
We have never had much luck with neighbours.
Over the years and several moves, we have encountered many varieties of neighbours. We have seen everything from outright war about boundary lines to complaints about overhanging trees, parking places and noisy children.
The perfect neighbours, I think, are the quiet ones. The ones who might say good morning or mention the weather and keep themselves to themselves.
Of course, good neighbours are worth their weight in gold, but unfortunately, we haven’t found many of those. Once, we did move next door to people we knew, but they moved out shortly afterwards. And no, it wasn’t because of us; they had been planning it for a while. At least that was their story!
We have had a problem with our current neighbours for the last year. On the one side, we have constantly screaming kids, accompanied by equally noisy parents who screamed back. I suppose that is one way of handling it! The father fancies himself as a drummer, so when he’s not yelling his head off, he’s drumming on every surface!
On the other side, the people were quiet, but their large dog would cry like a child every time they left him, and this happened a lot. This was the saddest sound I have ever heard in my life, and after weeks of this, I was so depressed. We were on the verge of complaining, for the dog’s sake, mind you, when they moved out.
The new neighbours, however, couldn’t be more different. A father and young daughter, not sure if there is a wife, are quiet. We welcomed them to the neighbourhood, and the father was polite, if a little mysterious.
We are always curious about people until we get to know them, so when the father left the house wearing a rucksack, we were a little wary when we saw a hammer sticking out of the top.
Of course, alarm bells rang in my head. Well, I write mystery thrillers!
Could we be living next door to a serial killer?

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