Today I finally did it. The thing I've dreaded for 5 months:
I decided to finally visit the neighbour downstairs.
For the last 5 months I have drilled holes in the walls, changed floor boards, hammered and made so much noise she must've grown to hate me. I've been meaning to knock on her door, introduce me and tell her it's perfectly fine to tell me if I'm making too much noise. But the thought of her doing just that has put me off.
Until today. I started putting up skirting boards. It made a terrible noise, and so I bit the bullet and went downstairs. Rang the doorbell.
This little, fragile old lady opened the door. I introduced myself. She smiled and shook my hand. As she did so I noticed an alarm on her wrist (one of those old people have in case they fall or hurt themselves when alone).
I explained about the floors and noise. Told her I was sorry about the banging but that I hope to be finished with it all by next week. And she just smiled and said
I'm just happy there's a bit of noise sometimes. It's nice to know there's people in the house.
First I thought it was a lovely attitude. But then it hit me she's probably really, really lonely. Next time I knock on her door I'll bring a cake and stay for coffee.
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