57. New neighbours

The house next door is not empty anymore. A family has moved in and there has already been fights between the kids. It is the XXI' century but kids are still territorial. It is down to us parents to be all grown-up and responsible. 

So here I am marking papers when the doorbell goes. I usually don't bother at this time as it is always one kid or an other but hey it might be the new neighbours and I need to make a good impression. So I get up and go to the door with a smile. A girl, about 8, is crying her eyes out. I do not recognise her and think new neighbours so put on my birthday party voice.

'Hello darling! What's your name?'

She is not impressed. She starts howling.

'Oh dear! What is the matter? Something's wrong?'

'Your son! He says I am not allowed to play. He says I’m rubbish at cricket and ... and today is the day for cricket ...and ... and he’s going to hit me ... and ... and ...’ The howling gets louder.

'Stop crying! Just go and play! I'll deal with him.'

I call the trouble-maker (who indeed is my son) and grab an other one of my kids (out of 4 one is bound to be semi-reliable) and give clear instructions to get the new kid involved. Then I deal with my son.

'All right young man, get in there. Time out. 5 minutes.'

I get him to sit at the table next to me while I am marking papers. I'm thinking I'm so good at this. I've got it all sorted.

I carry on marking but in fact I am looking at him. He is sitting there with a face like thunder. He is covered in dust, his tears leaving dirty streaks on his cute little boy's face. His hands and nails are black, his hair is dishevelled and all spiked up, wet with sweat or who knows what. His clothes look as if he's just returned from a year-long expedition. Who knew playing cricket could be that messy? 

'What have you been doing out there?'
 
'Nothing! Nothing at all! That new girl keeps crying all the time because she never gets the ball but she can't play cricket! Do you want me to play with babies? And so I get time out. It's just not fair. I always get punished. Always. It's not fair.'

'I meant what have you been doing to get this dirty. You need a bath.'

'I don't need a bath. Prunella needs to go home for a bath because she's a baby. ... 5 minutes done?'

'Not yet.'

I go to the window to check that Prunella is playing with the others. She's got a bat in her hand and she has stopped crying. That's good enough for me. I wait two minutes and let the trouble-maker go and play. He dashes out as if running for his life, yelling all the way.

I sigh.

Phone call. Husband will be late. I am secretly pleased as this means time to finish my work, get all kids out the way and maybe we can have a chance to talk to each other at dinner without too many interruptions. That would be nice. 

I get back to my marking and I get it finished! Amazing. Doesn't time fly when you're enjoying yourself? I am so happy with myself. I have got it all under control. 

I am going to call the kids, get them nice and clean (I briefly shiver at the thought of the dirty water), feed them beans on toast and a piece of fruit. Which they won't eat. So what I should say is I will stick an apple in front of them. Full stop.  It is very economical. The apple can be used all week long, covering all lunches and dinners.

I put on the radio and I feel so good I am dancing around and singing to myself when the bell goes again. I dance my way to the door and am still twisting and singing, snapping my fingers.

My mood changes in a split second. A woman I do not know is standing at the door. She doesn't look happy nor friendly. She can't be the new neighbour.  Still I try my birthday party voice. Can't do any harm.

"We have just moved in next door and we are thinking that maybe you should keep an eye on your kids.' She says fiercely. 

So she is the new neighbour but making a good impression is suddenly out of the window. I abandon the birthday party voice for a full-on angry do-not-mess-with-me teacher-voice and snap back.

'I understand you are new in the area so I will be happy to inform you that we, mothers, take it in turns to keep an eye on our children. It's fun, you'll see. You sit in the unbearable heat, the sun beating on your skull, sorting out fight after fight, dishing out Band-Aids and cool water, quelling over-adventurous streaks while, at the same time, promoting safe risk-taking. We do also, of course, throw in a bit of home-schooling while we are at it. You know, simple stuff, latin declensions, for example, do go down very well indeed.' 

She looks at me as if I have two heads. I smile and shut the door. I feel the better for it and so I turn the music on louder. And for good measure I decide to let the kids out half an hour longer. I grab a drink and a magazine and sit out in the back. Bliss.

The kids are still out there having fun. They're not the only ones I am glad to see/hear. Maybe all the mums are out in the back-yard sunning themselves but now the sun's going down and I am behind schedule! I go on a frantic search for tins of baked beans wondering what am I going to do if I have none. I find some, tip the contents into a pan, lay 4 plates, four sets of cutlery, four glasses. I find some bread and put slices in the toaster. I even manage to find a take-away menu which I place on the table so I can choose while my lovely children have their meal. All the while thinking I am just in control. Thinking I have got it sorted.

I go to the front door to get the crowds in. I stop at the door as I can see through the window a little group has gathered. My husband is there obviously just arrived and he is waving his finger looking sternly at our brood. They all look sheepish (quite an achievement). 

I go straight back to the kitchen to talk to my baked beans. I hear them all come in and come into the kitchen. 

'What's up?' I ask.

'Well.' He says turning towards them:

'You tell mum what happened. How you lot managed to upset the new neighbours on day one. Go on.'

'I was not nice because I didn't let Prunella have a go at batting.' my son says.

'It was not nice to call her Cruella.' says the youngest. I had not been made aware of that I note. There's more coming.

'I did nothing wrong.' pipes in the eldest, showing off at being the big one and playing the Miss Goodie Two-Shoes which gets her angry looks from the other three.

Number two is quiet as a mouse and that is very much out of sync with who she is. I suspect the worse. 

'Go on.' My husband says to her.

'I shouldn't have asked them about their bathing costumes.' she says in a low voice.

I am puzzled and look at my husband whose expression is saying 'wait for it'.

'And in what way did that upset them? Please tell us.'

'I did nothing wrong. I just asked them if they had lost their bathing costumes because ... like ... when they moved here.' 

She stops, looks at her dad who encourages her to go all the way. I can see the other three are ready to burst out laughing. They have puffed-up red cheeks and they are looking at each other knowingly. Sensing she has a supportive audience, she suddenly blurts it all out.

'Because ... you know ... maybe they could not find them. You know like we did lose stuff when we moved and ... because I saw them in the pool last night. It was dark and the pool lights were on ... and ... and they were swimming ... naked!'

The others are laughing out loud now, releasing all the tension of sitting and being sermoned. Which makes her go on:

'... and ... they were all ... smoochy smoochy ... all like ... naked!' 

The four can't hold it in any more, fits of giggles all round the table. I find it hard to look angry. I look at my husband who says sternly.

'That's it! We know enough. Remember you are grounded until further notice. Go now! Shower! Dinner! Bed!'

My husband fills me in with the details: in the middle of the night our daughter had been woken up by some bright lights, had heard voices and got up. From her bedroom window she had seen the neighbours in the pool. She had apparently spent enough time peering down at them to observe that there they were not wearing any swimming costumes. 

Then she had had the idea to ask them if they always swam naked or if it was because they couldn't find their costumes after the move. And thus I get all the details of the disastrous welcoming the new neighbours day.

And I thought I had it all under control!