THE PESKY NEIGHBOUR
“Housewife, could you spare some salt? I forgot to buy any,” said the smiling man at her doorstep. Eleanor said nothing but went to the kitchen and poured some into his jar. When she turned, he was still there, glancing around. “Youve made it quite cosy here,” he remarked. Eleanor bristled. “Did I invite you in? No. Take your salt and leave.” He shook his head. “How inhospitable. We are neighbours, after all.” She strode past him and held the door wide. “Leave. Youre a nuisance.”
This two-flat house had once belonged to Eleanors grandfather. After his passing, an illegitimate daughter suddenly appeareda sharp woman who brought proof and claimed two rooms through the courts. She might have moved in, but instead sold them to a stranger. The rooms were partitioned, given a separate entrance. The strain of it all hastened her grandmothers departure from this world.
Eleanor was fifteen when it happened, old enough to remember every detail. Since then, shed despised the neighbourthough he wasnt the root of her troubles, she couldnt help it. Her mother had remarried soon after, wedding some fool with a flat where Eleanor wasnt welcome.
And why? Because Eleanor had carried a burden since childhooda large birthmark covering the right side of her face. The taunts had been endless: “Patch-face,” the kindest among them. Her stepfather made it clear she was unwanted. “Shell frighten the neighbours with that face,” she once overheard, and from then on, she saw her mother only when she visited.
Eleanor wasnt afraid of people, but she kept out of sight. So when her belly swelled and a son was born, the village was stunned. Who? No one knew how shed begged her old schoolmate, Thomas, to father the child. He, not yet fully lost to drink, agreedfor a price. No one ever found out. Thomas had no reason to boast, and Eleanor cared only for her boy.
When little Edward was five, the old neighbour passed. A new one arriveda nephew, perhapsand set about fixing up his half of the house. Extensions, plumbing, gas. Eleanor bore it all with gritted teeth. The drilling, the hammering. Worse still, Edward took to running over there, sitting quietly as he banged nails into wood. She knew he missed a fathers presence, but she couldnt bring herself to encourage the friendship.
She tried speaking to the neighbourUncle Oliver, as Edward called himbut he only said, “Let him learn mens work. My father gave me a hammer at three. Dont fret; Ill watch him. Raised my brothers myself, so Im used to it.” Eleanor tried keeping Edward home, but the boy sulked like a man, retreating to a corner in silence. With a sigh, shed relent, and his face would light up as he cried, “Uncle Oliver, Im coming to help!”
What irked her more was Olivers constant borrowingsalt, matches, sugar. He always repaid in full, leaving packages on her step. At first, she refused them, but eventually gave up. If the man had money to burn, shed put it to use.
Then one day, she overheard Edward and Oliver talking. “Mums pretty, but Ive no dad,” Edward said. “Cant tell her everything.” Eleanor held her breath. “Aye, Ed, your mums a beauty,” Oliver replied. “But shes too proud to let anyone close.” Edward mused, “I thumped Peter Wilkins. Said Mums mark made her a witch.” Oliver laughed. “A witch, indeed. I meant to sell this place, but when I saw your mother, I couldnt leave.”
Eleanor listened no further. “Edward! Supper!” she called. The boy scampered over. “Can Uncle Oliver eat with us?” She met his pleading eyes and muttered, “Fine.”
Edward fell asleep at the table, and Oliver carried him gently to bed. Eleanor tucked him in, then asked, “Tea, or are you going home?” Oliver turned to her. “Both.” And he kissed her. Her head spun, but she steadied herself. “What do you think youre doing?” He smiled. “Youre like a prickly hedgehog. What if you let the spines down?” She gave a wry smile. “And this doesnt bother you?” She touched her face. “I dont see it. I like your stubbornness, your kindness. The mark? If it troubles you, it can be gone.”
Eleanor burst into tears. “Do you know how its haunted me? I work from home so no one stares or pities me.” He pulled her close. “Let it be the smallest trouble in our lives.” She looked up. “Our lives?” “Aye,” he said firmly. “And I think its time we made one house of these two. Ill start tomorrow.” At last, Eleanor breathed easy. Here was a true man beside her. The mark no longer shamed herfor beauty isnt in the face, but in the soul beneath.
