Love Thy Neighbour

LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR

Nigel had no ambition. And that was the ultimate sin in the Campbell household. In his home, ‘Excelsior’ there was only one direction to go in life – upwards, and woe betide anyone who did not conform. Nigel’s younger sister Jayne was already preparing for a dozen or more ‘A’ grades and a place at Cambridge. His father was a successful solicitor; enterprising, committed and pushy. Nigel was nothing like him. His mother was a first class snob and chairperson of every committee in the area; the Hyacinth Bucket of Wollaton, Nottingham. Nigel hated them and everything they stood for.

         Nigel sought solace tinkering with the old motorbike he kept in the shed at the bottom of the garden. Out of sight. He’d tried parking it on the extensive drive of their oversized detached house but mother had soon put a stop to that.

         “A motor bike! Really Nigel, what would the neighbours think? Why can’t you get a nice little sports car like your father?”

         But Nigel had dug his heels in; as he always did. He had a passion for all things mechanical and his only aim in life was to be a motor mechanic.

         “A motor mechanic! Really Nigel, what would the neighbours think?” was his mother’s predictable reply when he had dared to mention it. “You’ll stay at school and get some qualifications; find a good job like your father.”

         Nigel had no intention of staying on at school and silently made plans to take up a motor mechanic's apprenticeship as soon as he left this summer. He would leave this clinical, loveless place that was supposed to be his home and move in with his girlfriend Laura and her mother.

         They had no idea he was still seeing Laura; bunking off school to meet her in town every day. Nigel remembered the one night he had risked bringing her home to meet his family.

         “Don’t think you’re taking up with that common little madam,” his mother stated coldly the minute Laura had left. “ Everyone knows she lives with her unmarried mother on that filthy council estate, sponging off decent people like us, it’s disgusting. And don’t even think about bringing her here again. Really Nigel, what would the neighbours think?”

         Two weeks later Nigel waved goodbye to his parents and sister as they set off for a three-week Mediterranean cruise. He had refused to go with them on the grounds he needed to study, but intended to carry out his plan the minute they had gone.

         “Look after the house and garden,” his mother reminded him. “And behave yourself. We don’t want the neighbours complaining when we get back.”

         Nigel packed quickly then thought maybe he had better take some means of identification with him if he intended to start a new life. He spent a long time in his parent’s bedroom in search of the sort of box that would typically hold family documents. His mother had ensured it was well hidden.

         Nigel opened the box. The first shock came when he discovered his parent’s marriage certificate. Nigel may not have passed maths ‘O’ level but it didn’t take him long to work out that the marriage had taken place two years after he was born.

         At the bottom of the box, he found what he was looking for. Nigel opened the birth certificate, his face registering confusion then astonishment as he studied the entry in scripted hand in the space marked ‘Name of father.’ Nigel checked it for the fourth time, making sure his eyes were not deceiving him. ‘Thomas Jones – occupation, motor mechanic.’ Well, well, well!

         When the shock had subsided, Nigel felt a strange sense of relief in the knowledge he was no relation to the man he had called father all his life. He decided his passport would be sufficient means for identification purposes. He threw it into his bag and fastened the zip.

         Nigel straddled his motorbike, raised two fingers then roared off towards the two-up two-down semi on the council estate where he knew he would find warmth, love and happiness. He smiled as he imagined his mother’s face when she saw the offending birth certificate pinned to the front door with his note which simply stated:-

         “Really mother, what would the neighbours think?”