It had been a fortnight since Id last visited my little plot in the countryside, just outside the bustle of London. The place never served as a vegetable patch for me; I never had the patience for gardening. Instead, I used it as a peaceful retreat somewhere I could light the barbecue, relax under the shelter of my wooden pergola, and escape the endless noise of the city. Id half a mind to put up a fence soon, just to mark my space a bit better.
This lazy Saturday, I drove out with a pack of Cumberland sausages, intent on nothing more than a bit of grilling and quiet. My neighbours were generally fine mostly kept to themselves but one, in particular, had a knack for getting under my skin. Her name was Harriet, and she was obsessed with plants. Across the lane, her own garden was a wild mess of seedlings and blooms she seemed to spend every waking hour up to her elbows in soil.
With no boundary yet between our plots, Harriet sometimes wandered over unannounced. I never liked that. More than once, Id arrive to find her nosing around, inspecting the empty beds and lawn as if they were hers.
One afternoon, I caught her at it again. Is something wrong? I asked, trying not to sound irritable.
Oh, not at all. I was just thinking, youve so much space going to waste here. You dont mind if I plant some onions, do you? Seems a shame to let these beds sit empty, she said, giving me that look.
I was so taken aback, for a moment I couldnt find my words. I didnt want to offend her. After a pause, I managed, Er you can have a go at one bed if you really like.
The more I thought about it, though, the more it grated on me. That afternoon, she pranced about for hours, rearranging the soil, leaving me no peace at all. Her constant presence put me on edge.
Soon after, I went off to Brighton for my holiday by the sea. When I returned, eager for a pint of calm and my familiar grilling spot, I found to my horror that shed erected an entire greenhouse right in the middle of my land, with neat rows of cucumbers and tomatoes planted everywhere.
I knew instantly who was responsible. Furious, I called my mate James. We popped over to the hardware store, picked up some mesh fencing, and spent the evening fencing off my plot so Harriet couldnt wander in at her will.
Come the next weekend, Harriet marched over, eyes wide. Whyve you put a fence up? Now I cant reach my seedlings! Are you going to look after them yourself, then?
The cheek of it was staggering. That evening, I took down the greenhouse and tossed the lot frame, tools and all over the fence onto her side. Since that day, Harriet hasnt so much as glanced my way, let alone offered a cheery greeting.
Fine by me. With the fence up, I finally had the peace Id always wanted.
