They’re the worst aren’t they?
You hear occasionally in the papers of neighbours warring and ending up in court as they won’t turn their music down, or tidy their front/back gardens dragging down the whole area.
Well here on The Croft we’re very lucky.
It’s a little peaceful haven and to be honest there’s not an awful lot to gossip about. We’re all very polite with our ‘mornings and ‘evenings, asking elderly Ted after his wife Leah who’s undergoing the umpteenth trial at removing cancer from her breasts definitely.
I’ve lent my sieve to Emma opposite on a couple of occasions and my magical potion PoxClin for chicken pox to Vicky on the back row when Josh followed my girls with the itchy disease.
We have been known to share drinks out front in the summer, come out after midnight on New Year’s Eve to pass on our good wishes for the new year and the kids play together, in general it’s a happy community…until last night that is.
I glanced at the clock as I woke. It’s a habit since the girls arrived just to see how much sleep I’ve had and unlikely of getting unless they go straight back down. It was 0.42
I tried to turn over and go back to sleep thinking I was having another hot flush but I could hear this woman’s voice in my head and couldn’t turn her off. A car alarm went off and I knew it wasn’t one of those scratched disc moments but real life.
We both went to the window to make sure it wasn’t our car and lo and behold there were number 69 shouting at the top of their heads and wrestling on the pavement.
She stood up.
He didn’t move and we could see he had a huge holdall with him, he just lay in the gutter whilst she poked him with her foot.
Incensed that she wasn’t getting any reaction from him she jumped into her car and started to rev up the engine madly.
She reversed away from him not taking her eyes off him for a second and then drove the bumper right up to him, nudging him to move. The engine was straining under the continued revs and making a hell of a racket but that didn’t stop her. And I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene unfolding beneath me.
The car next to her went off for the second time.
‘Shall I call the police?’ He asked me. No, it’s a domestic, it’ll be all over in a minute.
We watched, as he dragged himself to an upright position and started to walk away. She got out of the car, leaving it in the middle of the street and they met in front of the car. She started to punch him, hefty angry punches and at one point she was smashing his head against the bonnet.
She was one angry lady.
He fell to the floor and she started to kick him, venting her anger on him.
He managed to break away and holdall over his shoulder started to walk out of the Croft.
Was she going to leave him be? Hell no. She jumped in her car and making a Formula 1 racket followed him.
I jumped back into bed at this stage tired and worried the girls might wake and keep me truly awake. Paul followed and sleep swiftly followed.
Would you have intervened?