ODD NEIGHBOURS
Into flat 222, at number 8 on Byron Street, moved in new neighbours. A married couple in their early fifties, both on the short and slender side. He sports a beard and is usually seen in a grey overcoat. She often wears a long skirt and a colourful beret. Theyre both polite, smile appreciatively in the lift, and always hold the door if anyone is struggling with heavy bags.
And whats morequite a blessing with the way modern flats are builttheyre quiet.
At least, thats what we all thought at first. Barely two weeks later, however, the Smiths from 221 and the Harrisons from 223 both started noticing their new neighbours rather distinctly.
It was all anyone in the families could talk about over dinner.
Heres what the Smithsa couple around forty who had shared the same surname for half their liveswere saying:
Did you see the new neighbours?
Yeah, rode up in the lift with them yesterday.
What did you think?
They seem alright, perfectly ordinary. Why?
Turns out theyre quite affectionate.
What do you mean?
When you all head out during the day, its quiet in the building. You can hear everything. For three days now, theyve been playing games. You know, adult games…
Youre serious?
Yeah, and with quite the imagination. Its more like a film than real life
Haha, thats a laugh!
Youll hear for yourself one day, have a chuckle. In all honesty, though, its a bit off-putting and makes it hard to get any work done.
Oh come on, dont be such a prude. Theyre in their fifties and still playing.
He thought to himself, Not like us anymore, but wisely kept quiet.
That weekend, the head of the Smith family found himself an unwilling listener to the neighbours’ games too. This time it was the classic gardener and lady of the house routine. The Smiths sat and listened, blushing like teenagers.
***
Meanwhile, the Harrisons, the youngest couple on the landingboth nearly thirty, five years married, first baby on the wayhad their own conversations.
Ben, did you see the new neighbours?
Ran into them in the hallway yesterday, why?
Theyre fascinating. Shes always whipping up delicious food for him, like a chef. And he spoils her rotten. Not a day goes by without a present.
How do you know?
I go for walks every day. The smells coming from their flatunreal! Ive seen him coming home with flowers and gift bags, rushing in like hes off on a date.
Hmm.
Maybe theyre not actually married? Maybe just lovers?
Dont know They live together, dont they?
And the way they coo in the kitchenif you dont make too much noise with dishes, you hear all the giggles and laughter. Like a pair of teenagers.
Right. The news is on, Ill go check.
On Friday, Ben Harrison ran into the neighbour by the lift, who was carrying flowers and a bottle of red, looking very much like a man expecting an eventful night.
***
Time passed, and the odd new neighbours in 222 had been there a month already.
The Smiths next door had got used to the soundssometimes sighs, sometimes the creak of the mattress. The couple next door never seemed to tire of each other, living as though each day might be their last; always hurrying to enjoy every moment.
One evening, Vera Smith, averting her eyes, quietly spoke to her husband:
I went to the shopping centre today and wandered into the lingerie section. Look what I bought! She threw open her dressing gown.
Nick Smiths eyes lit up; he unconsciously licked his bottom lip.
I nipped into that you know, the adult shop, the other day as well, he said. Picked up something. Not sure if youll like it.
Well, we wont know unless we try. Vera blushed.
***
Process underway, whispered the man in 222, ear pressed against the wall shared with the Smiths.
***
Ben from 223 decided, over lunch one day, to stop by the jewellers. It had been ages since hed treated his wife to a present; once upon a time, he found reasons every week. Hed always kept a bit of her favourite chocolate in his bag.
Suddenly, he spotted a familiar coat.
Laura! he called to his wife. What are you doing here? Its a fair trek from home.
Oh, I fancied a walk, Laura replied, flushing. And you?
I got you a pair of earrings. Here you go, Ben couldnt help himself.
Laura beamed.
Thank you, love! She kissed him. Ive decided to make prawn carbonara for supper. Remember how I used to? Got the best prawns here.
I do remember! Just thinking about its making my mouth water.
Dont be late, Ill have it all ready by seven sharp.
Alright, Ben nodded, thinking he really ought to buy her flowers, too.
***
Well? Any news? asked the man from 222.
Shes cooking something special, beamed the woman. Looks like theyve sparked up again too.
***
Another month passed and the Smiths were transformedlooking ten years younger, stealing glances at each other, itching to get time alone together.
Occasionally, theyd slip away from the kids, spend a weekend at a hotel, and couldnt get enough of each other. They laughed, they talked, things ran smoother than they had in years.
***
Meanwhile, the Harrisons were preparing for their baby, but had started dating againcinema trips, nice dinners, art galleries. Laura had dusted off her old recipe book, and Ben was back to spoiling her weekly. His bag was never without her favourite chocolate. He couldnt even recall the last time he watched the evening news.
***
So, how are they getting on? asked the woman from 222.
Not bad, said her husband. Mattress is creaking, but quieterkids are at home, I suppose. In any case, things are definitely more cheerful. I keep an ear out, just to be sure.
And the others?
Happy as can belaughing in the kitchen like lovebirds. Flat smells better than a bistro.
Perfect! Three monthsmission accomplished. Well stick around a couple more weeks to be sure.
Right. Whos next on the list?
Simons, 4 Byron Street, flat 65. In 66, the couple are all caught up in the grind and can barely remember each others names. In 64, its the usual storysort out the bedroom first, then everything else follows!
Right then. Ill leave your tapes where they are for now, and keep up the noise a bit longer. Ill let the takeaway deliveries keep coming, keep the flat fragrant. Weve got plenty of scented oil left. By the way, those roses you changed the water for all weekdead as doornails now. Well need another bouquet.
Ill pick some up. Give my back a rub, will you? Lets get some sleepShe laughed, shaking her head fondly. Imagine if the world knew how easy it really was, she mused. A little theatre, a few flowers, a handful of chocolate. A script here and there, a nudge in the right direction.
He stretched, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and smiled. Whats easy is forgetting to bother, he said. People need reminding whats possible.
Lucky we love our work, she replied. They glanced around their little flat, so much like all the others, then out over the lights of the city flickering on.
She straightened her beret with a flourish. Lets walk. You can carry the roses. Ill get the takeout. In two weeks time, a new address, and a new bedtime story.
Side by side, they slipped quietly down the hallway, waving at a blushing Smith as he fumbled for his keys with his wife pressed close beside him. Downstairs, laughter and cooking smells drifted after them.
Outside, while the sun set behind the rooftops, the pair linked arms.
One of them whistled a tunea song about love that never quite fades, no matter what the world forgetsand the tune echoed all the way down Byron Street.
