My Neighbours Are Stealing My Mail

by Ian Edwards

‘Fairs fair,’ Alan said. ‘It’s a really hot day, and if you had air conditioning we wouldn’t have needed to open the window in the first place.’

  ‘We’ve got air con,’ Gary pointed at the ceiling.

  Alan, James and Frankie looked up at the ceiling where a ceiling fan slowly turned.

  ‘That’s your air conditioning?’

  ‘State of the art, that,’ Gary said proudly.

  All four looked up again as the ancient cobweb laden wooden propeller continued its languid circular journey.

  ‘Maybe,’ James said. ‘If you got rid of all the cobwebs, it might go a bit quicker and create a slight breeze?’

  Gary poked the end of his broom at the propeller, bringing down several spiders and a light mist of cobwebs.

  James took the broom from him. ‘Shall I have a go? I’m a lot taller than you.’

  ‘No! Don’t you touch anything,’ Gary snatched the broom back. ‘You’ve caused enough trouble today already.’

  *

  Alan and Frankie sat at the table and stared through the gap where the window used to be. Occasionally someone would poke their head through the gap and have a look around. Once they had taken in the general squalor and grimness of the place they quickly backed out and headed home for a shower.

  ‘I’ll say this about James,’ Frankie mused. ‘When he opens a window, it stays open.’

  Alan nodded. ‘Agreed. He is the ultimate professional. Sliding the window up is never enough for him. No, he doesn’t stop until the whole frame’s been pulled out and piled in bits around his feet.’

  ‘It’s a lot cooler now that the window’s open,’ James said as he placed two pints of beer on the table.

  ‘Yeah, thanks for sorting that out. Did Gary give you a hard time?’ Alan asked.

  James sat down between Alan and Frankie. ‘He’s fine. I bought him a couple of drinks and he hardly mentioned it.’ James took a mouthful of beer. ‘Well at first he was a bit cross, but then he got onto the quiz night and completely forgot about the window.’

  ‘What quiz night?’ Frankie asked.

  Alan turned to Frankie and briefly explained that the Cloven Hoof was organising its first ever quiz night.

  James fished a folded sheet of A4 paper out of his pocket and passed it to Alan. ‘Gary gave me this. It’s got all the details on it.’

  Alan unfolded the flyer, casting his eye over the details. ‘It’s next week…’

  ‘Thursday,’ James added.

  ‘Teams of up to four people will compete for a first prize of £100.00.’

  ‘We can win this,’ James announced confidently and downed half of his pint in one go.

  Frankie pulled a face. ‘Really? You and that bloke? I seriously doubt it.’

  ‘Frankie’s a doubter,’ Alan said to James. ‘He doesn’t know about our secret weapon.’

  ‘Time to tell him?’

  ‘What secret weapon?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘You.’

  Frankie stared between Alan and James. When no answer was forthcoming, he sighed. ‘OK, what do you want me to do?’

  Alan pulled his chair closer to the table and lowered his voice. ‘It’s actually dead simple.’

  James giggled while Frankie just stared. ‘Go on.’

  ‘When they’re asking the questions you,’ he nodded at Frankie, ’have a look at the answers and then come down and tell us. And we clean up. Simple.’

  ‘So you’re asking me to help you cheat?’

  ‘Frankie thinks it’s cheating,’ Alan told James.

  ‘Actually it’s not cheating,’ James said, turning to where he assumed Frankie was sitting. ‘We’re just being creative with the resources available to us.’

  Frankie scratched his nose. ‘OK, I’ll do it.’ The girls don’t stand a chance with you two idiots getting everything wrong.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Alan turned to James. ‘He’ll do it.’

  ‘Cheers Frankie.’ James raised his pint glass to the empty chair.

  Alan frowned. ‘Hang on. What makes you think we would be in a team with Rosie and Amy?’

  Frankie shrugged. ‘It says teams of four. I would have thought it was obvious.’

  ‘If we’ve got Frankie, we don’t need the girls,’ James dabbed the paper on the table. 'It says teams of up to four.’

  ‘And we get to keep the prize money rather than split it between the four of us,’ Alan pointed out.

  James nodded. ‘Brilliant.’

  Alan stood up. ‘Right, I’ll go and sign us up.’ He gestured at James’s empty glass. ‘Same again?’

  *

  Frankie sat opposite James and smirked as he watched him attempt to hold a conversation with an empty chair to his left.

  ‘So you see, I reckon that even if you didn’t help us, we’d probably win anyway.’ James paused, allowing, he thought, sufficient time for Frankie to respond. ‘Everyone knows pub quizzes ask the same questions. Who lives at 11 Downing Street, who won X-Factor last year, what’s the point of The Great British Bake Off, and the rest of the questions are always about football.’

  Frankie sighed loudly, knowing James wouldn’t hear him.

  ‘And that’s not forgetting my specialist subject. Music. All music.’

  James lent back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. ‘Rock, pop, reggae, even folk. I’m a safe pair of hands on the music round. Except Abba. Can’t stand Abba.’

  ‘What’s wrong with Abba?’ Alan asked, appearing at the table with a couple of pints.

  ‘You took your time,’ Frankie whined. ‘He’s been going on about winning the quiz single handed. He thinks we’re having a conversation.’

  James took one of the pints that had been placed on the table. ‘I’ve been telling Frankie about my extensive general knowledge. It’s perfect for a pub quiz. I think we’ve been getting on quite well.’

  Frankie rolled his eyes.

  ‘We’re in,’ Alan told them as he sat back down. ‘I’ve paid the ten quid entry fee. You owe me five quid by the way. Gary’s really excited about it. He reckons there’s going to be a massive turn out.’

  ‘Really?’ James nodded, impressed.

  Alan nodded. ‘That’s what he thinks.’

  ‘How many teams are taking part?’

  ‘Well there’s us and Boris has put in a team.’

  ‘Who’s Boris?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘Bad Boris,’ Alan stood up and gestured in the direction of the bar. ‘There he is now.’

  James and Frankie looked over at the bar where a figure wearing a heavy greatcoat and furry hat sat alone at a table with only a glass and bottle of Vodka for company.

  ‘That’s Boris?’ Frankie asked. ‘Is he Russian by any chance?’

  Alan shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. I’ve never spoken to him. James, is Boris Russian?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue. Why?’

  ‘Frankie wanted to know.’

  ‘Sorry Frankie,’ James said to an empty chair. ‘I’ve never spoken to him.’

  Frankie sat back in his chair. ’So you’ve entered a quiz where you plan on cheating using a ghost, and your only opposition is a possibly Russian man who you’ve never spoken to.’

  Alan grinned. ‘I know. It’s perfect.’

  *

  Rosie looked up from the sofa. ‘I didn’t expect you home this early. Has the Cloven Hoof finally been condemned as a bio-hazard and shut down?’

  Alan grimaced. He considered Rosie’s contempt for the Cloven Hoof was completely misplaced. She had only visited it once and not stayed long enough to appreciate its quirky traditional appeal.

  ‘Actually they’ve just had some state of the art ventilation installed, so it was very comfortable in there tonight.’ He gazed at the wall clock which said 11.10. ‘Anyway, James had to leave early as he was going on about having to work tomorrow.’

  Rosie sighed. ‘That’s the trouble when you have a real job. You have to be a sensible grown up and go home early to get some s
leep.’

  Alan refused to be drawn into a debate about work, instead he offered Rosie a cup of tea and headed out to the kitchen.

  ‘I spoke to Joy earlier,’ Rosie said following him into the kitchen.

  Alan flicked the switch on the kettle. ‘Who?’

  ‘Next door.’

  ‘Oh right. Did she bring my post back?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Her and Dawn have invited us over for drinks on Saturday evening.’

  Alan poured boiling water into two mugs. ‘Do we have to? Can’t you just tell them we’re on holiday or something?’

  ‘We live next door. What do you suggest we do, hide indoors for a week and pretend we’ve been away?’

  Alan nodded. ‘Sounds like a plan. We’ll stock up on food and DVDs. Enough for a week. We’ll have to be quiet though, we can’t make any noise.’ He laughed. ‘It’ll be like one of those submarine films. Silent Running. It’s all going well until someone drops a spanner. Because it’s always a spanner. You don’t have any spanners do you?’

  ‘Unfortunately not,’ Rosie smiled.

  ‘We should be fine then.’

  ‘Alan!’ Rosie barked. ‘Are you coming with me or am I going on my own?’

  He passed Rosie a mug of tea. ‘OK, I’ll come. I suppose it’ll give me a chance to have a poke around. You know, try and find my mail.’

  ‘Don’t you even think about it, Mister.’

  Alan smirked, delved into his pockets for his phone, wallet and a folded sheet of paper, and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘What’s this?’ Rosie asked, unfolding the paper.

  ‘Oh that’s from the Hoof. They’re having a quiz night. James and I entered.’

  ‘It says here that there’s a £100 prize for the winners.’

  Alan nodded. ‘We’re going to clean up. The Undisputed Cloven Hood Quiz Champions.’

  Rosie sat down at the table. ‘The teams can be up to four people. Amy and I can help you out.’

  ‘No, it’s OK. We’ll be fine, thanks.’

  ‘Are you sure? You and James aren’t the brightest stars in the sky. I can’t remember the last time you watched the news, and if there aren’t any questions about the Beatles, James is screwed.’

  ‘You underestimate us, my dear. We’re full of surprises.’

  ‘Well,’ Rosie leaned back in her chair. ‘If you don’t want our help, we’ll enter the quiz on our own. Take you on. Girls against boys.’

  Alan frowned. ‘Are you sure? It’s in the Hoof. You hate the Hoof.’

  ‘What’s the matter, afraid the girls will embarrass you in front of your friends?’ Rosie grinned, clearly enjoying herself.

  Alan held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘No, not at all. In fact I’m looking forward to it.’

  Rosie stood up. ‘Right. I’m off to bed now. I suggest you stay up for a bit longer and do some revision. You could read the backs of the cereal packets. They usually have lists of general knowledge facts,’ Rosie paused for a moment. ‘For children,’ she grinned.

  Alan gave her a cheery wave and finished his tea. Let her be smug. With Frankie as their secret weapon, he and James couldn’t possibly fail.

  Chapter 17

  ‘My arms, I can’t move my arms,’ Jayne moaned.

  Rosie looked across the table at her sister. ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t move my arms. They’re hurting so much.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I think I’ve lost the use of them.’

  ‘In that case would you like me to get you a straw for that?’ Rosie gestured at the glass of fruit juice on the table.

  Jayne pulled a pained face. ‘Would you mind?’

  Rosie sighed and twisted round so that she could reach the counter and take a handful of straws. ‘There you go,’ she said, dropping a straw into Jayne’s glass.

  ‘Thanks.’ Jayne titled her head and sucked up her drink.

  Rosie looked at her sister. ‘Was it worth it then?’

  ‘Was what worth it?’ Jayne asked angelically.

  ‘An hour of this ridiculous Super Body Pump Step Class.’ Rosie sipped at her fruit juice and looked over to an adjacent table. ‘Just so that you could watch him posing in his vest.’

  Jayne followed her sister’s gaze. ‘Who. Troy?’

  Rosie frowned. ‘You know exactly who I mean.’

  Jayne sneaked a glance at the fitness instructor over. ‘Nice isn’t he?’

  ‘Are you serious? He’s got unnaturally black hair for a man of his age, unnaturally white teeth for a man of his age and unnaturally big arms for a man of any age.’

  Jayne sighed. ‘I know…great isn’t he?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘Not really, no. Look, you’ve joined all his classes, you stare at him like a dog stares at bacon, and now you tried impressing him by using ridiculously heavy weights and now you can’t use your arms. Why don’t you just talk to him?’

  ‘Did you just call me a dog?’ Jayne grinned mischievously.

  ‘Covered in hair and whiskers? Yep.’ Rosie grinned in return.

  Jayne winced as she tried and failed to reach for her glass.

  ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting a lift home….’ Rosie asked.

  ‘Hi girls, enjoy the class?’ Troy asked, appearing at their table.

  Rosie sneered at the preening mound of muscle to her left. ‘It was OK,’ she said, non- committedly.

  Troy ignored the stroppy sister and focused his attention on the one he knew drooled over him in class. ‘What about you Jayney? Enjoy the work-out?’

  ‘I did…Yes…Thank you Troy.’ Jayne gushed.

  ‘Excellent. Are you coming along to my new Aqua Boxercise Circuit class on Monday night?’

  ‘Oh yes definitely,’ Jayne smiled back at him, a little too keenly, Rosie thought.

  ‘That’s cool. See you then.’ He shot her another cheesy smile and sloped off.

  Jayne watched him as he moved across the bar to engage an attractive blonde woman in conversation.

  ‘Anyway,’ Rosie said, keen to move the conversation away from the unnatural Troy. ‘There’s a quiz night at Alan’s local pub next Thursday. Do you fancy taking on the boys with me?’

  ‘Ooh, that sounds like fun,’ Jayne smiled. ‘Girl power?’

  ‘Definitely. He’s so irritatingly confident he and James are going to win that he declined my offer of help.’

  ‘So you’ve taken it as a challenge – to beat the boys?’

  ‘You bet. Amy’s already agreed to join me. She said that James has been walking around the house singing We Are The Champions.’

  Jayne leaned in closer. ‘I’ve an idea. Maybe we could ask Troy to join the team.’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Why is that? He’s a fitness professional. He has to be very highly qualified, and he will know all the sports questions.’

  ‘Well,’ Rosie said. ‘Take a look at him now.’ She nodded at the glass double doors. ‘He’s currently pushing the doors to get out.’

  Jayne frowned. ‘And…your point is?’

  ‘There’s a great big sign in front of him that says Pull.’

  ‘Fair point.’ Jayne sighed, tipped her head forward and slurped her fruit juice.

  *

  ‘She’s only just out of school. It’s just not right.’

  Jayne sighed and stared at the few drops left at the bottom of her glass.

  Undeterred by her sister’s indifference Rosie continued. ‘I love Harry dearly and I desperately want him to be happy. But,’ she paused. ‘I just don’t trust her.’

  ‘Is that because she’s so young?’ Alison asked.

  ‘What does a girl her age see in a man Harry’s age?’

  Jayne listened as Rosie continued to moan to Alison. She had no doubts that their friend was regretting joining them at the bar after finishing her own exercise class, but was too nice to tell Rosie to shut up.

  ‘Love is blind?’ Alison suggested tentatively.

  ‘Well I think she’s a
scheming minx,’ Rosie huffed and sat back in her chair.

  ‘How’s life at the council?’ Jayne asked Alison in an effort to change the subject. ‘Are you still putting in the long hours?’

  Alison laughed. ‘I’m certainly chained to my desk a lot these days. My boss is trying to twin the town with somewhere exotic and he’s involved with the refurbishment of the theatre.’

  ‘Do you know what I think?’ Rosie interrupted. ‘I think she’s after his house.’

  Jayne frowned. ‘Sorry. I’m not with you.’

  ‘After his house,’ Alison repeated.

  ‘Yes. It’s obvious now I come to think about it. I’m surprised it took me this long to work it out.’

  Jayne put her hands on the table and clenched her fists several times. ‘I think I’m getting the use of my arms back.’

  ‘What’s wrong with your arms?’ Alison asked.

  ‘She overdid it trying to impress the instructor.’ Rosie explained. ‘Now do you want to hear my theory?’

  Jayne made a fist and did an arm curl. ‘Go on then.’

  ‘Well, Harry has a large house in Fulham. Most of the similar houses in the area have been converted to flats, but he’s not interested in selling.’

  ‘Why?’ Alison asked. ‘He must be sitting on a gold mine.’

  ‘It was his family home. Sentimental ties,’ Rosie explained. ‘Anyway, the trollop knows this and is worming her way into his affections to get his house.’

  Alison and Jayne stared blankly at her.

  ‘In a few months they’ll get engaged, then married quite quickly, then she’ll want a divorce and half the house. See, she’s got it all worked out.’

  Jayne frowned. ‘Well you’ve certainly got it all worked out, but I’m not sure Katherine has.’

  Alison turned to Jayne. ‘This Katherine, she sounds horrible. Is she really that bad?’

  ‘Oh no. She’s lovely. Young, pretty, seems to be very fond of Harry and works with disadvantaged children.’

  ‘She’s a scheming minx,’ Rosie blurted out.

  Alison nodded. ‘So she’s a young pretty scheming minx?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Rosie agreed. ‘Harry just can’t see it. He’s had his turned by a pretty face. I’ve asked Alan to have a word with him, see if he can talk some sense into him.’

  ‘You’ve asked Alan to talk sense into another human being,’ Jayne paused. ‘Actually asked Alan? The man who when you asked him after sex what his favourite position was, genuinely replied; centre midfield. You’ve asked him to talk some sense into Harry? He’s more likely to talk him into getting married and nominate himself as best man.’