Our neighbours have decided to show us whos boss in the house. And, honestly, for no reason at all.
Its five years ago. My husband and I already had two children then, and our whole family was squeezed into a tiny single bedroom. Naturally, we were desperate for more space, though for a long time, that need was only ever a subject of conversation.
But when we learned I was expecting a third child, it became urgent to find somewhere bigger. The only way forward was to sell our current flat and add some savings, hoping that would get us a three-bedroom somewhere, even if it meant moving to the edge of town.
Thats exactly what we did. After selling our one-bedroom flat, we managed to buy a highly sought-after three-bed in an old Victorian terrace. The place had already been beautifully renovated, so all we needed to do was move our furniture in.
Life seemed wonderful for a brief momentuntil our upstairs neighbours decided to form a sort of alliance, apparently determined to show us they ruled the building.
We were constantly harassed with a string of complaints and petty grievances.
Why were the front doors left open for so long?
“We were moving things in, so of course we had to leave the doors open for a bit.”
Why are you parking your car under my window?
“Im parking beneath my own window. Im on the first floor; your windows are upstairs. Theres nothing I can do about that.”
Another complaint really got to me:
When your children come back from nursery, they run riot. Its bothering me! And those cartoons you put on for them when they come home.
But how could the kids bother you? Youre living above us. How would noise travel up?
The final straw was when the neighbours decided to create a scene with my pregnant wife while I was away at work. Shes due to give birth in just a month. They came round in the afternoon, while she was home alone, and started shouting and complaining.
Weve come to talk.
What about?
Your husband, when he went out for a cigarette, let a strange man into the building who then went flat to flat offering to copy intercom keys.
My husband doesnt smoke (and I truly never have). They added, If that man copies the keys, hell be able to get in whenever he likes!
When I got home and heard what had gone on, I marched straight up to the neighbours and very firmlyand not too politelytold them theyd better not do that again.
After that incident, life quietened down. We started getting on with the neighbours, even though they stopped saying hello to us.
