The Neighbour

The Neighbour

ONE

The aluminium dustbin weighed a ton as I carried it down the drive to join the bags already out the front. I was careful not to scratch Dad's Hillman Hunter. That was his pride and joy.

So much rubbish is generated by a house move. I didn't understand it. Surely you threw your junk out before you moved, not take it with you to the new house and bin it there. But what did I know? I was the kid. In truth, I was eighteen. Not so much a kid, but it wasn't something I could tell my parents. To them, I was still ten most days.

I tucked the bin against the little garden wall where it wouldn't block anyone's way and looked up and down the road I now now called home. It was a typical modern seventies housing estate. A cul-de-sac of nearly identical dormer-style semi-detached homes, of which ours was just one.

Only the house on the corner was different. A large detached home with a double bay frontage and Georgian-style windows with random panes of bullseye glass. They were the wealthy ones in the area. A brand new Granda Ghia sat on the driveway.

I looked back at my new home. Not quite as plush, but yeah. It was a far cry from the old Victorian semi we'd come from across town. It was coming into summer but my big hope was for the winter. This might actually be comfortable. I was sick of drafty rooms and ice on the windows. Dressing under the blankets and huddling around the coal fire. Or needing a hot water bottle just to unfreeze the sheets before I risked climbing into bed.

This house had double glazing and central heating. We'd arrived in the twentieth century, but given what I was used to, I could be living in an episode of Buck Roger's.

A dog barked in the distance and I headed back inside.

"It's crooked."

"It's not."

Dad was putting up a curtain rail with Mum supervising. She was standing back with her arms folded across that apron she always wore.

"Don't you ever use a spirit level?"

"I did, but it looks crooked against the ceiling."

"It'll look worse with one curtain on the floor and the other halfway up the wall."

"It's not that bad."

I stood next to Mum and looked.

"Actually, it is Dad." I offered, seeing the distinct slope.

"Thanks for your support."

Mum looked smug.

"Told you."

The other thing I loved about this house was the carpets. In that it had carpets. Not one giant square in the living room and linoleum in the bedrooms.

My room was at the back of the house. One of the two equally sized main bedrooms. Square, except for the airing cupboard by the door. It was on the landing but cut a corner off each of the bedrooms. The remaining alcoves were fitted out with built-in wardrobes. Someone's DIY job but sound. And the great thing was more heat in the winter through that gypsum board wall.

The third bedroom was a box room. Tiny. Dad would probably shelve that for storage but at the moment it was piled high with moving boxes. Somewhere in there was my cassette player and all my tapes.

The previous owners had been a younger couple. Younger than Mum and Dad, with two small children. No old people flowery carpets and wallpaper in dull colours. I still had the same divan and teak drawers and desk, but they already looked brighter and more up-to-date against the blues of the painted walls and short pile carpet.

Yes. My retreat looked more adult. I'd get some posters or something to make it look more homely. I wondered if I could get away with one of Ursula Andress looking sexy in that white Bikini from Dr No. Mum probably wouldn't be impressed, but then she hadn't seen Craig's room. My friend had some real risqué ones. It was almost a wall-to-wall Pirelli calendar with boobs everywhere you looked. Perhaps I should ask where he got them. Athena didn't sell anything that outlandish.

I went to school the next morning. My final few weeks of sixth form. I had a few last-minute lessons before sitting my A-levels then I'd be done. I spent my first period in the Common Room listening to records. Someone had brought in a Sweet LP I was happy to revise along to. I imagined Dad asking how I could hear myself think with all that racket but I was fine with it.

I had History before dinner then spent that at the local chippy with some mates watching the girls from the other school.

Lloyd was full of it as usual. Anyone would think he was Casanova the way he talked about how many girls he'd shagged. I'd never seen much evidence of it. We humoured him but we all thought he was a virgin, just like me. Craig was the only one of us we knew wasn't. He'd done it up an alley with Shelia after a school disco while we'd kept watch-out on the main road sniggering.

Shelia was okay. Quite nice to look at but everyone knew she was a bike. It did give him a bit of street cred with the rest of us though.

"What about Kathy?"

Lloyd said, trying to encourage me to date one of the girls.

"I've seen her tits."

"Like hell you have." I laughed.

Lloyd had always 'seen her tits' or 'her minge'. According to him, half the girl's school, including some of the teachers had given him a blowjob in the broom cupboard. It was all crap.

"I have so. I saw her getting changed when I was at her house with her brother."

I sighed.

"Perv.

I don't care anyway. She's not my type."

"No one's your type." Craig teased.

"Stop waiting for the special one.

If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you are with."

I wasn't that bothered. Yeah, it'd be nice to have a girlfriend. Even a quick shag like Craig had managed. But I didn't obsess with it. Girls weren't my priority. Nor did I really know how to talk to them. Our schools were separated, boys on one side of town, girls on the other. There were an odd few pupils that crossed over for specific lessons. And there was common ground visited by both outside. Like the Chippy. Wimpy was another. Always a gang of giggling girls in the corner eyeing the boys up after school.

"Julia's here." Lloyd suddenly announced excitedly.

I looked up from where we sat on the low wall eating our chips. Julia was from the girl's school but came up to ours for the metalwork classes. She was a bit of a women's libber, but cute.

Lloyd liked her. And being a practical sort of girl she was right up his street.

"I think I'm in love." He said.

"Hey. Julia."

Yeah of course he had to shout out. And as always he got only a smile in return.

"One day." He said as he watched her walk on.

"One day."

"One day she's going to stick your prick in a vice and hacksaw it off." Craig laughed.

I stayed quiet.

"Are we going back to school?" Craig asked.

These last few weeks it was optional apart from the lessons. We were done. School was as good as over for us.

"Got a Maths refresher. I have to."Lloyd said.

"Not me. I'm off to the snooker hall.

Kev?"

That was Craig. He didn't take revising seriously. He also seemed to have a photographic memory so probably didn't need to. I did.

"Not me.

I'm gonna be boring and read up on the Indian Mutiny at home."

"Boring.

I'll help you out. We won."

I stood up and threw my paper in the bin.

"I think it was a little more complicated than that.

See ya later."

I walked home along roads fresh to me. This wasn't the old town I'd grown up in. It was bright and airy. Open spaces of green grass and house proud owners who liked decorative wagon wheels and fake shutters. This was more like the colourful world I saw on TV.

Two years ago Dad had bought our first colour telly and I was still marvelling at the vibrant colourful images. Moving to the new home made it seem as if I'd been lifted out of the dull black-and-white past and dropped into boogie land. The future.

These past few months especially, I did get a sense of change. Moving had brought it to the fore even more. Everything was changing. Music, fashion, even the Prime Minister. We had a woman. I didn't think she would last long. The unions would have everyone on strike again. And so many people hated her just for being a woman. My own history teacher had given us a lecture about 'that bloody woman'. At attitude that seemed a bit archaic to me.

And of course, we were on the cusp of a new decade. Six months and I'd be living in the eighties, the future of Gerry Anderson's U.F.O and countless Doctor Who stories.

I was changing as well. I was leaving school. All vestiges of childhood had slipped away almost unnoticed and I found myself on the verge of being an adult. Soon I'd have a job. Even my friends looked like men when I opened my eyes to it. They weren't those seven-year-olds I'd first met anymore. They had stubble and drank beer and leered at the girls we'd once teased. I just hadn't seen it until now.

We met the adjoining neighbour on Saturday. Dad was sorting out the garage while I helped by unpacking boxes.

Mum was doing what she did best. Supervising.

"I can hang the ladder on hooks, that'll make some room."

"The car isn't going in here." Mum insisted.

I had to agree.

"Dad. Just leave the car out. Everyone else does."

"They don't have a GLS."

He was proud of that Chrysler.

"The bloke over the road has a brand new Granada. That's outside."

"Squeezing it in here, you'll just scratch it." Mum mused looking at how tight the space was.

There was just too much to get in. An old kitchen unit on the back wall that served as a workbench, shelves full of oils and Old Holburn tobacco tins with carefully sorted nails and screws. Then there were the lawnmower and garden tools. Dad had declared he was buying a shed from MFI for those. A horrid plastic thing Mum had drawn the line at.

"You'll have a wooden one or not at all." she'd declared with disdain.

Dad puffed on his roll-up and saw sense with the car. He admitted defeat.

"Perhaps you're right. I could get a cover instead. I saw some in the Exchange and Mart. Practical Motorist usually has some as well."

"Hi."

We all looked around at once.

"Sorry. Thought I should say hello.

I live next door."

My interest leapt at the sight of her. She looked like Wonder Woman only a little older. What was she? It's damn hard to estimate someone's age. Mum was forty-two. Not as old as her. I guessed low to mid-thirties. But to be fair, all I was seeing was her legs and big tits in that fab dress. Lynda bloody Carter was my neighbour.

Okay. It wasn't actually Lynda Carter but she was pretty damn close. Oh yeah. Serious fantasy territory for later. I was tingling from head to toe.

Dad leapt forward. I'm sure he was as equally enthralled with what he saw.

"Sorry. Yes.

Pete." He shook her hand.

"My wife, Shirley.

And that's Kevin. Our boy."

I gave a sheepish grin as I continued to stare at what looked like a vision. She even had a halo around her. Okay, it was just how the sunlight appeared from standing in the dark garage. But wow.

"We moved in Thursday afternoon. Just been sorting things out since then."

"I'm Elaine.

Mum stepped forward.

"Well, it's good to meet you.

You lived here long?"

"Oh, I've been here since they were new. June nineteen seventy."

Mum chatted on about where we'd lived before, and Dad's work. I learnt Wonder Woman was some kind of secretary in her Diana Prince guise. Then came Mum's bombshell question designed to keep Dad in his place.

"Your husband work local?"

"No husband. Not any more."

To my adolescent ears that was a gift from the gods. It probably wasn't what Mum wanted to hear so much.

"So just you then? No children?"

"No. Just me."

"Well

If you ever need anything, just ask." Dad offered a little more enthusiastically than he should have.

"Kevin is handy. And he has lots of spare time."

That was Mum telling Dad he wasn't popping around to hang a picture. I was getting that job whether I wanted it or not. Elaine was looking at me, smiling. I suddenly didn't mind my services being offered.

"Thank you. That's very kind." She said.

"Happy to." I offered, going red.

Oh boy. There was a lot I could help her with.

TWO

"Julia has a great pair of jugs." Lloyd said watching the girl with her friends in a huddle.

In her trendy tie-dye shirt, it was hard to argue. They did seem to have a life of their own when she moved.

"Imagine those bouncing in your face." Craig added enthusiastically.

"Or getting a tit wank."

"You two are so crude sometimes."

I objected.

Craig just looked at me confused.

"She's a bird. That's why they exist."

"Gonna happen and you know it." Lloyd said with the absolute conviction of whatever disgusting daydream he was lost in.

I watched the girls. Four of them chatting and giggling. Kate had a ciggie she was puffing on, blowing clouds upwards above their heads. She liked me a little. I knew that. Nice shape. What you'd call athletic, with small tits. And her straight dark hair always had a healthy sheen to it. She was okay. I could see myself giving her one. I just couldn't get that excited about it though.

I turned the tables back on Craig.

"So what about you and Shelia?"

Craig grinned.

"She's a goer."

"You done it again?" Lloyd's attention turned from the girls at the hint of someone actually dipping their wick.

"She had the house to herself Sunday. Insatiable."

I rolled my eyes.

"You two are obsessed."

"Kev. Get yourself a bird. One with a nice handful and your dick will thank you. It's better than tugging off to Pans People."

I glanced at the girls again. Yeah. Kate was a possibility, I suppose.

"Maybe." I said without any real conviction.

"When I meet the right one."

Lloyd was getting itchy feet.

"Rightio. I'm gonna go get me some fanny even if you're not.

Catch ya later."

Lloyd headed toward the girls with the swagger of a cowboy in the whorehouse.

"Bet she blows him out." Craig laughed.

"If he ever gets his chance, it'll be in bubbles." I laughed.

I heard him ask Kate for a cig and more giggling from the girls. Craig lost interest.

"Come on. Let's go look at the mags in Bartholomew's"

I followed Craig to the little shop further along the high street. It sold everything that had been of interest to us as schoolboys. Books, pens and pencils, and of course magazines. As school leavers, that was about all that was left for us.

I checked out Practical Motorist and flicked through a DIY magazine. Craig was on the top shelf brazenly thumbing through Playboy and Hustler much to the disdain of the old lady behind the counter.

I moved to check out the paperbacks as Craig opened out the centrefold and made some enthusiastic Benny Hill type groan at seeing a gigantic pair of bazookas.

"You buying anything?" The old lady asked eventually.

"It's not a library you know."

Craig stopped with his lusting and came over to me sheepishly pushing his hand into his pockets.

"You done."

"Not quite."

I went to the counter with a copy of Arthur C Clarke's Rendezvous with Rama. The woman glared at Craig as she took my money.

"Thanks."

Outside we headed back up toward where we'd left Lloyd. Craig was still girl obsessed.

"Kate would be a good lay.

Why don't you ask her out?"

"Give it a rest. There's more to life than shagging."

"Tell me that when you've done it."

Annoying as it was, he was more knowledgeable on that front. And I did want to shag someone. Of course, I did. I was a teen with raging hormones. I was just always a little shy of making a move and found myself making excuses not to ask girls out.

"Not a fairy are you?"

"Dork."

"My brother's mate has a sister who's a lesbo. Shame. She has giant bazookas.

Bummer.

Saw her once with her girlfriend."

"What do you mean saw?"

"They were making out at my brother's pad. Smooching and everything.

You don't want to know where they had their hands."

"No way."

"It's different down London. People don't care. There's a thriving gay scene."

"Well, it's not for me. I most definitely like girls."

"Not seeing any evidence."

"Sod off Craig."

It was a good week before I saw my neighbour again. Bin night. I heard her gate rattling then the grating sound of aluminium dragging on the concrete as I walked back up the drive. Elaine appeared backwards. Her arse first.

"Here. Let me get that for you."

She turned at the sound of my voice as though she hadn't known I was there.

"Oh, Kevin. Thank you."

She'd remembered my name. I gripped the bin by its handles and lifted it. Not as heavy as ours and it only took a moment to take it to the front. Elaine was still waiting when I came back up the drive.

"I hate having to drag that thing out every week but the dustmen won't come up the drive any more."

I couldn't help it. My eyes flitted over her before settling on her face. Christ, she looked good. Perfectly made up with pastel eyeshadow and dusky pink lips. And big hair that fell in waves around that face. And just visible under it, small earrings with diamonds. Probably not real, but still classy. I felt myself colouring up a little.

"I always put our bin out. If you like, I can take yours as well."

I shuffled on my feet and pushed my hands into my pockets. I was trying to look all adult and managing only to regress to my infant school days.

Elaine smiled.

"I don't want to give you more work."

"It's fine. A two-second job."

"If it's okay with your Mum."

"Mum was hawking me out the other day, remember? She'll be fine with me helping a neighbour."

I got control of myself and spoke slower.

"And honesty. I'd like to."

"Well if you're sure.

It's always just inside the gate. The catch is up here."

She reached up to touch it. All I saw was her tit pushing out and it was a superhuman effort to look where she was pointing.

"It's a bit stiff though."

So was I now.

I reached up and tried it. It was. A layer of rust making its slide jerky and rough.

"Needs a bit of lubrication. That's all.

Wait there."

I felt quite the man rushing to open the garage with an eagerness to be helpful. I found some three-in-one oil amongst Dad's collection of tins and jars. A quick squirt and the bolt slid back and forth with ease.

"How's that?"

"Much better. Thank you.

These are the kind of jobs that don't get done now I'm on my own."

"If er ... you need anything like that done. Just ask. I'm pretty handy. I help Dad service his car and stuff like that all the time.

I do the garden as well. Well, I mow the lawn. Mum's the Percy Thrower in our house."

Oh god. That smile was infectious. And those eyes.

"Can you wire a plug?"

"Of course. Been doing that since I was eight."

She held my gaze.

"I don't want to get you into trouble but ... I do have a new hair dryer and it needs a plug putting on. I was going to wait for my brother but he's not over till next month."

"I can do it now. Wait there."

I was buzzing as I grabbed some screwdrivers and a pair of pliers.

We went in through her kitchen. It was identical to ours with blue cabinets and a white splash-back. Just the cooker and other the other stuff which were different. It all seemed just that little bit more modern. I noted the painted walls. Mum wanted to cover ours with Kingfisher Tiling on a Roll. I couldn't imagine anything more naff.

"Come through."

Her front room was gorgeous. Bright colours and a hefty-looking, comfortable three-piece suite. In the corner, a giant lava lamp glowed gently with its oils moving hypnotically. Her curtains were geometric patterns and the upholstery was strong plain colours. No bloody flowers and wooden arm caps here. It was earthy with browns and mustard yellow. This wasn't the stuffy home of my parent's generation. It was disco. A little bohemian.

I say front room. It wasn't quite the same layout as ours. Where we had wooden and glass doors separating the dining room away, Elaine's was open. One big space marked out only by the purpose of the furniture.