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How To Get One Over On The Neighbours

Jane had struggled this week. Seeing the neighbours on the school run, knowing full well they were talking about her behind her back, she tried hard not to grin at them. Living round that area had been getting her down for some time. She was no snob but the neighbours thought that she was. She was simply shy and found it difficult to start conversation. Besides, when she stood at the school gates and overheard the conversations of the women around her, always consisting of gossip about the one person from their group who was absent that day, she didn't really want to be part of the crowd.

She didn't want to be disliked for it either but it didn't matter how hard she tried to make a few individual friends, she still felt she was on the outside. After a year of this, Jane was resigned to the snide looks and comments when she passed the other residents in the street. It didn't worry her anymore and she decided to leave them to think whatever they wanted.

Her husband didn't understand, of course. Men never do. As far as they're concerned you just 'get on with it'. There is no fitting in to be done, you just talk to the others around you. They have no problem doing this because they only have to discuss things like 'did you watch the footie at the weekend', 'do you fancy going to the pub' or 'can I borrow your new motorised toy/lawn mower/ power drill' etc. They really don't give a monkeys what the other is wearing or how clean their home is.

But then, that's the trouble with women. If they can't get an immediate invite in to scrutinise the home and report back to the group, then they will just make assumptions and talk about them instead. And that is what happened with Jane. As I say, she had got used to it now. But today was different. Passing the women on the school run, they used that instinctive way that they have of sniffing out a different air about her. There was no way she was going to divulge to them what was giving her that air - not yet at least. She wanted to savour this moment.

It was around ten o'clock that day when the removal company came round that day for an assessment. She could virtually feel the curtains twitching as she led the men through the house while they decided on a price and van size to move her to her new house. As the men from the removal company left, there was a gaggle of women stood on the corner of the street, pretending to look elsewhere but uselessly straining their heads in her direction just in case they could pick up any snippets of information.

Still keeping the news to herself, Jane banned her husband from telling any of the other husbands what was going on. He didn't understand but it was easier to go along with it than to risk letting it slip out.

When the big day came around, the removal company turned up in their shiniest lorry making it crystal clear they were no cowboy company. They had already been briefed about packing arrangements and were under strict instructions not to leave anything on show. She knew these women wanted to know everything about her possessions so they could pick them all apart but there was no way she was going to give them the satisfaction.

Once her entire life was packed into the lorry, Jane went outside and approached the women who had congregated. Being confronted like this unnerved them and they were suddenly all fake smiles and sickly niceness. Which made it all the more sweeter to watch them struggle when she informed them of her multi million pound lottery win and if they wanted to visit her in her mansion across town they were quite welcome.

Following the removal company down the road, she waved to the old gossips on the corner knowing full well she would never have to see them again.

About the Author

Expert socialite Catherine Harvey looks at the way a removal company create a good impression.

Author Profile: sparta

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