Neighbours Part XI

I haven’t mentioned the neighbours for a while. Truth be told, there’s not an awful lot to mention. Number 6, the flat above ours was sold, and the new person moved in. A youngish chap, but he seems the sensible sort, not the rowdy type. He’s not made any noise to speak of, and that’s good. There’s nothing worse than an anti-social neighbour. Every new tenant or leaseholder immediately orders giant boxed things from Amazon, without fail. So I know his name, from the labels on the Amazon boxes he’s thrown in the recycling bin. We have previously established that I’m a nosy neighbour, haven’t we? Anyway, I’ve searched for and found his Facebook profile and that gives no cause for concern.

Number 2 has also now been sold at auction and is once again advertised for rent on Rightmove. They are looking for £775 p/m which seems reasonable. A man was in there yesterday, doing odd jobs, and set the burglar alarm off. The siren went on for quite a while, but by the time I got to the door, he’d turned it off. I said hello, as you do. And I asked him if he’d had to cut the power to silence it or managed to guess that 1234 was the code to turn it off. He had guessed it. I think he was a little alarmed that I knew the alarm code. Again, we’ve established that I’m a nosy neighbour. Nothing gets past me. I know it all.

But the most interesting development on the neighbour front is more a ‘neighbourhood’ thing. The coach in the photos above lives in the car park a hundred metres up the road next to the Co-op convenience store. The art work is impressive, is it not? A man has been spray painting the coach over the last couple of weeks. And I strongly suspect that he is living in the coach and has decided to make the car park his home. For now, anyway. I’d like to have a good look through the windows to see what’s going on. But I’m just nosy, not plain intrusive. There’s a line between the two and I shall not cross it.

I will have to ask around. I am a little bit of a detective when I need to be, which means – of course – that I have access to my own Homeless People Network. To be fair, my HPN consists of just one chap. A bearded man in his late 40s/early 50s who sits outside the Co-op begging for half the day. He also happens to live in the car park, albeit in a tent in the bushes at the back. He’d prefer to live in the coach I’m sure. But I can’t imagine him receiving an invite. He’s a little bit aromatic, shall we say. Still, I often buy him cheap sandwiches and pasties from the Co-op that have been reduced to clear. Last week I gave him a mince pie. He owes me a favour and it’s time to call that favour in. He’ll know what goings on have been occurring in that coach. To be continued.

6 thoughts on “Neighbours Part XI

  1. Shall we call you “Mrs. Kravitz”? Of course that reference would mean nothing to you unless you watched the TV comedy “Bewitched” which was popular decades ago in the States… most likely before your time.

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    1. I make little noise, pay my communal dues and keep an eye on things. I make an excellent neighbour. Unless, of course, you make too much noise, don’t pay your dues etc etc. In which case, I’m on your case… 🙂

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