Good Neighbours

I'm munching cookies and listening to James Taylor's New Moon Shine. I've never updated this blog twice in one day, but there is a first time for everything.

I just got back the police station. Someone tried to break into my neighbour's house on Saturday afternoon while she was sleeping. He made a hole in ceiling of three rooms - first the bathroom, then two of the bedrooms, to see if he could find some purchase, something on which to jump on. Our ceilings tend to be a little high here.

She heard the noise but as is the way of terrace houses, thought it was coming from one of the neighbours. Maybe us. Maybe my father was up to something, knocking and hammering away.

She continued to sleep, but whatever was happening sounded too close to home. It couldn't be my father. When she came out of her room and investigated, she discovered the holes in the ceiling.

Oh My Gawd!

She let out a screech that should have roused the dead. Unfortunately, the two neighbours on either side (my Dad and the old nosey woman on the other side) were fast asleep and they failed to hear anything. Neither, apparently did our two dogs. The rest of us weren't there.

She ran to the kitchen in time to see the man leap off the roof and run to the park behind. As it is the Raya holidays, she couldn't get the holes fixed.

The neighbour lady, whose name I still don't know, was telling me this, as I went out to let Arnold out for a bit after his lunch. I can't let Maggot out as that white dog tends to not come back when let out. We don't know if he's being naughty or if he's simply lost his way.

I asked her if she had made a report. She said no. She was too scared to leave the house on Saturday. I said, no, you have to make a report, if only so the police can have it on record. I'll take you.

She was surprised. She hadn't even thought to ask me for help, even though I obviously do have a car. And I felt a little sad that neighbourliness was such a thing of the past. I mean, neighbours can be nosey now as they were then, but they won't be helpful. Each of us in our little teflon pods, not bothering to get involved, not caring.

So I had a quick shower and off we went. She kept talking, words pouring out over each other on the short drive there. How nervous she was, how all alone, how scared.

(I have written elsewhere in other pages about wishing I had been a better neighbour to her and I was glad that finally I was given a chance to make good on my words)

We got to the police station and this nice well-fed policewoman took down our report. She was a little brusque to begin with but she softened up and at the end she was actually smiling. I think she could feel for this lonely woman, living alone, three holes in the roof, so scared. We got the number of the police station, as well as the number of the HQ...so my neighbour could call at once if there was any more disturbance (she hadn't known what number to call before) to get one of the patrol cars come to her house. It's not much, but it's something.

Then I wrote down our house number, Dadda's mobile, my mobile.

As we were driving back, she offered to pay for the parking (it was a princely sum of 60 sen) and for my petrol. I shushed her and told her to pin those numbers up "big big" on her bedroom wall. And said, next time you need a lift to the police station, don't be shy to ask. After all, we have cars. (I was remembering all of December when I didn't and how awkward that had been).

She told me she had been a tailor before. She tailored clothes for Japanese clients and then her clientele had dried up as the ladies moved back to Japan with their husbands. And besides, she was getting old and her eyesight wasn't what it was before. And then she started babysitting. And now she wondered how long that would last. What with all these disturbances.

She's a good neighbour. Unfailingly pleasant and cheerful. Good neighbours are rare.

I suggested she get a dog but she said that would limit her movements tremendously. After all, a dog needs to be fed, walked and cared for daily. Even if it's just a guard dog. (Personally I think if she did get a dog she would get attached to it and not mind the other stuff so much, but I shall not be a dog proselytizer on the strength of my Arnold boy, who's sleeping near me, content after his meal, with his little cone encircling his head).

Anyway, I was glad I got to help. And I was glad that she agreed to be helped. And I was glad that the policewoman turned out to be so nice.