It has been a fortnight since I last visited my garden retreat, and in that time, the neighbours had erected a greenhouse on my plot, planting cucumbers and tomatoes.
I owned a small piece of land just beyond the bustle of the town. I never saw fit to cultivate anything there; my visits were solely for leisure, a haven to escape the daily commotion. The thought of spending my spare time digging and weeding simply didnt appeal to me. Instead, Id put up a barbecue and a wooden gazebo where I could sit sheltered from an unexpected downpour. Only recently had I decided it was high time to put up a fence around my little haven.
One particular day, I beat a retreat there, sausages in hand, seeking solace from the clamour of the city. The neighbours were, for the most part, unremarkableneither intrusive nor overly chatty. One lady in particular, however, had a habit of setting my nerves on edge. She would often wonder aloud how I survived without any plants at all. Across the lane, her garden was crammed with every sort of cutting and flower imaginable. She busied herself among them for days on end, absolutely devoted.
With no barrier between our gardens yet, she would occasionally wander over, breezing in without the faintest embarrassment. I must admit, I was never comfortable with this. There were times when Id arrive to find her strolling about, inspecting things as if it were her own.
One such occasion, I addressed her directly:
Well, is there something amiss?
Oh, not at all, she replied. I was just considering where one might plant some onions. Youve so much free soil here and not a sprig in sight. I daresay, you wouldnt mind me planting a few bits and bobs, would you?
At her forwardness, I was quite taken aback. Not wishing to offend her, I thought for a moment before responding,
You may have a go at a single bed, if you like.
As it turned out, I regretted my concession. She spent half the day prancing about on my allotment, making relaxation quite impossible. Her presence was altogether unsettling.
Soon after, I took off for a holiday at the seaside. On my return, the first thing I did that weekend was visit my garden. Imagine my astonishment upon discovering, not only a greenhouse smack in the middle of my plot, but also several fresh beds brimming with cucumbers and tomatoes.
I had no need to ask who was responsibleI knew at once. Irked, I resolved to act. I rang up my friend; together, that very day, we made our way to the local hardware shop and purchased some netting with which to fence off my land. From then on, my neighbour could no longer come and go as she pleased.
The following weekend, she appeared, demanding,
Why ever have you put up a fence? Now I cant tend my seedlings. Or do you mean to look after them yourself?
The cheek of it almost floored me. That evening, I dismantled the greenhouse and tossed the pieces over the fence. She hasnt so much as nodded in my direction since.
