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    Neighbours From Hell
    Neighbours From Hell
    Neighbours From Hell
    Ebook79 pages1 hour

    Neighbours From Hell

    By Mat Coward

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    About this ebook

    Twelve-year-old Splodge Hodge lives with his family (Mum, Dad, Non-Existent Sister, and Phart the Dog) on an ordinary, peaceful housing estate somewhere in England.

    Peaceful, that is, until a new family moves in across the road. Well, what would you do if your neighbours from hell really were ... neighbours from hell?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMat Coward
    Release dateDec 5, 2011
    ISBN9780955868641
    Neighbours From Hell
    Author

    Mat Coward

    Mat Coward is a British writer of crime fiction, SF, humour and children's fiction. He is also gardening columnist on the Morning Star newspaper. His short stories have been nominated for the Edgar and shortlisted for the Dagger, published on four continents, translated into several languages, and broadcast on BBC Radio. Over the years he has also published novels, books about radio comedy, and collections of funny press cuttings, and written columns for dozens of magazines and newspapers.

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      Book preview

      Neighbours From Hell - Mat Coward

      Neighbours From Hell

      by Mat Coward

      Published by Alia Mondo Press at Smashwords

      Copyright 2011 Mat Coward

      This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please buy an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not buy it, or it was not bought for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and buy your own copy.

      *****

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1 - Maggot Boy

      Chapter 2 - Roach Rustling

      Chapter 3 - Tea Time

      Chapter 4 - Wolf Party

      Chapter 5 - Wolf Party 2

      Chapter 6 - Family At War

      Chapter 7 - A Select Gathering

      Chapter 8 - Wind-up

      Chapter 9 - How To Unblock A Chimney

      Chapter Ten - Revenge Of The Maggot Boy

      Chapter Eleven - Scheming

      Chapter Twelve - Show Time

      Chapter Thirteen - All Lit Up

      About The Author

      *****

      Chapter One: Maggot Boy.

      I met the boy first. That was fun.

      The day the Smithereens moved in, I saw a kid sitting on the low wall in front of their small lawn, swinging his legs. He looked my sort of age, twelveish, thirteenish (the ish refers to him, obviously, not me; I'm entirely twelve).

      I had nothing better to do, if you don't count homework, which I certainly don't, so I wandered over the road to say Hi.

      The boy - I found out later that his name was Grat - was round, rather pink, with spiky hair. His clothes looked expensive - an expensive waste of money, in fact, since none of them fitted him very well. He had a plastic bucket clutched between his knees.

      Hi, I said. My name's Hodge. Splodge Hodge, but my friends call me Peter. I'm your neighbour from across the road, number twelve. Welcome to the Linton Estate.

      Grat stared at me for a moment or two, not saying anything, just carrying on swinging his legs around the plastic bucket. Then he spoke. Guess what I've got in this bucket, he said.

      I shrugged. I don't know. Give us a clue.

      All right, he said. Here's your clue. And he picked up the bucket, leaned forward, and emptied it over my head.

      Guess what he had in the bucket?

      Maggots.

      Dead ones, as it happens, which I suppose is better than live ones. Easier to get out of your ears, at any rate.

      *****

      My parents are members of a thing called The Linton Estate Real Neighbours Scheme. In fact, they were amongst the first people to join, when Mrs Lewis from Fern Crescent originally came up with the idea.

      You see, my Dad explained to me once, you won't remember this, but there was a time, before you were born -

      That's why I wouldn't remember it, then? I said.

      Correct, said Dad, who doesn't go in for witticisms much, not when he's explaining things. There was a time when people like us lived in real communities. Everybody knew each other, and people did things together, and you helped your neighbours out, and -

      "Like on Coronation Street?" I said.

      Bit like that, yes, Dad agreed, only with fewer armed robberies, bankruptcies, divorces and invasions from outer space. Dad doesn't actually watch Coronation Street. But in recent years, he went on, community has become a dirty word.

      I didn't hear the next few lines, as I was distracted, imagining what it would mean if he was right, and community really was a dirty word. It'd be a fag to write on bog walls, for a start - far too many letters. And Ms Heyer's Community Studies classes would have to be banned by the education authority.

      Meanwhile, back at the plot...

      I mean, Dad was saying, half the people round here don't even know each other's names. You think about it: there's fourteen houses in our street, and I don't suppose your Ma and I have had a cup of tea or a glass of beer in more than three of them, in all the five years we've been here.

      That seemed to me a simple problem to remedy, if that was all that was worrying him. They could have a Beerathon. Do it on Bank Holiday Monday, and get it sponsored for charity. They'd get ten pence from everybody for every house they drank a glass of beer in. To make it more interesting, you could put a time limit on it: put all the grown-ups on skateboards, and have them whizzing up and down the road, in and out of the houses, pouring beer down their necks.

      Might even get on local telly. Or Crimewatch UK.

      No, you mark my words, Dad was saying - so I thought I'd better listen, at least for the next few seconds. There is more to life than just sitting in your own house, watching your own TV with your own family, and ignoring everything else that's going on in the outside world. And this Real Neighbours Scheme is going to remind people of that. It's going to make a lot of difference.

      So what exactly are these Real Neighbours going to get up to, then? I asked, because you've got to show an interest, haven't you?

      Oh, you know, said Dad. Meetings, and - er - that sort of thing.

      Wow, I said. Sounds pretty damn thrilling.

      Yes, said Dad. Doesn't it? Like I say, he's not too hot on jokes, when his

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