“Morning,” muttered Diana as she shuffled into the office and slumped into her chair. She flicked on her computer, glanced out the window where heavy clouds merged with the gloomy sky, and didn’t even bother looking at her colleagues.
“Morning,” chirped back Victoria and Emily, exchanging a puzzled glance before shrugging. Diana was usually the cheerful one—everyone in the department knew her for her sunny disposition—but today, her lips were pressed tight, her mood as grey as the rain outside.
The office trio consisted of Diana, a thirty-year-old married mum to one son, quiet and tidy; Victoria, the oldest at thirty-six, a lively mum of two; and Emily, the youngest at twenty-seven, living with her boyfriend but not married. Victoria, true to her role as the eldest, usually broke the silence—today was no exception.
“Girls, fancy a cuppa?” she announced, already heading toward the corner with the kettle. “Won’t be a mo.”
“Go on then,” Emily chimed in. Diana stayed silent.
A few minutes later, Victoria returned with a tray of steaming mugs. She handed them out, but Diana merely gave a silent nod, no smile, no thanks. Trying to lighten the mood, Emily joked,
“Cheers, Vicky! You’re officially the office mum.”
They both chuckled, but Diana only managed the faintest smile. Victoria, never one to tiptoe around things, finally sighed,
“Diana, love, what’s up? You’ve got us worried. Did we do something?”
Diana shook her head. “No, no, it’s nothing to do with you lot. Just… family stuff. Not even at home, really—more like next door.”
“Marina again?” Emily frowned. “Honestly, how many times… Just ignore her. You can’t let it eat you up.”
“Easy to say when we’re literally wall-to-wall. Two houses on the same plot. My Michael acts like he doesn’t notice, and his brother Steven’s sound, keeps to himself. But Marina… she’s a nightmare. Last night, I finally snapped—told her exactly what I thought. Now I don’t even know how we’re meant to live like this.”
When Diana married Michael, his dad had built two identical houses in the yard—one for his eldest, Steven, and one for Michael. Right after the wedding, Diana and Michael moved into theirs, with Steven and Marina next door. But just days later, tragedy struck: Michael and Steven’s parents died in a car crash, leaving the brothers alone in that yard with their young families.
At first, things were fine. Both wives had babies around the same time. Life ran parallel, peaceful. But slowly, Diana realised just how different she and Marina were.
Marina—loud, brash, always complaining. Diana? The opposite. Quiet, loved her peace, cherished slow mornings with coffee and music. Michael was the same—steady, calm. They fit perfectly.
“I’ve never been one for big crowds,” Diana once told the girls. “My family—my husband, my boy—that’s my world. I don’t need anyone else.”
Marina thought differently.
“We’re all one family—we *should* stick together! What’s with this standoffish act?” she’d say.
But it wasn’t just talk. Marina acted like she owned the whole yard. She’d barge into Diana’s house unannounced, even when the baby was sleeping.
“Oops! Thought you’d be up already! Never mind then!”—door slammed.
Weekend mornings, when Diana snuck downstairs early just to savour a quiet cuppa, Marina would appear at the window like clockwork.
“Oh, you’re making tea? Pour me one, I’ll be right over!”
“Sometimes I just want to be left alone,” Diana would tell Michael. “But she *has* to stomp all over that.”
Saying it outright felt rude—too harsh. Though even Steven had scolded his wife now and then, muttering,
“Marina, leave them be. You wouldn’t like it if they invaded *your* space like this.”
Then last night, after a rough week, Diana ordered takeaway sushi—a little treat for their son finishing term with top marks. The second she stepped out to grab the delivery, Marina came flying out of her house.
“Sushi?! You got sushi and didn’t tell me?! Why do you always hide things?!”
A torrent of accusations followed. Michael tried to calm things down, but Marina made a scene right there in the yard. Steven finally dragged her inside, but the shouting carried on through the walls. Diana shut her door and burst into tears.
“Why do I have to justify every little thing I do? It was *our* dinner, *our* night! She’s always in our business, always shouting… All we want is some peace.”
Next morning, she walked into work shattered. The girls listened, shaking their heads.
“Ten *years* of this?” Victoria gasped. “I’d have told her where to go ages ago. No patience for that nonsense.”
Emily nodded. “You’ve got your own family—your husband, your boy. *That’s* your life. The rest? ‘One big family’ my foot—let them do what they want.”
Diana exhaled. “I’ve always stayed quiet. Always let it slide. But not anymore. Next time, I’m standing my ground—manners be damned.”
Outside, the rain still drizzled. But for the first time in ages, something inside Diana felt lighter. Because she’d finally realised: she had every right to peace. To quiet. To her own life—without someone else’s noise barging through the walls.
