Writing for Fun
November 2017
Things That Go Bump In The Night - Sue Barker
In early May Ros Brown moved into 21a Acacia Terrace; her mother had cried when she moved out. Being an only much wanted child Ros had been thoroughly spoiled at home and her parents didn’t know what they would do without her, or what to do together without her. Sadly her great auntie Joan recently passed away and Ros inherited enough money to put a very large deposit down on her first flat. She moved in and started to make it her very own, she had bright blinds and startling furniture, mainly bought from second hand markets and some from Freecycle.
Her parents joked that they would need sunglasses when they visited but Ros didn’t care. It was all hers and it was heaven; no rules to worry about and she had total freedom to come and go as she pleased without the predicable, ‘You treat this house like a hotel’ mantra which she’d heard regularly for the last two years since leaving school, with no qualifications, too much interest in boys and too little attention paid in class. Maybe eighteen was quite young to be so independent but she had a regular job as a barmaid in the Pig and carrot pub, just round the corner from her new abode. The punters were cheeky but nothing she couldn’t cope with. She had a good social life when she wasn’t working and had recently started an evening course and a Strollercise exercise class. Life was sweet.
Barry Jones, 41 a shift worker in a local factory, lived at 21 Acacia Terrace; he hadn’t met his neighbour but was aware of her. He had lived in his flat for 12 years since his wife had left him, he wished life could be different but didn’t know how to change it. He was a quiet man who lived a very lonely life. He worked, ate, watched tv and then slept. This pattern only varied by his work rota.
One Wednesday Ros came home late from her shift in the pub and all she wanted to do was to crawl into bed and sleep but she had so much adrenalin coursing through her body she needed to unwind. She had heard at the Strollercise class that you could log onto Facebook and watch the Strollercise dances online. It was 12.45 and she started watching. Ooh, she thought, there was a new routine she hadn’t seen before. She turned the volume up and her feet started to mimic the routine, she watched it twice and then without any thought for anyone else began performing the dance. To the sound of Elvis she began: two steps left, two steps right, twist and turn; box step, grapevine right, grapevine left; her feet were in full flight. She twisted, she sang, oh it felt so good. Had she been a little older she may have had some consideration but she was young and the world was hers to enjoy.
Barry lay in bed. What the hell was going on upstairs? Bang, thump, thump, the throbbing of the music assaulted his brain. For the love of god, he thought, this has to stop. He shoved his outdoor coat on over his pyjamas and took the stairs two at a time. He banged on his neighbours door and shouted. He had to repeat this several times before the door opened. Before him stood a red faced girl, dressed in jog pants and a tee shirt; she had sweat on her brow and she was puffing and panting. Barry used a few words interspersed with several expletives and Ros agreed to turn the music off. When he returned to his flat he couldn’t get to sleep.
Ros felt bad for the old boy downstairs but he was a bit unreasonable; she was only trying to unwind. Ros went to bed but couldn’t get to sleep.
A week later they passed in the hallway, Barry felt embarrassed about the language he’d used; she was a very young girl and as it was out of character for him to be so aggressive he mumbled an apology. Ros also said sorry and they shared a small smile. They stood there for a minute, with a slightly uncomfortable silence which was finally broken when Barry plucked up the courage to ask her what she’d been doing that night of the disturbance. Ros explained she attended an exercise class called Strollercise, moving to 50’s music; you moved 6000 steps in an hour and it was great. She was so enthusiastic Barry was intrigued, he really loved 50’s music; Elvis was his absolute favourite. As he was interested Ros popped into her flat and come back with a flyer advertising the class.
Ros wasn’t surprised when two weeks later she spied Barry at the back of the class, they smiled at each other and carried on with the exercises. Each in their own world – you did need to concentrate or you bumped into everyone around you. Several months went by with them both attending the classes as and when their jobs allowed. One balmy evening in June Barry caught up with Ros at the corner of their street and thanked her profusely. She had changed his life, he said. Thanks to her he had given up his job and was taking out a franchise with the Strollercise class and was going to be running several classes a week. He hoped that he wouldn’t disturb her too much when he had to practise any new routines. Ros grinned and asked if she joined his classes would she get a discount?