OUR HOUSE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET
I try to be a good neighbour. I give a hoot, rarely a boot, and people often respond in kind. We swap larger words, then larger sentences, and suddenly we are on first-name terms. With the fences down, you become privy to people’s highs and lows, stories that would otherwise fade in silence.
Our household includes a dog called Bowie. We live a short walk from a bustling park, the reason we bought the Victorian terraced home a year and a half ago. The park is Bowie’s second home. I know most local dog walkers, certainly those from our street, but to my surprise few know each other. Responsible dog walking helps everyone share the space, people and wildlife included [1].
Bella, at the last corner before the gates, knows no one below her number. After a long illness, her paraplegic husband died recently from sepsis. She knows Barda across the road. Barda’s husband is slowly declining with dementia. I see him most days sitting on the wall, smoking, looking vacant. He has stopped washing. He has stopped talking. Until he crashed the car, he would not stop driving. The cracks are showing. He is one fumble away from a bad fall. Support for carers matters as much as treatment for the condition itself [2].
Neither Bella nor Barda knows that the man two doors up, above Mr Cyclops, looks out for me when I walk Bowie at two in the morning. Noah will sometimes catch up and talk about his fantasies. I wear Apple’s bright pride watch band, so he assumes I am safe to talk to. He is bipolar and appears only on a high, which means he does not trouble me often. Bipolar disorder is real and treatable, and care plans help people manage the swings when they come [3].
Mr Cyclops lives on the ground floor with his wife and Boss, their terrier and shih tzu cross. It is hard not to glance at his left eye socket. Some days pollen and dandelion fluff gather there, and my unhelpful brain imagines udon noodles. If it were me, I might wear a patch with a blinking light, useful for picking up Bowie’s poo in long grass at night.
On the next block there is the house with the psychedelic sixties wallpaper. The mother of an eight-year-old boy died after her husband passed away months before. That is what we gathered. The boy was seen running in the street, crying out. It was the first time either Bella or Barda had seen him or heard his voice. He was homeschooled, as I was at his age. They kept to themselves, though their day-glow wallpaper never did. Now the blinds are shut and the colour has gone.
Nearer to us are Tony’s properties, due to be split between two daughters and two nieces. Tony died last week, two days short of ninety-nine. The rent is cheap, but the trade-off is rough. The houses are worn and a few are frankly unsafe. In England, the landlord’s duty to keep homes fit for habitation and to handle repairs is not optional [4].
At the corner, a couple uses while a dealer works the door. At the end of our block, Tony’s place is empty, and the large family next door has grown louder. They keep mallards in a paddling pool. They must have caught them in the park. Wild birds are not pets to be scooped up and penned. Taking or keeping wild birds is against the law without a licence [5].
Next to us, on the top floor, lives Patricia. She loves Patsy Cline loud and throws empty bottles at the ducks while cursing. The ground floor has been vacant since Guillaume disappeared after never paying the rent. He traded under different names. Debt collectors kept knocking because the alias had our address on file. There are steps you can take when bailiffs pursue a debt that is not yours [6].
Across the street, Gertrude’s son has returned from prison and begs to be let in. Only last week it seemed the police took him away. Perhaps it was not too serious. She swore she would never let him in again, and then of course she did. She is a mother. That is her whole story. Tomorrow she will tell me she will run out of things for him to steal and then he will have no reason to return.
I have skipped Mario, a lonely man in his seventies who once sent me a link to his webcam chat so we could talk in private. He has been cool with me since I did not take him up on it. A pity, as his dog Lobo and Bowie loved the park together.
I can see Mick at work, cleaning windows. He was the first to welcome us to the street. He is a proud and friendly JW and a practical businessman. He once broke his back falling from a ladder and switched to long water-fed poles. Avoiding height is the first rule for window cleaning for a reason [7].
Here is what prompted me to write. I stop at the halfway mark where Lee used to live with his partner of twenty years. I did not know he had been forced out until I ran into him this morning. His partner’s daughters had hidden cameras in the house and now accuse him of assaulting their mother, who has dementia. They moved their mother into care and rehomed the four dogs. Lee is broken. Mario said hello for the first time in months because they are good friends and were just setting out in Lee’s van when I asked how he was. If you use cameras at home, remember that filming beyond your boundary brings data protection duties and neighbour rights into play [8].
That is only half of my street, one street among thousands in a town smaller than average, yet it is the quietest street I have lived on. People carry more than we can see. If you meet the dog first, the story often follows. If you meet the story first, offer tea. How is your street doing these days? Reports suggest many of us feel lonelier than we admit, and it shows on our pavements and in our parks [9].
All names are changed for privacy. Every story is true to the best of my knowledge. For anything that sounds like health advice, speak to a professional. If you or a neighbour is struggling with mental health, support is available and it helps to start with trustworthy sources [10].
[1] RSPCA: Walking your dog safely and responsibly
[2] Alzheimer’s Society: Understanding and supporting a person with dementia
[3] NHS: Bipolar disorder overview
[4] Shelter England: Landlord responsibility for repairs and fitness for habitation
[5] Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981 (wild birds protection)
[6] Citizens Advice: Stopping bailiffs if you do not owe the debt
[7] HSE: Working at height whilst window cleaning
[8] ICO: Home CCTV systems and filming beyond your boundary
[9] ONS: Personal well-being and loneliness in Great Britain
[10] Mind: What is bipolar disorder