Fighting Back by Cathy MacPhail Page A

with something called “points”.’
    ‘Sounds like ballet,’ I said. I couldn’t hide my disappointment.
    Mum reached across the table and touched my hand. ‘She seemed to think we had a very good case. But what she is going to do, right now, is send someone up to warn HER NEXT DOOR – Sandra – to stop bothering us!’
    She sat back, with a grin on her face. ‘You see, your mother’s not useless. She gets things done!’
    Sandra threatened with eviction, thanks to my mum? She was about to get us strangled again, couldn’t she see that? And how could I tell her?
    ‘Well, haven’t you got anything to say?’
    Help! was the only word that sprang immediately to mind.
    * * *
    Mum’s good mood lasted well into the next day. She left
    the house with me in the morning, and planned to
    spend her day choosing the exact area she would ask to be moved to.
    ‘I was so naïve, Kerry. I should have held out, insisted on somewhere a bit more upmarket.’
    I didn’t dare remind her we only took this because we’d been told it was the last offer they would make.
    When I came home from school she was unpacking boxes, or just one to be exact. The one with the books in it. She was half-way through Pride and Prejudice when I came in. It was obvious she’d done nothing else. I made myself a ham sandwich and joined her.
    Suddenly, there was a fanatical scream from next door.
    We looked at each other. ‘Is that a horror film on satellite?’ I asked.
    It wasn’t. It was Sandra on the warpath.
    ‘Couldn’t we just ignore her?’
    ‘I’m not afraid of her!’ Mum opened the door with a flourish. There stood Sandra, magnificent in her anger.
    Ming was close behind her, shaking his head, exasperation written all over his face. One by one I noticed the neighbours coming out. They brought chairs to siton; one or two even had cups of tea with them. I was beginning to think nobody on this landing had televisions that worked. We were the entertainment.
    I was impressed by Mum’s aplomb. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked casually.
    Sandra let out a bloodcurdling scream. ‘I’ve had a man up. From the Housing. You complained about me! You!’
    ‘I did. I’ve had trouble from you since I moved here.’
    ‘Well, I’ve complained about you back. You’re the troublemaker.’
    Sandra looked around for someone to back her up. All the neighbours nodded agreement. ‘So you’ll have a man up in the mornin’.’
    ‘Good!’ Mum said. ‘I hope they have me evicted. I’d do anything to get out of this place. Do you hear me … ANYTHING!’
    Sandra turned shocked eyes on the neighbours. ‘Hear that! You think you are somethin’. You’re nothing but a blinkin’ snob!’
    Still, Mum didn’t get angry. I was proud of her. ‘I can hold my head up anywhere. Which is more than you can say. They told me at the Housing Department all about you. A string of complaints. They’ve had enoughof you, they said.’
    I felt this was a lie, a dangerous lie. She was getting a shade too cocky. I tugged at her sleeve.
    She pulled away. ‘Respectable people like me, they said, deserve a better class of neighbour than any of you. Now, I’ll thank you to get away from my door.’
    Sandra was almost blue in the face. This was not what she had expected. The neighbours looked disappointed too. They had been hoping for a little hand-to-hand combat at least. Mum slammed the door in Sandra’s face.
    She grinned at me. ‘That told her.’
    Suddenly, the letterbox flew open. ‘You’ve not heard the last of this. You’re goin’ to be sorry you tangled with Sandra Ramsay.’
    In answer, Mum slammed the letterbox down on Sandra’s fingers. She yelped and used a few words I hadn’t heard before.
    Mum was pleased with herself. She’d had another good day, and went to bed happy.
    I wasn’t so happy. I felt sick to my stomach. I had an awful premonition something was going to happen.
    I awoke in the middle of the night. The house wassilent. But something