Chapter 60
NOW
As a person who has experienced her fair share of painful emotions, I speak with some authority when I say that you’d be hard-pressed to find a more painful emotion than humiliation. With my neighbors gathered in front of my vandalized house, I fight the urge to shoo them away like stray cats.
I’ve always taken pride in being a good neighbor.
A low-maintenance neighbor. A neighbor who said good morning, who kept the garden presentable, who even—on one occasion—scaled a fence in a rescue effort.
I’d kept my head down and my nose out of trouble.
It was in my interests to do this, of course, to maintain my anonymity.
But now it appeared that both my anonymity and my status as a low-maintenance neighbor were under threat.
“It’ll be kids,” Peter declares. “They watch too much rubbish on those devices these days. They need to play more sport, that’s the problem.”
“I hate sport.” Persephone scrunches up her nose. “Too sweaty.”
Peter nods sagely, as if this proves his point.
“Yes, just kids mucking about,” Roxanne says. “We’re lucky it didn’t happen to the whole street.”
Odd people. They all know very well it’s not kids who’ve watched too many screens and it’s not a random act of vandalism. Perhaps they’ve all gone mad?
“I’ve got some turps somewhere, Else,” Peter says. “I’ll clean it up for you.”
“Nonsense,” I tell him. “I’ll do it.”
“It’s no trouble,” he says. “Joan will help, won’t you?”
She nods enthusiastically.
Knock me down with a feather.
“Probably worth speaking to the police, anyway,” Roxanne says. “I can come with you, if you like.”
I’m touched by the generosity of my neighbors, especially as it’s clear to everyone that this isn’t going away. If anything, interest is growing. Which means, more than likely, there will be a next time.
The neighbors don’t deserve to have their lives upended like this. All of these people, my neighbors, deserve to be safe. And as long as I live on Kenny Lane, I am putting all of them at risk.