THE PESKY NEIGHBOUR
“Miss, could you spare some salt? Forgot to buy any,” said the smiling man on her doorstep. Lucy silently went to the kitchen and scooped some into his jar. When she turned, he was still there, glancing around. “Cosy place youve got,” he remarked. Lucy scowled. “Did I invite you in? No. Take the salt and leave.” He shook his head. “Bit unwelcoming, arent you? We are neighbours, after all.” Lucy strode past him and held the door wider. “Get out. Youre a nuisance.”
The semi-detached house had once belonged to Lucys grandfather. After his passing, an illegitimate daughter suddenly appearedquick-witted and sharp. She brought proof, fought in court, and won two rooms. Rather than live there, she sold them off to some stranger. The rooms were partitioned, a separate entrance added. The stress of it all sent Lucys grandmother to an early grave.
Lucy was fifteen when it happened, old enough to remember everything. Ever since, shed loathed the neighbour. He wasnt the root of her troubles, but she couldnt help blaming him. Her mother had remarried soon after, some pretentious bloke with a flat where Lucy wasnt welcome.
All because of the birthmark staining the right side of Lucys face. The nicknames had been cruel growing up”Patchy” was the kindest. “Shell scare off the neighbours with that face,” she once overheard her stepfather say. After that, she only saw her mother during rare visits.
Lucy wasnt afraid of peopleshe just avoided them. So when her belly rounded and a son was born, the whole street was stunned. Who? No one knew shed begged her old schoolmate, Tom, to father the child. Back then, he wasnt yet a lost causejust desperate enough to agree for a fee. Neither spoke of it. Tom had no reason to boast, and Lucy only cared for her boy.
By the time little James turned five, the old neighbour passed away. A new one arrivedmaybe a nephew, maybe someone else. He renovated his half: an extension, plumbing, gas. Lucy gritted her teeth through the drilling and hammering. Worse, James started sneaking over, sitting quietly, tapping nails into wood. She knew he missed a fathers presence but refused to encourage this friendship.
She tried reasoning with the neighbourUncle Oliver, as James called him. “Let him learn mens work,” Oliver said. “My dad gave me a hammer at three. Dont worry, Ill watch him. Raised my brothers myselfused to it.” Lucy tried keeping James home, but hed sulk like an adult, retreating to a corner in silence. Shed sigh and relent. His eyes would light up as he cheered, “Uncle Oliver, Im coming to help!”
What irked Lucy more was Olivers constant borrowingsalt, matches, sugar. He returned it later, in bulk. At first, she refused, but eventually gave up. He left the bags on her porch anyway. If he had money to waste, shed put it to good use.
One day, she overheard James and Oliver talking. “My mums pretty,” James said, “but Ive no dad. I cant tell her everything.” Lucy held her breath. “Your mums lovely,” Oliver replied. “But shes too proud to let anyone close.” James mused, “I punched Billy Carter. He said Mums mark makes her look like a witch.” Oliver chuckled. “A witch, eh? I meant to sell this place, but after meeting your mum, I couldnt leave.”
Lucy called out, “James! Dinner!” The boy rushed over. “Can Uncle Oliver eat with us?” She glanced at his pleading eyes and muttered, “Fine.”
James fell asleep at the table. Oliver carried him to bed, and Lucy tucked him in. “Tea, or are you leaving?” she asked. Oliver turned. “Both.” Then he kissed her. Her head spun, but she steadied herself. “What do you think youre doing?” He grinned. “Youre all prickles, but whats underneath?” Lucy scoffed. “And this doesnt bother you?” She gestured to her face. “Hardly notice it. I like your fire, your softness. The mark? If it troubles you, its easily fixed.”
Lucy burst into tears. “Do you know how its haunted me? I work from home so no one stares or pities me.” He held her close. “Hope its the least of our worries.” She looked up. “Our?” “Yes,” he said firmly. “And I think its time we made this one home. Ill start tomorrow.”
At last, Lucy exhaled. For the first time, she had a real man beside herone who made her forget the mark entirely. Beauty isnt in the face, but in the hearts depths.
