NEIGHBOURS
Now that hed made it comfortably past his fortieth, George found himself taking stock of things more often these days. He had plenty to be proud of, plenty to feel good about.
His house was his castlesolid stone, sturdy and tall, with a high fence shutting the world out from the front. All the other buildings in his garden were just as strong and well-built, and his garage hosted a not-so-old British motor. All in all, everything stood firm and secure, built for the ages, closed off and private.
Well, except for the boundary with next door. That part of the fence just didnt exist. Always been the way round here, people saidlock up against the street, but not against your neighbour. After all, your neighbours closer than kin, the first person youd turn to in a pinch. So George, at first a bit baffled by the custom, left things as they were. Seems you cant change whats not yours to change.
Inside the house, all was just as steady. His wife, Sally, was practical, tidy, and as hardworking as anyone youd ever meet. Anything she touched turned out spot-on. She understood him with just a lookhe only had to give her his sternest glance, and that was that. George didnt stand for any nonsense.
The kidsSimon at twelve and Molly, tenwere good sorts, never cheeky, always mindful of Dad. And at work? He had a certain respect. Well, maybe not quite respectmore that people gave him a wide berth. He stood his ground, even with the boss. Most thought long and hard before bothering George.
On paper, it looked perfect. A full house, everything just as hed once dreamed. And yethe was starting to wonder. Had he missed a trick somewhere? Had something slipped by him?
Next door, a family much like his lived: Andy, about his age; his wife Jenny, and their two kids. Theyd moved in a year ago when the old couple, the Hadleys, finally left for a flat. Made senseit was hard work for them in their later years. The new folks put their own stamp on the place. The veggie patch was downsized, Andy built a sports corner with a pull-up bar, parallel bars, even a basketball hoop.
He even set up a little paddling pool for the kids and brought in a whole heap of sand from the local builders merchant. Laughter and shrieks from their garden pretty much all day. Both Simon and Molly loved popping roundtheyd become thick as thieves with next doors kids. George didnt mind, so long as theyd finished their jobs at home first.
Hed also noticed Sally was over there a lot tooknocking up new curtains with Jenny, or learning all sorts of clever recipes Shed show Jenny how to care for the apple trees or bottle up fruit jams and pickles, then come back home all cheery, eyes twinkling. That light would die, though, the minute George caught her eye. Shed busy herself with chores, smile wiped clean from her face.
At the border between the two gardensright on the edge, as they called ita bench had been there for donkeys years. In the stillness of a summer evening, George liked nothing more than plonking himself down there, cigarette in hand, soaking up the sight of his plot, just being.
Sometimes Andy would join him for a chat. Theyd have slow, meandering conversations about the towns goings-on and whatever was happening in the world. Andy always brought along his catsnow-white, green-eyed Maisie. Shed settle herself on the bench, listening in and adding her own thoughts with quiet meows.
George wasnt one for catscouldnt see the point, always under your feet, no use at all. The kids had once brought home a stray kitten, and George had promptly sent both them and the furball packing. Theyd come back without it, having found it a different home, but hed seen the hurt and confusion in their eyes.
Let it go, he thoughttheyll understand when theyre older. What mattered was they didnt defy their father, that things were as he said.
Whats the point of her then? George would ask Andy about Maisie. Not much use, is she? Wouldnt mind if she was pedigreeyou could sell kittens, at least thatd bring in something. But youve had her spayedjust money down the drain, that.
Not everything needs to make money, George, Andy would grin. Maisies part of the family. The kids dote on her. Shes affectionate; she even thinks were her kittens, you know. Makes us all a bit kinder, I think. Even my own heart softens up a bit when shes around, Andy said, stroking Maisies silky head as she purred at his touch.
And whats the use of a soft heart? George would press. Youll just end up letting people walk all over you with a heart like that.
Not quite, George, not quite, Andy would smile, glancing towards his own house, where his wife and kids were playing by the pool. A soft heart means its not stone. It feels for people, helps you tell a good soul from a nasty one. Im warm to the good ones, but I dont let the bad anywhere near me or mine. But a stone heart? Cant feel people at all, thinks everyones out to get you. Makes you lonely, too.
Maybe youre right, neighbour. Maybe George caught himself by surprise. Hed never doubted himself before.
He began to watch the way things went next door. Andy getting ready for workhis wife came to see him off, he hugged her, kissed her cheek, murmured something that made her laugh out loud. The kids waved from the window, and Maisie accompanied him to the gate. You could see the spring in his step as he set off for work.
As for George, no one ever saw him off. They kept out of his way. The kids never waved him goodbye either.
And when Andy came back after a days work, the kids would dash upDad, Dad, youre home!while his wife wiped her hands on her apron and told him something funny, probably about the children. And Maisie would wind around his legs, curling her tail about him. And just like that, any tiredness seemed to melt away from Andy.
Whys it not like that at mine? I go to work dragging my feet, come home and just want to be left alone; one growl from me and nobody dares crack a smile. Maybe thats itno happiness in the house, thats why Im so glum. Maybe I should try being a bit gentler. Maybe even get a cat…
One day, Andy said, George, I hear youre a pretty good fisherman. Fancy taking us out? Bring your wife and kids toolet everyone have a bit of fun by the river.
We could, George said, but is it really fishing, with wives and kids along? Youve got to set out before dawn, and theyd take forever getting ready.
Well, well go the night before, Andy said. Ive got tents. You and I can fish early while everyone else is still asleep, and by the time theyre about, the best bite will be over.
So thats what they did. Drove out in two cars, pitched the tents together. While George and Andy were hauling fish from the river for the stewpot, their wives and kids set out the campsite, gathered stones for a fire, and put the kettle on.
Their catch for the evening was superb, and the fish stew was even better. The children ran about wild, but George, not wanting to lose face before Andy, didnt bark at themand found he didnt want to, anyway.
Maisie came along too, and sometime in the evening she found a stray kitten, dragging it back from the woods to the fire. The kids fussed over it, fed it leftovers and scraps of fish, carefully picking out all the bones. The kitten looked half starved, purring with happiness, its skinny tail quivering.
Watching the little thing, Georges heart gave a painful twinge as he remembered turning out his own childrens stray before.
Once it felt safe, the kitten climbed into Georges lap, snoozing at last. Andy took out his guitar and sang a few favourite old tunesproper songs, the kind that touched you deep down.
The night was warm, and the stars shone like old sixpences in the sky. It was perfect.
Next morning, they rowed out to a quiet spot theyd baited the previous evening and caught good-sized chubhalf a keepnet each. Returning to shore, they felt like heroes. The morning flew by.
The women picked berries in the woods, the kids played with the kitten and Maisie, splashing in the river shallows.
George noticed how different Sally lookedhappy, lively, catching his eye now with gratitude, not trepidation.
They started packing up to head home. Simon and Molly whispered together, shooting George nervous looks. He knew what was on their minds and, already decided, asked with mock sternness, Wheres your kitten? Had your fun and left him? Not this time, kids. Now you raise him and look after him, since youve made him yours.
Dad! Molly squealed, flinging her arms around his neck, and Simon beamed from ear to ear.
That evening, George and Andy sat on the old bench, swapping stories about fishing. Maisie groomed the little kittennow dubbed Percywho followed George everywhere.
Next weekend, fancy a turn in my shed sauna? George asked, I built a cracking one, but its been ages since I used it, and its not much fun alone.
Thats a plan! Andy agreed.
Come on, Percy, George scooped up the kitten, shook Andys hand, and headed inside. What a thing you are, eh? he murmured, scratching Percy behind the ears, Tiny ball of fluff, and yet here you are, right in my heart already
Next morning, as George was leaving for work, Sally caught up to him at the gate, You forgot your lunch! and handed him his packed lunch.
Thanks, Sal.
George gave her a squeeze, and this time she leaned into him, soft and happy, instead of shrinking away. At the window, the kids waved goodbye, and in among them sat little Percy, squinting in the sun, giving George a sleepy smile.
