One side, the plaggy grass people, are a case of the better the devil you know. She’s ok but doesn’t really think much about her actions. Why close a door when you can slam the absolute fuck out of it? Why have your cheesy pop music at s normal volume when you can share it with at least five other streets? Why use an ashtray when it’s easier to flick your fag end over the fence? That sort of thing.
Their lad, maybe 13, used to have regular meltdowns and slam the door open and close for an hour or so or bang on walls. He only drank Coke which I’m sure didn’t help but they seem more sporadic now. Maybe he’s switched to Fanta, who knows. The girl who’s older has had the coppers round a few times but seems more sorted now. She was threatening to jump out the window a couple of years back but settled on launching a couple of vases instead.
The other side are great. She’s a head teacher and likes to sunbathe in her back garden, the two things aren’t related. Her newish bloke, maybe not that new thinking about it is South African. He’s always busy doing jobs, nice fella. We have a passage that’s shared so often chat. He can talk and talk but not listen that much as he has two hearing aids, he just nods really. He talks to me about tools, then I just nod. It seems to work.