Monday, May 10, 2010
Best served cold
Our book group on Friday was at J’s. J lives opposite A in a very upmarket area of large, stone-built detached houses set in big gardens. We usually take a while to get around to discussing the actual book – we have to catch up on our holiday plans, our children’s and pets’ latest accomplishments or crises and how we’re feeling about the election, the weather, the road works and so on.
Which is how our hostess started telling us about the neighbours along the road who have built what J and A consider to be an inappropriate extension to their house. Quite apart from the eyesore factor, what really annoyed the rest of the inhabitants of the street was the mess the builders had left on the pavement, the obstruction caused by piles of bricks, the noise of machinery and the constant inning and outing of vans.
“I felt like doing something bad, like…” J considered ”… writing rude things on their car with lipstick.”
We shook our heads at such a wicked idea.
“Actually –" A leaned towards us, looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows dramatically, “M - she lives next door to the house with the extension - has taken revenge! Don’t tell anyone, though.”
We all nodded, trying to look at the same time curious and discreet.
“Last week –" dramatic pause – “she threw some of her slugs over the wall into their garden.”
Urban terrorism? Alive and well and living in the Grange.