My Neighbours Are Stealing My Mail

by Ian Edwards

  ‘Yes.’

  A cool breeze blew across the lounge. Rosie shuddered. ‘I think I’ll get a cardigan before we go,’ she said and left the room.

  ‘Evening,’ Alan gave Frankie a mock salute and dropped down onto the sofa.

  ‘What’s Rosie all dressed up for?’ Frankie asked sitting next to him.

  ‘We’re off next door to have drinks with the girls,’ Alan told him. ‘Hold on, I’m dressed up too.’

  Frankie gave him a cursory glance. ‘If you say so.’

  Alan lowered his voice. ‘Right, listen. I’ve got a plan. Are you hanging around for a bit?’

  Frankie nodded. ‘As far as I know.’

  ‘Good, right. When we’re next door, have a poke around see if you can find my mail. I’ll ask a few discreet questions, see if I can trick them into revealing anything.’ Alan paused for a moment. ‘Do you think you can manage that?’

  ‘Leave it to me son, a bit of sleuthing’s right up my street.’

  *

  Ten minutes later Alan and Frankie sat on the sofa and watched as Rosie busied herself around the lounge transferring the contents of her handbag to another handbag.

  Alan exchanged a puzzled looked with Frankie. ‘What are you doing?’ He asked.

  ‘Putting everything from my everyday handbag into my going out bag.’

  ‘We’re only going next door. It’s not really going out is it? We could knock the wall down and just step through if you like. That’ll save you a lot of messing around.’

  ‘You can keep quiet now if you like,’ Rosie suggested as she squeezed her phone into her going out bag.

  ‘Why are you taking your phone and purse? Do they charge for drinks next door?’ Frankie chuckled, which only egged Alan on. ‘And your phone. Are you expecting to get so drunk that you’ll need a cab to get home?’

  Rosie fastened her bag and turned to Alan. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Do we have a code word in case things get a bit boring and we need to push off early?’ He asked.

  Rosie shook her head. ‘Of course we don’t. Why would we?’

  ‘As a safety net. What happens if we get there and they’re drunk and moaning about how men have ruined their lives? We’ll need an escape strategy.’

  Rosie rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll probably join in with them.’

  ‘If it’s getting a bit tedious I’ll disappear off to the loo and give you a call. You make something up and we’ll be out of there quicker than you can say Neighbours from Hell.’

  ‘What do you suggest I tell them?’

  ‘Back in my day, if I wanted to get out anything I always used to say we couldn’t get a babysitter,’ Frankie said.

  ‘Tell them there’s a problem with the babysitter,’ Alan offered.

  ‘We live next door. I think they might have noticed a baby being around,’ Rosie pointed out.

  Alan shook his head. ‘You haven’t told them we don’t have a baby have you?’

  ‘No…But…’

  ‘There you go. If I call, you tell them it’s the babysitter and little Frankie has an upset stomach or colic and teething.’

  Rosie pointed at the wall. ‘They’re next door, they would have heard screaming.’

  Alan scratched his face in thought. ‘Tell them that I’ve sound proofed the nursery.’

  Rosie picked her bag up. ‘Can we go now, or the only screaming they’ll hear will be me if I listen to any more of your rubbish.’

  *

  Alan and Frankie filtered past Rosie who shut the front door after them.

  ‘Did you get a chance to speak to Harry at all?’ She called after Alan as he wandered down the path.

  ‘Sorry I forgot, there was a lot going on.’

  Rosie stood half way down the path hands on hips. Attack mode again.

  ‘So you didn’t say anything?’

  ‘No. I said I forgot. There was a lot going on, it just slipped my mind.’

  Rosie sighed. ‘I specifically asked you to speak to Harry about Katherine. You must have seen him several times since.’

  Alan shrugged. ‘I’ve actually only seen him once since you asked. I just forgot. I’ll mention it the next time I see him.’

  ‘For crying out loud, Alan.’ Rosie shook her head. ‘If you want a job done properly, do it yourself.’

  ‘Does that mean you don’t want me to speak to him now?’

  ‘No, I’ll do it,’ she huffed.

  ‘Great,’ Alan grinned. ‘Harry will be at the quiz night. You could speak to him then.’

  ‘So you didn’t think to speak to him about Katherine but you remembered the quiz night?’

  ‘As I said, there was a lot going on.’

  Rosie shook her head and walked past him. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘I’m no expert, but I’d say your Rosie is quite annoyed,’ Frankie smirked.

  ‘Going to be a fun night at this rate,’ Alan whispered back to him.

  A minute after leaving their house Alan, Rosie and Frankie stood on their neighbour’s front step. Rosie reached across to ring the door bell and paused.

  ‘Are you wearing slippers?’ She asked, looking down at Alan’s feet.

  ‘Yeah,’ he waggled his toes for effect, the tartan pattern moving in unison with his toes.

  ‘You really don’t do yourself any favours.’ Frankie said shaking his head.

  ‘For god’s sake why?’ Rosie hissed.

  ‘I keep telling you, it’s not like going out. It’ll be just like a night in, but the rooms are the opposite way round.’

  ‘Are you trying to embarrass me?’ She hissed again.

  ‘Not yet,’ he quipped. Frankie sniggered.

  Alan was spared Rosie’s response by the front door opening. A tall, thin woman with short blonde hair stood in the doorway and beckoned them in.

  ‘Rosie, Alan, come in. I heard voices and thought it was you. ‘

  ‘Hi Dawn,’ Rosie gushed and presented her with a bottle of wine wrapped in tissue paper.

  Dawn held the door open and gestured that they head down along the hall. ‘Joy is in the kitchen. Obviously you know where that is.’

  Alan, Rosie and Frankie filtered past Dawn into the hall. ‘Remember,’ Rosie hissed at Alan. ‘Neutral.’

  *

  Alan perched as best he could on a small circular bar stool, one of six around a central island in an expensively designed kitchen, while Joy fired questions at him;

  ‘So what’s it like being a comedian?’

  ‘Oh, there’s good days and bad days. Just like any job really.’

  ‘Do you have to be funny?’

  ‘It helps.’

  ‘Are you funny?’

  ‘No. He isn’t,’ Rosie interrupted, drawing a laugh from Joy and Dawn.

  ‘Is it scary, standing up in front of all those people?’

  ‘It is the way he does it,’ Frankie called out from where he was also trying and failing to sit comfortably on a bar stool with all the poise of a rodeo cowboy on a camel.

  ‘Not scary as such, but you can get quite nervous,’ Alan told her, ignoring Frankie.

  ‘Did you always want to be a comedian?’

  Alan stifled a yawn, bored of Joy’s constant questions. He picked a sausage roll from a paper plate and faked a look of concentration. A peek at the large clock on the wall told him they had only been here for fifteen minutes. It felt like fifteen hours. He had scanned the room when they walked in and didn’t see any piles of post or bulging mail sacks. Maybe it was time to start do some digging.

  ‘Alan!’ Rosie snapped. ‘You haven’t answered Joy’s question.’

  He smiled at Joy who was sitting opposite him. ‘I’m sorry I was thinking about the answer, it’s a very good question.’

  ‘And..?’ Joy prompted.

  ‘Well...When I was a kid I always wanted to be a postman.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ Frankie clapped his hands.

  ‘Really?’ Joy asked.

  ‘Yeah. I was always fascinated by postm
en when I was younger. The idea of emptying my sack in various houses throughout the day seemed to be a very simple and uncomplicated way to spend my time.’

  ‘Nothing’s really changed,’ Frankie said.

  Alan sensed the intensity of Rosie’s stare increase a couple of notches.

  He continued. ‘In fact I still get a sense of opportunity missed when I see postmen today.’ He paused for a moment, ensuring that he still had Dawn and Joy’s attention. ’Our postman is great isn’t he? The way he puts those letters right through the letter box without bending them. Haven’t you noticed your letters are immaculate when they arrive?’

  Dawn and Joy exchanged looks. ‘No we haven’t,’ Dawn said. ‘We get very little post these days. Everything is sent by email.’

  ‘What, no post at all?’

  Dawn emptied a bottle of wine into Rosie’s glass and reached across the island for another. ‘Not really. A few bills and circulars. It’s mainly junk mail.’

  Alan glanced at Rosie who was staring daggers at him. He smiled at her and continued. ‘I bet you wish you got loads of post though. Coming home from work each day to a big pile of envelopes to open, sifting through the interesting ones, making piles.’

  Dawn shook her head. ‘No not really.’

  ‘That’s not what you were expecting,’ Frankie said. ‘Time for a change of tactic.’

  Alan stepped unsteadily from his stool, which now appeared much taller since he’d started drinking. ‘May I use the toilet?’

  ‘Of course you can,’ Joy gestured towards the stairs. ‘First door on the left… But you know that.’

  Giving Frankie a nudge on his way out, Alan made his way up the stairs to the toilet.

  *

  Alan sat on the edge of the bath and flicked through the list of contacts on his phone. The shower curtain flapped in a gentle breeze as Frankie appeared next to him.

  ‘Congratulations. Your neighbours think you’re a crazy post obsessed lunatic and when you get home Rosie’s going to kill you.’

  Alan smirked. ‘So not a bad evenings work then. Anyway, I think they know I’m onto them.’

  Frankie rolled his eyes. ‘What part of their complete indifference gave you that idea?’

  ‘Right, time for you to get out there,’ he pointed at the door, ‘and start nosing around.’

  ‘Anywhere in particular?’

  ‘Everywhere,’ Alan paused for a moment. ‘Anywhere where post could be hidden. Look under beds, in wardrobes, everywhere.’

  Frankie pursed his lips. ‘I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this.’

  ‘I’m not comfortable with getting my post nicked, so off you go. Get searching. In the meantime,’ Alan tapped his phone. ‘I’m going to get us out of here.’

  ‘You’re not are you?’ Frankie shook his head. ‘Please tell me you’re not.’

  ‘I’m going to call Rosie and tell her that little Frankie is having trouble with trapped wind and is making a right old fuss,’ Alan told him, a wide grin on his face.

  Alan tapped the screen of his phone and held it to his ear. ‘Now shhh,’ he hissed at Frankie. ‘Hi, it’s me. Time to make our excuses and…’ He fell silent.

  ‘What’s up?’ Frankie enquired.

  ‘She’s turned her phone off!’

  Frankie stifled a laugh. ‘Did little Frankie get better then?’

  ‘I can’t believe she’s done that,’ he seethed. ‘She knew the plan. It’s what we agreed.’

  ‘You do know that simply telling someone something doesn’t mean it’s been agreed?’

  Alan stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket. ‘I’m going to have to think of something else, otherwise I’m going to be here all night.’ He gestured at the door. ‘Off you go and do your thing.’

  *

  Alan sat on his stool and watched as Rosie, Dawn and Joy swapped stories about one of their neighbours. He had failed to come up with a reasonable excuse to leave early and was now stuck in a conversation about the man at number 35 or was it 39? Who had either married or murdered his partner.

  He glanced at the clock again. He’d only been back in the kitchen for ten minutes, though it seemed like an eternity. Ten minutes however was enough time for Frankie to have carried out a thorough search of a room or two.

  Alan drained his glass and reached across the island for a bottle of beer. Joy handed him a bottle opener. ‘So, when are you doing a comedy spot next? We can come and see you.’

  Alan frowned. This was awkward. He had spent the last few weeks developing a routine about his crazy neighbours stealing his mail. He couldn’t let them see that. Maybe he’d have to do an old routine like Fat Kid.

  ‘I’ll check with my agent,’ he told her. ‘See what she has me booked for, and I’ll let you know.’

  Joy smiled. ‘That’s great, we’ll look…’

  A piercing scream cut across Joy’s response and caused the hairs on the back of Alan’s neck to stand to attention.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Rosie demanded.

  Joy looked at Dawn. ‘Was that Mr Licky?’

  ‘A bit late for the Ice Cream van isn’t it?’ Alan said.

  ‘Mr Licky is our dog,’ she told him. ‘Something’s upset him.’

  A second scream filled the air.

  ‘He’s upset? Really?’

  ‘Why is he upstairs?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘He gets a bit excitable around strangers,’ Dawn explained. ‘We normally leave him in the spare room so he doesn’t get too much of a handful.’

  Another scream, this time topped off with a growl.

  Joy got off of her stool. ‘Come on then, we’d better go and get him.’

  Dawn followed her out of the kitchen. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Licky your mummies are coming,’ she said in response to another bout of screeching.

  Alan looked at Rosie. ‘Come on we can’t miss this.’

  Joy stood outside the spare room door. ‘OK, darling,’ she said softly. ‘We’re coming in now.’ She turned the door handle and gently pushed the door open.

  Alan and Rosie crowded behind Joy and Dawn as the door opened.

  Sitting on the floor staring at the door was a little pug with a shiny black coat. Seeing Joy and Dawn he gave another scream and enthusiastically wagged his tail.

  Alan gawped at the scene in front of him. It differed only slightly from that which the others could see. Frankie lay pinned to the floor by Mr Licky, who sat on his chest screeching.

  ‘Will somebody get this little sod off me?’ Frankie called out, which started Mr Licky screeching again.

  Dawn bent down and picked the dog up.

  ‘Did Mr Licky get all lonely in the big room all on his own?’ She cooed into his ear.

  Frankie staggered to his feet and started brushing dog hair from his green velvet jacket.

  ‘Bloody Zoltan, hound of hell,’ he grumbled.

  Alan watched in amusement as Dawn had Mr Licky in her arms as if she was winding a baby, gently bouncing him up and down.

  ‘There, there,’ more gentle bouncing and rubbing his back. ‘Did you get all fretful?’

  Joy stood next to them and joined in the back rubbing.’ Did Mr Licky get all scared?’

  ‘Mr Licky.’ Frankie repeated. ‘That can’t be his name. He’s evil, pure evil.’

  As Dawn walked the dog around the room, Mr Licky caught sight of Frankie standing next to Alan. Mr Licky’s eyes went a brighter shade of green and he attempted to launch himself over Dawn’s shoulder at Frankie.

  ‘He’s off again,’ Frankie shouted and threw himself behind the bed.

  Alan briefly caught sight of a little black dog lunging at him from over Dawn’s shoulder.

  ‘What the f…’ Alan screamed as Dawn took a firm hold and pulled Mr Licky back.

  Dawn gave Alan a weak smile while attempting to relax the wriggling black dog. ‘I’m sorry Alan, I’ve never seen him do that before. He must really like you.’

  ‘Alan is very good with animal
s,’ Rosie said. ‘They seem to have a natural affinity with him.’

  Alan subconsciously stepped away from Dawn and Mr Licky. ‘No way,’ he protested. ‘I’ve never got on with dogs, ever since I was cornered by a sausage dog. I was traumatised for months.’

  ‘You were twenty nine,’ Rosie teased. ‘Get over it.’

  Joy patted the growling dog. ‘We may as well take him back down with us. He’s not going to settle now.’

  ‘Does Mummy’s little soldier want some supper?’ Dawn said in such a voice that Alan wondered if the dog was a bit simple.

  As Joy led Dawn out of the room, Alan and Rosie watched as Mr Licky poked his head over Dawn’s shoulder and stared in Alan’s direction.

  ‘Look at him,’ Alan whispered. ‘He’s crazy.’

  ‘I think he’s quite cute,’ Rosie said and followed Dawn out of the room.

  Alan shook his head, sighed and looked behind the bed. ‘You can come out now,’ he said to Frankie who had slipped under the bed.

  ‘Have they gone?’

  ‘Well they’ve gone downstairs, so I suppose you’re safe for the time being.’

  Frankie rolled out from under the bed. ‘Thank god for that.’ He stood up. ‘I didn’t think the psycho mutt was ever going to let me go.’

  Alan grinned. ‘I forgot that your lot send animals a bit crazy.’

  ‘What do you mean, my lot?’

  ‘You know? Ghosts, spirits, poltergeists.’ Alan paused for a moment. ‘So what happened?’

  Frankie sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Well I came in here for a look around…’

  ‘Did you find anything?’

  ‘No, I got jumped by the hell hound. I’d only just opened the door when this thing launched itself at me. He hit me here,’ Frankie tapped himself on the chest. ‘Forced me down and sat on me.’

  ‘So you didn’t find anything?’

  ‘I told you, no. I didn’t get a chance. Anyway, he sat on me for a bit, growled a few times and eventually decided to have a wash.’

  ‘A wash?’

  ‘Yeah, a full leg behind the head job, loads of licking and biting, his nuts were glaring at me.’

  Alan giggled. ‘That image is going to stay with me forever.’

  ‘Me too. So I thought he’d be distracted and I tried to wriggle out, and that’s when he started with the barking and screeching.’

  ‘So you couldn’t find my post anywhere?’