They say neighbours can become either friends or enemies, but I never thought mine would become both overnight. What started as a simple favour turned into a fierce argument and a twist that made us both think twice.
When my husband, Silas, walked out of our lives six years ago, I couldn’t imagine standing in the kitchen, scrubbing the same countertop for the third time, and pondering how I became this way.
My name is Prudence, I’m 48 years old, a mother of two, trying to make ends meet by working remotely in a call centre. Life has definitely not turned out the way I had hoped.
Silas and I used to talk a lot about our dreams, you know, the kind of life we wanted to build together. But somewhere along the way, those dreams shattered, leaving me to pick up the pieces alone.
He left one night, saying he needed ‘space to find himself,’ leaving me with our eight-year-old son Damien and only a few months old daughter Connie. I guess he found more than just space, because he never came back.
‘Mum, can I have some porridge?’ – Connie’s little voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Her big brown eyes, full of innocence, looked up at me from the kitchen table.
“Of course, darling. Just a minute.” I forced myself to smile, pulling a box of cereal from the top shelf.
Damien, now 14 years old, walked into the kitchen with headphones in his ears as always. He barely looked at me and muttered: ‘I’m going to go meet Jake, okay?’
“Don’t take too long. And remember, homework first when you get back,” I shouted after him as he stormed out of the house without even waiting for my response.
It was just another day in the life I’d been trying to piece together since Silas left. Balancing the responsibilities of raising two children and trying to keep a roof over my head wasn’t easy.
My job at the call centre helped, but it wasn’t my dream job. But it was a job, and at times like this, that was what mattered.
And that’s when Emiri, a new neighbour in her 30s, knocked. I opened the door and saw her with red eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days.
‘Hi Prudence, can I ask you a big favour?’ – She said, her voice trembling slightly.
I nodded, stepping back to let her in. “Of course, Emiri. What’s wrong?”
She sighed, collapsing onto the couch like she was ready to fall. “There was a wild party last night, and then I got called away for work. The house is a mess and I don’t have time to clean. Can you, er, help me? I’ll pay, sure.”
I hesitated a little, glancing at my watch. My shift was starting in a couple of hours, but the thought of extra income was tempting. God, we sure needed it.
‘How much?’ – I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
‘Two hundred and fifty dollars,’ she said quickly. “I really need help, Prudence. I wouldn’t ask for it if it wasn’t an emergency.”
‘Okay,’ I agreed after a pause. ‘Will do.’
“Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver!” – Emiri gave me a quick hug before running out, leaving me wondering what I had just signed up for.
Emiri’s house was a mess, and that was putting it mildly. It looked like a tornado had swept through it: empty bottles, plates of unfinished food, trash everywhere.
I stood in the middle of her living room with my hands on my hips, trying to figure out where to start.
Two days. It had taken me two full days to wash, sweep, and trash this house. When I was done, my back hurt and my arms were strained. But I kept reminding myself of the $250 I had promised Emiri. We could really use that money.
When Emiri finally returned, I went to her house, ready to collect my money.
“Emiri, it’s done. Your house is as good as new,” I said, trying to hide the tiredness in my voice. ‘So, about the payment…’
She stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “Payment? What payment?”
I frowned, my heart dropping. “That $250 you promised for cleaning. Remember?”
Emiri’s face changed, first showing confusion and then irritation. “Prudence, I never promised to pay you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
For a moment I just stood there, dumbfounded. “You… what? You said you’d pay! We had a deal.”
‘No, we didn’t,’ she replied sharply. ‘Look, I’m late for work, I don’t have time for this.’ She walked past me, heading for her car.
‘Emiri, that’s not fair!’ – I shouted after her, but she was already driving out of the courtyard, not even looking in my direction.
Standing there, watching Emiri’s car drive away, I was seething with anger. How could she just leave like that?
Two days of hard work and she hadn’t even acknowledged that we had a deal. I could feel the rage boiling over, but I knew not to act on my emotions.
I got home, slammed the door shut and started pacing around the room, trying to think. Connie was playing with her dolls and Damien was still with his friends. I didn’t want to drag the kids into this story, but I wasn’t going to let Emiri get away with it either.
‘Okay, Prudence, we need to act smart,’ I muttered to myself. I looked out the window at Emiri’s house and an idea started to form in my head. It was risky, but I didn’t care anymore. If she decided to play foul, I could play dirty too.
Twenty minutes later I was at the local junkyard, pulling on the old gloves I kept in the car. I was ashamed of what I was about to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I loaded as many bags of rubbish into the boot as I could, the smell was such that I nearly burst out. But I gritted my teeth and carried on.
On the way back, I replayed our conversation in my head, her dismissive tone, her refusal to acknowledge what she’d promised. The more I thought about it, the more justified my anger seemed.
She didn’t even bother to respect my labour. Well, she’d soon realise how messy it could be.
When I pulled up to Emiri’s house, the street was quiet. No one was around, so I quickly opened the boot and started dragging bags of rubbish to her door. Heart pounding in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins, I worked fast.
Then I realised one thing: Emiri had forgotten to pick up her house keys. She’d been in such a hurry she hadn’t remembered them.
I froze for a moment. But then I thought of her cold phrase about how we’d never agreed. I wasn’t going to let her get away with that.
I opened the door and stepped inside. The house was still as clean as I’d left it, but that was about to change. I ripped open the bags, dumping everything on her floors, countertops, and even the bed. Rotten food, old newspapers, dirty nappies all mixed together in a disgusting pile.
‘This is what you deserve, Emiri,’ I muttered to myself as I emptied the last bag. ‘You wanted to play the game, so here the game begins.’
I closed the door behind me, remembering to lock it, and slid the key under her mat. As I walked to the car, I felt a strange combination of satisfaction and guilt. But I pushed it away. Emiri had brought it on herself.
That night, just as I was putting Connie to bed, I heard a furious knock on the door. I already knew who it was.
“Prudence! What the hell have you done to my house!” – Emiri shouted, her face red with anger.
I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the doorjamb, remaining calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Emiri. How could I have gotten into your house? We didn’t have a deal, remember? So I never had your keys.”
She stared at me, silent for a few moments, and then her face contorted with rage. “You… you’re lying! I’m calling the police! You’re going to answer for this!”
I shrugged, not taking my eyes off her. “Call the police. But how are you going to explain how I got into the house? You can’t, because according to you, I didn’t have a key.”
Emiri opened her mouth to say something, but there were no words. She looked like she was about to explode, but could only turn around and walk away, muttering something to herself.
I stared after her, my heart still pounding, but not with rage. It was a sense of justice, of rebalancing.
I didn’t know if she’d call the police, but I didn’t care. Emiri had a lesson to remember: don’t mess with Prudence.
As I closed the door, I took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. I knew I’d crossed the line, but in that moment, it was the only way to make things right.
Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself, even if you have to roll up your sleeves to do it. And what about Emiri? I don’t think she’ll be asking me for help anymore.
