It is often said that good fences make good neighbours (although by some conservative American judges, that phrase is quoted without the irony which Mr Frost intended). When you live in a flat, I'm not sure what makes a good neighbour. If you know, please tell me, because I suspect that very soon our neighbour downstairs may lose his patience with us.
It began with a flood. The installation of the new dishwasher in the flat did not go entirely well, and resulted in G being woken at 3 in the morning (I was thankfully away for work) by our neighbour, in his pyjamas, reporting that water was flooding through his ceiling, down his light fittings and into his kitchen and dining area. The water was promptly turned off and a plumber called. The plumber, in an impressive display of tact, then tightened a tap, explaining to G that you have to ensure the taps are turned tight before turning a dishwasher on. Apologies were made to the neighbour, a bottle of wine was offered and the disaster was over.
Then G's sister came to stay. We realised there were no curtains in the spare room in which she was to sleep, the window of which faces the street and is visible from the pavement. Thankfully, I craftily was able to piece together some make-do curtains out of two brightly coloured, fraying beach towels and some paper clips. Our neighbour did not complain, notwithstanding the fact that from the street our block of flats now looked like a squat for acid-dropping junkies.
When G's sister left, and we had bookshelves built in the sitting room, our neighbour didn't complain about the two-day long building project which involved banging and sawing that could be heard from one end of the building to the other. When we apologised to the neighbour for the noise, our neighbour simply shrugged, and said that he understood that every now and again renovations had to be undertaken.
Unfortunately, only a week later, when I was happily leaping about the sitting room to an aerobics video, we received a telephone call from our neighbour, who ever so politely told us that my exercise was causing his sitting room ceiling to vibrate and cracks to appear in it. He said that he didn't mind us doing aerobics in one of the (carpeted) bedrooms, but would it be possible for us not to do it on the floorboards in the sitting room, for fear his ceiling may collapse.
It began with a flood. The installation of the new dishwasher in the flat did not go entirely well, and resulted in G being woken at 3 in the morning (I was thankfully away for work) by our neighbour, in his pyjamas, reporting that water was flooding through his ceiling, down his light fittings and into his kitchen and dining area. The water was promptly turned off and a plumber called. The plumber, in an impressive display of tact, then tightened a tap, explaining to G that you have to ensure the taps are turned tight before turning a dishwasher on. Apologies were made to the neighbour, a bottle of wine was offered and the disaster was over.
Then G's sister came to stay. We realised there were no curtains in the spare room in which she was to sleep, the window of which faces the street and is visible from the pavement. Thankfully, I craftily was able to piece together some make-do curtains out of two brightly coloured, fraying beach towels and some paper clips. Our neighbour did not complain, notwithstanding the fact that from the street our block of flats now looked like a squat for acid-dropping junkies.
When G's sister left, and we had bookshelves built in the sitting room, our neighbour didn't complain about the two-day long building project which involved banging and sawing that could be heard from one end of the building to the other. When we apologised to the neighbour for the noise, our neighbour simply shrugged, and said that he understood that every now and again renovations had to be undertaken.
Unfortunately, only a week later, when I was happily leaping about the sitting room to an aerobics video, we received a telephone call from our neighbour, who ever so politely told us that my exercise was causing his sitting room ceiling to vibrate and cracks to appear in it. He said that he didn't mind us doing aerobics in one of the (carpeted) bedrooms, but would it be possible for us not to do it on the floorboards in the sitting room, for fear his ceiling may collapse.
It is just as well our downstairs neighbour appears to be verging on being a saint, because whatever it is that makes good neighbours, we don't have it.
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