Honey Pie (P.M)

Forthlin Road - A New Home

It was a wet, blustery afternoon in June when the old blue Ford pulled up outside number 18. Sat inside, contemplating whether or not to brave the storm were 5 people. The residents of number 20, the McCartney clan – a family of 3 men; a father and his two teenage sons - watched as their new neighbours finally ran inside to get out of the rain. James McCartney, or Jim as he was better known, shook his head with disapproval as he watched his sons strain their necks as they tried to get a better look at the new neighbours. “Stop being so bloody nosey; they’re only people, for goodness sake.” He said; no response was given from either of his boys. Paul, 17, and Michael, 15, simply ignored their father and continued press their cheeks up to the cold glass of the living room window. But the rain didn’t let up that night, and they went to bed, disappointed at not having seen their new neighbours clearly.

Early the next morning, Michael excitedly woke his older brother up... by jumping on his bed, narrowly missing areas that would cause immense pain if stamped on. “Paul! Paul! Wake up!” Paul groaned, batting his younger brother away. “What do you want, Mike?” He asked, hiding his head under the pillow. “The new neighbours are outside!” Paul shot up, knocking Michael out of the way as he made his way to the window. The two of them pushed to see; sure enough, a man and woman stood talking to their removal men on the pavement, while two young children ran around in the small front garden. Jim knocked on Paul’s door and came in without being invited. He shook his head. “Don’t say a word; I’m your father and I’ve seen it all before.” Jim said, before Paul could start his usual speech about ‘invasion of privacy’ and ‘manners’. “You’d never do it if you have daughter.” Paul muttered, temporally distracted from his inquisitive activity. “That’s beside the point. And anyway, what do you two think you’re doing? It’s only 9:23am; what will Mr Quant and Mrs Harding think when they look up and see that they’re living next to two peeping toms?” Paul rolled his eyes at Michael, who shrugged, and they both looked back out of the window. Soon, another person appeared between the man and woman. She handed the two removal men a mug of tea each and stayed to join the conversation. “Who’s that?” Michael asked their father. Jim looked over his son’s heads and sighed, “I knew this would happen... That’s the older girl, Mrs Harding’s daughter.” Paul gazed at the back of the girl’s head, wondering what she looked like from the front. “I met them this morning. They’re very pleasant people.” Jim said, folding some clothes he’d brought with him, placing them on Paul’s desk chair. Paul and Michael both looked at their father, stunned. “When?” They both asked. “I believe it was about seven this morning. I went to welcome them. Their names are Gerald Quant and Paula Harding. Both divorced but together now. The two younger children are Gerald’s and the older girl that Paul is gawking at is, as I’ve just said, Paula’s daughter. She’s the same age as you, Paul - I can see that’s put a smile on your face - She’ll be seventeen in November.” Paul shifted his gaze back to where the girl stood. “What’re the kids names, dad?” Michael asked. “Gerald’s children - not kids Michael, please. We’re British. - are called Matthew and Ginny. Paula’s daughter is called Louise.” Paul looked back to where Louise was stood. She was quite small and had dark brown wavy hair that went just past her shoulders. “When will we be introduced to them?” Paul asked, finally looking back at his father. “As soon as you’re dressed; I offered your service to them; both of you. You’re gonna help them unpack.”