Page 2 of Six Steps to Happiness
“What can I say? Quality costs,” pizza man replied, a response that made Ronnie laugh even more.
Gaye, however, continued to appear less than amused and taking a deep breath, she turned, before coolly striding back towards her front door. She stopped halfway up the path and, still holding the pizza box, gave Ronnie a long cold stare.
Finally, a reaction.It seemed Ronnie’s patience was paying off.
She knew she was supposed to feel intimidated but considering their history, Ronnie didn’t care how the woman looked at her. She simply smiled as she stared right back and, taking the opportunity to further incense her neighbour, raised her glass in salutation.
Gaye fumed as she stormed inside, while Ronnie waited for the woman’s next move.
“What the…?” As a police car pulled up behind the Bello Italianovehicle, Ronnie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her jaw slackened and she stood there open-mouthed. “Well, you certainly know how to cross a line,” Ronnie sneered, forced to acknowledge that calling 999 was nothing compared to what Gaye had already done. “Of course you do.”
Watching the attending officer disembark and head for number eight, Ronnie swallowed hard. She took in his thick padded stab vest, police radio and utility belt, home to handcuffs, a baton, PAVA spray and goodness knew what other incapacitating accessories. As if that wasn’t scary enough, it wasn’t only his uniform that commanded respect, the guy was a giant, his whole mien exuding authority.
Ronnie looked from him to pizza man, wondering what to do for the best. One inner voice telling her to intervene and admit that she was the one who’d ordered the damn food, another insisting she stay put.
Ready to do the right thing, Ronnie placed her glass down on the windowsill. However, knowing that confessing would put an end to her antics, she hesitated, reminding herself that someone had to make next door pay for what they’d done and if not her, then who?
With her feet refusing to move, Ronnie continued to observe, easing her guilt with the fact that pizza man himself didn’t seem to care. She watched his chest swell as he took a deep intake of breath, his accompanying expression full of disdain. Placing his feet hip width apart and folding his arms across his chest, he appeared to settle into his stance, ready for the long haul. “Ooh, you’re good,” Ronnie said, admiring the man’s attitude. If Gaye wanted a battle, it looked like she’d got one.
“Evening,” the approaching police officer said.
Reappearing at her door, Gaye raced down her garden path, immediately launching into a string of complaints and talking at such speed that Ronnie struggled to make out her words. Even as Gaye’s voice got louder, every sentence remained indistinguishable thanks to the woman’s non-stop screeching. Ronnie winced, convinced that if her neighbour didn’t calm her pitch down and soon, it wouldn’t be long before everyone’s ears bled.
A door opening opposite caught Ronnie’s eye and despite some earlier rainfall, Mr Wright, watering can in hand, stepped out into the open air. He smiled her way and Ronnie gave him a wave. She liked Mr Wright. Unlike his wife who’d become quite cold towards Ronnie of late, he had proven himself more than understanding. Pretending to turn his attention to his hydrangeas, he seemed to keep one eye on the flora and one on the noisy goings on.
Needless to say, he wasn’t the only one showing interest. As Ronnie glanced up and down the street, it seemed Gaye had attracted quite a few spectators. Many of Ronnie’s usually discrete neighbours had opted to come out from behind their curtains and, like her, stand in full view. Mrs Smethurst a few doors down had even appeared at her gate. Ronnie smiled. Seeing everyone like that was more than she could have hoped for. Gaye was going to be the talk of the street. Again.
Refocusing on the commotion, it was obvious Ronnie wasn’t the only one to notice the growing interest; the police officer had clocked it too. He took in the audience, before at last putting up a hand to silence Gaye, an action the woman clearly didn’t appreciate. Halfway through her sentence, Gaye suddenly froze, glowering at the interruption. Unlike pizza man who didn’t even try to hide his smirk.
“Ha!” Ronnie said, smirking along with him.
“If we could take this inside, madam,” the police officer said.
“But…”
He gestured to the neighbours. “Unless you want everyone knowing your business?”
Ronnie laughed. It was a bit late for that.
Surprised by so many onlookers, Gaye stood there wide-eyed. Flushing red, she certainly didn’t look comfortable being such a source of entertainment and she clearly regretted losing control. She suddenly flicked her head high, as if trying to regain some respectability.
Talk about optimistic.
Ronnie gulped a mouthful of wine. “It’s going to take a lot more than that, love.”
Without another word, her neighbour turned and strutted back up her garden path.
“Would you mind waiting here, sir,” the officer said to pizza man.
Pizza man nodded, seemingly happy to oblige, while Ronnie topped up her glass in readiness of the next instalment.
2
Ronnie checked the time, having watched all her neighbours disappear. No doubt fed up of waiting, they’d retreated, one by one, back behind their curtains. Mr Wright’s hydrangeas had had their fill of water and those like Mrs Smethurst, who’d clambered for a glimpse of the action from their garden gates, had shut themselves away again. Something Ronnie thought fair enough; in their view, sitting in front of the TV with a cup of tea had to be better than standing in the cold. She gave a final check of the street. Only she and pizza man remained.
Ronnie’s impatience grew as she wondered what was going on inside number eight. Surely it didn’t take that long to read a woman her rights for wasting police time? Then again, she knew from experience that Gaye was good at milking situations for all their worth and Ronnie easily imagined the woman’s smarmy voice, protesting her innocence as usual. Of course, the elusiveboyfriendwould be backing Gaye up every step of the way, making out therufty tuftydelivery man was the real villain of the piece. After all, to say otherwise meant owning up to their own wrong doings, something Ronnie felt confident they’d never do.
She considered finishing off the contents of her wine glass so she could put it against the wall to listen. Not that there was any point, Ronnie reminded herself. No matter how many times she’d seen it in the movies, that tactic never worked. Glasses, teacups, mugs, plastic beakers… Ronnie had tried and failed with them all.
