Monday
“Maud, he’s at it again. The new neighbour. He’s doing it doggy style in the garden.”
“What!?”
“Doggy Style. Just like yesterday.”
“Downward dog, Idris. It’s called downward dog.”
“Well, whatever it is, it’s obscene, shaking his arse around while I’m trying to watch the birds. He’ll be scaring the starlings, bothering the blue tits, stressing the…”
“Idris, give it a rest. Let the poor man do his yoga in peace without you leering from the window like a peeping Tom.”
“I’m watching the birds.”
“The birds, or Mr. Goodwin’s bum?”
Idris Evans stepped away from the window, mumbling his way downstairs and out into the garden. The fence stood tall between them, five feet of weathered timber. All at once Idris regretted not making it six feet.
“Good morning, Idris.”
“Alright, Blodwyn Godwin?”
“Goodwin, but never mind. Just checking on that rake, is it? Did you mean to leave it out?”
“What? Oh, yes.”
“Oh, fair enough, it’s due to rain later, see. I wouldn’t want it rusting.”
“Yes, well, anyway you just carrying on your yogurt and I’ll worry about my rake.”
Idris turned his back on the neighbour and crossed the lawn. Fiddling with the rake until he was sure Blodwyn had turned away, before hooking it back inside the shed.
Tuesday
The tea was just right. Cool spring mornings were his favourite. A cuppa, two digestive biscuits, and the sweet sound of birdsong. Soon he would take a fresh cup upstairs to Maud, knocking gently at their bedroom door just like he had for the last forty years.
The creak of a backdoor pierced the silence.
Idris closed his eyes.
Blodwyn coming out for his morning dogging, or whatever it was Maud called it.
“Morning neighbour.”
Idris turned, to see two cloudy eyes and a bald head peering over his fence.
“Lovely day for it.”
For what? Idris wanted to reply, but he was learning silence was his best armour.
“Just checking, that gnome of yours. Is there any chance he could face another way?”
“What?”
“It’s just that he stares at me when I’m doing the washing up. I know it’s silly, but it just feels like he’s watching me. It’s a little unnerving.”
Idris slowly, purposefully, turned his head, before getting to his feet and crossing his lawn.
He picked up the gnome and turned him thirty degrees.
“Much appreciated,” the neighbour replied, as Idris made his way back into the house, morning officially disturbed.
Wednesday
Idris had been caught again, at midday this time, and he now sat stewing on the neighbour’s latest ‘just checking’.
His aggravated thoughts were disturbed by the sound of a thud upstairs, and then a sickening silence.
“Maud?”
Idris pushed himself up from his armchair, bones creaking as he made his way to the foot of the stairs. He lumbered into their room, finding his wife on the floor, a wound to her forehead bleeding into the plush carpet. His shaking hands fumbled in his pocket for his phone, as he clumsily stabbed the numbers, nine, nine, nine.
“It’s alright, my love. It’ll be okay.”
Thursday
The morning broke and the birds sang, the cup of tea remained perfectly fine, and yet nothing seemed right.
The house was too barren without Maud, too still.
Last night had been anything but still, blue lights illuminating the street, the fence, the shed. Paramedics making their way through the house, cannulas inserted, I.V. drips hung above Maud’s battered brow.
Idris had followed behind in his Daihatsu Sirion, driving slowly, no longer trusting his reactions when driving in the dark.
When had they become so fragile?
Maud had been kept in overnight for observations and a CT scan. Worry lingered over Idris’ every thought; his phone sat heavy in his pocket, its ringtone a dreaded warning.
History had shown him that hospitals had a horrible way of keeping people.
As if his thoughts hadn’t darkened enough, he heard the dreaded creak of his neighbour’s back door.
He felt his jaw tighten. If that man utters that phrase one more time…
“Morning, neighbour, just checking…”
Idris spun his head towards the fence, and lumbered to his feet, his mind fighting to keep expletives behind his lips, until he saw that Blodwyn was holding a large dish, wrapped in a tea towel.
“Just checking, if you needed someone to talk to?”
Idris stopped in his tracks, his eyes settling on the neighbour.
“I couldn’t help but see the ambulance. I hope Maud is okay. I just thought, when my wife got taken into hospital, well, I barely ate the entire time. So, I got up early to make you a shepherd’s pie.”
“Oh, uh. I don’t believe I’ve met your wife.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. She passed away last year. That’s why I moved. It’s just me now.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“No, it’s quite alright. It just, well, it gets very lonely. Anyway, enough about me, how are you?”
Idris took the still warm dish from his neighbour’s hands and placed it on the garden bench. He mumbled his thanks and felt his mouth water at the smell that lingered in the air between them. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to think of his own needs.
“I’m fine, yes. Maud will be fine too, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure she will. Anyway, I won’t take up anymore of your time.”
Idris couldn’t help but detect a hint of sorrow in his neighbour’s voice. He wanted to speak and yet didn’t quite have the words.
“If you ever want to pop around. For a cup of tea, you’re more than welcome.”
The neighbour startled and smiled gently.
“I would like that, very much.”
The two men nodded, and that was that.
“I could even teach you a bit of yoga?”
“Now, now, let’s not be hasty, ey?”
Later that morning the fence stood as tall as ever, but carried the weight of two mugs as two stubborn men became friends.
Matt Roberts is a nurse from South Wales and has recently been published in the New Croton Review and Writing Magazine UK. He is currently working on his first novel and can be found over on Instagram at @mattrobertsauthor.
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