the vacancy of being our new neighbours.

As they drove away, we both heaved a huge sigh of relief. Then the thought came to me. What are they saying to each other as they drive off? Please don't let it be 'That house should suit our three lads fine when they finish their sentences for violent affray next week'.

1 comment:

  1. My next door neighbor just put his house up for sale. enough said