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Noisy Neighbours
1
Mr Flinch
In a grim, grey house in a grim, grey town lived an unhappy man.
It was not his grey house that made Mr Flinch unhappy. It was not that he was poor, because he was not. Mr Flinch was a miser. He never gave away a penny. ( He never gave away a smile either. ) He was a mean and miserable man.
Mr Flinch was miserable because of his neighbours.
On one side of Mr Flinch’s grim, grey house stood a jolly red one. It belonged to Carl Clutch who mended cars.
Carl loved cars – and motorbikes and vans and lorries. Every morning, Mr Flinch woke up to hear hammers banging, spanners clanging and engines revving. The whole street shook with the noise.
On the other side, in a bright blue house, lived a music teacher called Poppy Plink. Each morning, Poppy sat down and played grand tunes on her grand piano. After breakfast, her students started to arrive.
Violins screeched, drums thundered and bassoons bellowed. Mr Flinch shut his window, but the noise still came through the wall. Brum – brum, tootle – toot, bang! His whole house shook and shivered.
He put his fingers in his ears.
He rapped on the wall … but his neighbours did not hear.
They were far too happy. They were mending cars and making music, and they loved their work.
Brum – brum, tootle – toot, bang!
Mr Flinch rap rapped until he made holes in his wallpaper. It did no good.
Mr Flinch locked himself in a cupboard. He wound old towels round his head.
He wrote angry letters, but tore them all up. ‘ Stamps cost far too much money!’ he said.
Even in bed, he wore a hat to keep out the noise.
But the cars still revved and the music still jangled.
Mr Flinch was the grey filling in a noise sandwich.
‘This can’t go on,’ Flinch thought to himself. He even shouted it out loud:
2
Nasty Tricks
Mr Flinch went next door to Carl’s house. Carl was mending cars. It was easy to sneak into his kitchen and put a dead rat in the fridge.
‘That will get rid of him!’ said Flinch, and smiled a nasty smile. ‘Nobody wants to live in a house with rats!’
At midnight, Mr Flinch climbed on to his roof and – carefully, carefully – crawled across the tiles. He put his head down Poppy’s chimney and gave a long, loud, ‘Hooowooowoooo!’
‘That will get ride of her,’ he said with a grim grin. ‘Nobody wants to live in a house with ghosts!’
Then he climbed back into bed.
Next morning, Mr Flinch woke to a HUGE noise. Cars and lorries were stopping outside. He looked out of his window.
Carl was sitting outside in the rood, with a table, a kettle, a loaf of bread and a bottle of tomato sauce.
Carl called to Mr Flinch, ‘Can’t use my kitchen today! Rays, urgh! My mum is cleaning up. She told me to eat my breakfast outside. That’s how I got this great idea! Take – away breakfast! Drivers can stop here and buy breakfast.’
Just then, Poppy Plink came running out of her blue front door. ‘Oh, Mr Flinch! Oh, Carl! Guess what happened last night!’
‘I give up,’ said Mr Flinch, with a sumg smirk. ‘Do tell.’
Poppy beamed with joy. ‘Last night, angles sang down my chimney! They did, I promise!’ She frowned. ‘But the music wasn’t very good! I think they want some new songs to sing! I’m sure they want me to write them, and I shall! Oh I shall!’
She did.
Poppy still had to teach music all day.
But at night she wrote angle music. She made it nice and loud, with lots of cymbals and trumpets.
It was all too much for Mr Flinch.
3
Mr Flinch has a Plan
Mr Flinch went next door to Carl’s house.
He showed Carl a fistful of money. ‘The day you move house, all this is yours!’ he said.
‘Anything you say, chief,’ said Carl, wiping his dirty hands on a rag.
‘As long as I can mend cars, I’ll be happy anywhere.’ Carl went on, ‘I’ll move out as soon as I can sell the house!’
Next, Mr Flinch went to Poppy’s house and offered her a hatful of money. ‘The day you move house, all this is yours!’ he said.
‘Of course! If that is what you want, dear heart! Cried Poppy.
She had never seen so much money in her life. ‘As long as I have my music, I can be happy anywhere! I will move out just as soon as I can sell my little house!’
Mr Flinch went home a happy man – well, as happy as a man like Mr Flinch can ever be.
He felt in his empty pockets and gulped. ‘All that money gone! Ah, but soon those noisy neighbours will be gone, too!’
In a few days, Mr Flinch’s neighbours had sold up their houses.
Now, at last, he would have peace and quiet – nothing but the noise of mice scratching in the empty cellar.
4
Moving Day
Mr Flinch watched as Poppy Plink moved out. Bo-jangle went the piano as she pushed and bumped it down the steps.
‘Going already are you, you pest?’ he mutted. ‘I pity the person who has to live next door to you!’
Seeing him, Poppy waved up at the window.
‘Such luck, Mr Flinch!’ she called. ‘Fancy! A few days ago, I met someone who wants to move house too! We agreed to swap houses!’
Just then, Carl came out of his front door carrying two heavy tool boxes. He saw Poppy struggling with a harp and went to help her. ‘All set, Poppy? he said.
‘All set, Carl! Isn’t this fun!’ She replied.
Then Carl moved into Poppy’s bright house and Poppy moved into Carl’s jolly red one.
They helped each other to carry the big things, like tables and sofas.
Then Carl had a house-warming party. He and Poppy sang, because they were so happy: ‘There’s no place like home!’
Mr Flinch heard it right through the wall of his house … even inside his cupboard, even with a towel round his head.
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(2011-10-23 12:35:23)