Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Bad neighbours

from Private Eye.

Since my nearest and dearest have vetoed writing about them here, I'm compelled to write about the neighbours, who will surely never read this and probably wouldn't care.

This is a story about mad Gladys, who lives upstairs. She is Welsh, maybe in her eighties, has lived here for 50 years, about 4 foot tall, always wears green, with a long black ponytail (though not much hair on top of her head). When in her cups (quite often) she stands on the balcony singing the Welsh national anthem and Tom Jones songs for the amusement of the neighbourhood.

Last winter L found her crying out on the street, and brought her in for a cup of tea. A member of the mad ASBO family upstairs had threatened to carve her up with a knife and she was in a state.

In between singing the Welsh national anthem and a freeform version of "I will always love you" her life story emerges. Came to London at age 14 to work as a maid, 7 kids who've all scattered to the winds, a no-good husband, cleaning work until retirement...

Now she's scared of her neighbours, who are always trying to tap her for money, and won't leave the house because of agoraphobia. We advised her to tell the police. She has, she said. They laughed and told her to "have a cup of tea and go to bed". "Why would I have a cup of tea and go to bed? Tea keeps you awake." she says logically.

L escorts her home and finds the place immaculately clean. Gladys insists on showing her the fridge, which is filled to the brim with Special Brew. It turns out her phone has been cut off by BT for making nuisance calls - she kept dialling 999 every time they hassled her. So we write some letters. To the local MP, the local councillors, the chief of police, BT, the social services. Her phone is re-connected and the police visit.

She puts an envelope with £100 through our door, which I return early in the morning before she can nab me. The Asbo family quieten down a little. But I feel guilty - she's on her own, and I don't visit her, because I don't want to get drawn into the world of mad Gladys.

7 comments:

Adrian said...

When in her cups .. What does that mean?

You're a kinder sole than me. I don't deal well with those things.

Annie said...

in her cups = pissed.

No, not really kind Adrian - I am a Bad Neighbour.

neena maiya (guyana gyal) said...

We have many mad Gladyses here. Some of are mad without even a drink.

In fact, everybody here thinks the other is a mad Gladys :-D

You did quite a lot for her, I think. You can't 'save' her.

DCveR said...

Sometimes is easier to help a complete stranger than a neighbor who knows where our door is and can come back for more in the most inappropriate moments.
That is why sometimes we all aren't as good neighbors as we should.
But you surely are not the worst neighbor mad Gladys could have.

Adrian said...

You still helped her. I shy away from drunk old people.

Annie said...

Good point Dcver, that's exactly why I don't want to get too close. Adrian, this is just what my flatmate and I said when she left. GG - we all have a little mad Gladys in us, which is probably why we should look out for them...

neena maiya (guyana gyal) said...

Haha, Annie, I'm now seeing the Latin Primer hahahaha...

For some reason I think you're a good gal, Annie, and that's why you're so bothered.