**The Nosy Neighbours: How Vera Set Boundaries**
Andrew returns home exhausted, but the flat smells delicious—roast meat is cooking in the oven, and Vera is chopping vegetables for a salad. He kisses his wife and remarks,
“Smells amazing.”
“Putting in the effort for our guests,” she replies with a smile.
“*My* guests?” Andrew frowns. “I asked you not to bother cooking.”
“Well… they’re your family. After a long day, they’ll need a proper meal.”
“You’ll understand later, Vera. I wish you’d listened.”
A few hours earlier, his mother had called.
“Love, Lily—Lydia’s daughter—just bought a flat near yours with her husband. The water’s off during renovations, so Lydia asked if they could shower at yours for a couple of days.”
Andrew wasn’t thrilled. Even as a child, he’d disliked Lily—a sly one, just like her mother.
“Fine. But only for a shower, nothing else,” he sighed.
Lily and her husband, Tom, arrived in the evening.
“Hello! I’m Lily, this is my husband. You must be Vera?”
Without waiting for an invitation, Lily wandered through the flat, testing door handles and peering into the bedroom. Andrew shut the door firmly.
“Weren’t you just here to shower?”
“Oh, yes! Vera, could we borrow some towels? We forgot ours.”
After washing up, they lingered, sniffing the air in the living room.
“Mm, that smells lovely!” Lily chirped. “What’s cooking?”
Vera sighed and reluctantly invited them to eat.
They cleared every plate, then left—leaving behind towels, loofahs, and shampoo. Vera exhaled.
“I don’t mind the shower gel, but I’ll have to buy new sponges.”
The next day, it happened again. And the day after. Vera made a broccoli bake. Lily wrinkled her nose.
“Ugh! You actually eat this? Where’s the proper roast?”
On the fourth night, it was pasta with meat sauce. Lily complained,
“Hardly any meat in here. Just sauce.”
Andrew turned to Tom.
“When’s the water coming back on?”
“It’s already on,” Tom admitted.
Lily cut in swiftly,
“But the showerhead isn’t fitted yet…”
After dinner, Vera gave Andrew a look.
“I’ve got a plan to put them off. Just follow my lead.”
The next evening, as the guests sat down, Vera brought out a tray of dry oats, grated apple, and honey.
“‘Beauty Porridge’—very healthy. Andrew and I eat nothing else now.”
Lily forced a bite, then grimaced. They left quickly.
“You’re cooking tonight,” Vera told Andrew. “There’s frozen dumplings in the freezer.”
A day later, Lily called.
“You’re still eating that… porridge?”
“Yep. Vera’s strict about it. If you pop by, bring some beef—I’m sick of it.”
“No, no. We won’t be coming again. We’ve got water *and* a showerhead now.”
A week later, Andrew’s mother rang.
“Lydia says Vera’s starving you.”
“Mum, ignore the nonsense. I’m fed, happy, and well. Oh—and we’re moving into a house next month. Selling this flat. Then we’ll see who’s really ‘family’.”
