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Sonny sits down to eat dinner with his best friend right beside him. The wind and rain rage outside, ending an otherwise uneventful day. Leftover macaroni and cheese tonight, cold, slightly jaded and hardly his favourite, nor Betty’s. They both prefer something with a bit more protein, especially Betty who gives that “really?” look, turns her nose up and sits staring blankly at it.

“Look, there she is again. That woman’s always spying on us from her front window. Hasn’t she got something better to do?” Sonny points to the grand well maintained red brick Georgian house directly across the street, set back behind a large wall and a manicured garden. The occupant, a middle aged lady has been a bone of contention for Sonny these past few years. He hates being watched, it irritates him and he loves his privacy. It is possibly safe to say they despise each other. Hmm, maybe a little harsh; they appear to dislike each other very much.

“I haven’t seen her out lately, Betty, have you? I wonder if she still works for the council.”

Betty shrugs, looks out for a moment and goes back to her sulk about the dinner.

“Silly old fool, you’d think she’d be used to us by now. After all, we’ve been here seven, no hold on, eight years this month.”

Sonny collects Betty’s food from the table and puts it back in a container. He tidies their plates away and gets ready for bed.

“Do you want me to tuck you in, Betty? It’s been a long day.” Sonny leans over, tucks Betty in and tucks himself in for the night.

Early the following morning, the pair take a stroll in the large park directly next door. It’s a usual pastime for them both and would be a shame to waste such a convenience of a neighbouring park. Sonny is a keen forager and the earlier the better for that. They return to the entrance near their home and sit on a bench where Sonny unwraps a sandwich from a cloth and shares it with Betty.

“Mmmm, ham and mustard. You like that don’t you?” Says Sonny. Betty gives an approving look and awaits her share. They both look up and down the street, just the other side of the part railings. The morning rush underway, honking and revving engines, punctuated with passers by on foot and cycle. It all washes over them now, they are so used to it and see the same scenes play out day after day. Occasionally there will be a minor crash or someone arguing, but mostly it is just uneventful.

“It would be lovely to have one of those big houses, wouldn’t it Betty? Do you ever think that?”

Betty shrugs and continues looking.

“You never have much to say to me do you, Betty? You haven’t said much since Julie passed away. Now it feels like I am always trying to strike up  conversations here. It can be a little tedious. I miss Julie’s laughter; at least she used to answer me. Hold on. I can still see that woman watching us from here. I’m going to have to teach her another lesson.”

A group of five lads in school uniform walk past staring and poking fun at the pair. Sonny scowls and shoos them away with a swift hand gesture. The lads continue on their way hurling stronger abuse and talking amongst themselves. They stop about ten metres away and one of them runs back, cheered on by the rest. He picks up a nearby bin and empties it over them both. Wrappers, ice cream cones, banana peel and smelly water from last night’s storm. The lad gets a huge cheer from his friends, drops the bin and runs to catch them up.  Five minutes later a police officer arrives, looking unimpressed by Sonny and Betty.

“They went that way, officer,” Sonny says, pointing across the hill.

“Now come on, you can’t sit there like that. We’ve had complaints. Move on.”

“We’re the victims here, officer. Can’t you see the rubbish they emptied everywhere?”

“How do I know you haven’t done that yourselves?” says the office pulling his notebook and pen out of his breast pocket.

“Give us a break, do we look like idiots? Of course we are going to tip a bin over ourselves on a lovely morning like this.”

“That’s not what we are here about and you know it. Come on, you are going to have to move on. I’m told by one of the residents they don’t want you here. Both of you now,” the officer waits for them to leave, tapping his foot and watching his watch..

“See that Betty. No respect for their elders. Typical beat bobby with too much authority and no compassion. All because we look a bit scruffy.”

Sonny and Betty head the short distance home. It was once a regular occurrence to pop through the park fence after dark. Not recently though as Betty’s arthritis has got worse, which keeps them home more. Sonny reflects on the state of his attire and thinks about how he is going to afford to get some new clothes. This is a recurring thought, but he hasn’t followed through so far.

“There’s not much in the coffers these days Betty. I’m going to struggle to smarten myself up, but I have to do it someday soon. It’s alright for you, look at that lovely pink jacket of yours. You look a knockout in it.”

The day turns another page and then another. The duo continue to notice the woman watching them. Her gaze often met their reciprocal stare. Sonny has even waved to try and embarrass her into ceasing her observation of them.

Several days pass with the curtain twitcher apparently watching more frequently.
“I’m getting annoyed now, Betty, why won’t she leave us alone? I’m going to teach her who’s in charge here alright.”

Evening turns to night and Sonny wraps himself in all his black clothes, with a black woolly hat pulled down to his eyes. He creeps through a hole in the fence and crosses the road, watching all the time for people and traffic. It’s so quiet, it must be a Sunday, he thinks to himself. He was never good with which day of the week it was, even at the peak of his life. Once across the road, sneaking through the gap in her garden railings was simple. Sonny checks all the windows for onlookers and finds the coast to be clear. He proceeds to tear up every plant in the front garden, throwing them up in the air like a madman. Five minutes later the lawn is scattered with broken plants and small shrubs. Sonny creeps out and returns home without Betty noticing.

The following morning Sonny checks for evidence of whether his payback had worked, but the curtain twitching is still happening.

A few months of near normal life pass before their next encounter with authorities.

Seated on the park bench, enjoying the last of the autumn sun. “Watch out Betty. here they come again. The bloody do-gooders from the High Street.”

“Hello Sonny. We’ve come to check you are both ok. Are you?” asks the kind lady in the black uniform. “A lady across the road wanted us to check on you again.”

“She’s watching us all the time. Every time I look, she’s poking through her curtains!”

“She does worry about you and wants to make sure you are both ok. She is quite ill, you know,” says the lady, pulling out a pad from the breast pocket of her tight jacket. Her bulging uniform may have fitted her about two stones ago.

“We had no idea she was ill. All I know is she seems to watch us all the time and hasn’t been out lately. We want people to leave us alone.”

“Sonny, I need to take some details from you, please, if you don’t mind. We can get some help for you once we have you on our system.”

“We don’t want to be on any system. Especially yours.”

“You look like you could do with some clothes. Betty looks ok with her nice pink jacket and lovely brown coat, but unfortunately, you could do with a tidy up,” says the lady as she locks eyes with Sonny.

After a long pause, Sonny shrugs his shoulders. “What have we got to lose?” He gives the lady their details and heads back home for the night. She promises to come back in the next few days with some clothes that may fit him.

True to her word, the lady turns up with a selection of outfits for Sonny which fit and look the part.

A few days later, smartly dressed and seated at their usual park bench. The police arrive and ask them to move on again, following fresh complaints from a neighbour. Sonny is having none of it and stands his ground. They are both taken into custody and held overnight. With nothing to charge the pair with, the police let them out the following morning.

“Right, gloves are off now Betty, I’ve had enough of this harassment. I’m going to make that woman sorry she ever crossed me.”

Sonny spent the next few days collecting dog poo from the doggie bins in the park. It’s a messy job, but he manages to mix it all with some water in an old saucepan. Once he’s assembled it in the pan, nice and slimy, he leaves it outside. It’s far too smelly to bring into their home.

Under the cover of darkness, he creeps out, crosses the road with the smelly payload. He didn’t even wake Betty, or tell her anything of his plan. He arrives at the nosy ladies house and sneaks up the path. He empties the whole lot through the letterbox. The smell sends him over the edge and he almost pukes. Managing to resist, he returns home, throwing the saucepan in a nearby hedge. There is no way he ever wants them to eat out of that again.

The following morning Sonny and Betty awake to the sound of sirens. Two ambulances and three police cars arrive. Sonny tweaks open the curtains so as not to attract attention. The medics wheel a lady out of the house with her legs strapped together. She is wearing a nurses uniform with a large brown stain up the side. They load her into one of the ambulances and it wails down the road.

“Oh, looks like she slipped over Betty.”

A few police officers knock on neighbouring doors asking questions. One of the ambulances pulls away and the activity subsides. Sonny and Betty get up and go out. They stretch their legs around the park a little before sitting on their usual bench. Sonny feels a bit bad for the nurse, because she wasn’t the problem. It was the nosy lady he was after.

“More activity at the house, look Betty,” says Sonny as a few police officers leave, followed by a stretcher. “Look, there’s someone on there.”

The ambulance staff load the stretcher into the back which appears to have a body on it. The clue is the blankets pulled over the head.

“Quick Betty, come with me. We have to get out of here. I’m sure I killed her last night.”

Betty looks at Sonny as if he is nuts. The pair go home, collect a few items into two supermarket bags for life and disappear into the city.

“We have to lay low for a few days and it will all blow over.”

Sonny finds some cardboard and makes them a little home in a large laurel bush on the edge of the common. He raids some nearby litter bins for the plastic to make it watertight.

“See, I knew we’d get lucky. I found a couple of sarnies. We’ve got a lovely location. Almost like our old home. Not quite though,” Sonny says as they snuggle down for the night.

A few days pass and the pressure playing on Sonny’s mind is so bad, he has to discuss it with Betty. Not that she is much good with decisions, she’s a good listener though and that is often enough.

“Betty, I’m going to hand myself in. I know I killed that lady, I’m sure of it and I deserve the punishment. I was only trying to get even for all the harassment she caused us over the years.”

The pair walk to the local police station and approach the front desk.

“Morning. Can I help you?” says the clerk.

“I’ve come to hand myself in. I killed that lady on Park Road last week.”

“What lady, exactly, was that?”

“She lives at number twenty six. Lived, sorry.”

“Are you Sonny Croft?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“They’re looking for you.”

“I know, that’s why I am handing myself in.”

“Wait over there,” says the clerk, pointing to a row of chairs.

The morning at the police station continues as normal. The large metal door that leads into the offices keeps buzzing and releasing. Officers come and go and each time Sonny thinks they are coming for him. Two hours have passed when a smart looking gentleman turns up at the counter. The clerk points to Sonny and Betty.

“Oops, here we go Betty. Plain clothes are after us.”

The gentleman walks over and takes a seat.

“Sonny Croft? I am Mr Catchpole.”

“Yes Mr Catchpole,” Sonny nods.

“I am here to talk to you about the late Mrs Edna Price. I understand you have known each other for some years.”

“Yes Mr Catchpole, it was me.”

“Unfortunately, I am not sure if you know, she passed away last week.”

“Yes Mr Catchpole, like I said, it was me.”

“We’ve established it is you, let’s move on. You meet the description anyway,” says Mr Catchpole as he pulls out an old polaroid photograph, taken from Mrs Price’s window. It looks like it was three years ago at least because Julie is on it.

Sonny sits back and tries to capture his thoughts which are racing at a hundred miles an hour. Doesn’t this idiot realise I am confessing? Why is he not listening to me?

“May I ask Sonny, do you read?” Mr Catchpole takes a white envelope from his leather bound file. He pauses and looks at the front of it before handing it over. On the front it says To Sonny Croft, Across the road.

Sonny opens the handwritten letter. Tears run down his face as he reads it.

Dear Sonny

I only learned your name when you kindly gave it to the Salvation Army lady. I have been trying to get your details for a few years now, hence the visits you have been getting.

Six months ago they diagnosed me with an aggressive form of cancer, but I don’t want to go into that here. If you are reading this, then I have passed into the next world.

Since you moved here, I have watched you in your makeshift cardboard house. I worried about you living in the electricity enclosure beside the park. They are dangerous places. I am glad you returned after each time the electricity company evicted you.

I was sad when your wife passed away a few years ago. I am sorry that I don’t know her name and I never had the courage to come and meet you all. I hope you enjoy the photograph I sent with this letter. I took quite a few and created a little album.

Your presence always made me feel safer, with all that vandalism going on. I often checked to make sure you were alright as I didn’t want you two to get attacked. I didn’t care what they did to my garden, it was you two I was concerned about.

You will never know how much joy I had to see you put the pink coat on your lovely little French Poodle. I ordered it online and was hoping you would collect it from the park fence. I’m told her name is Betty, forgive me if I am wrong.

I often deposited sandwiches in the bins in the hope you would find them. My carers have been helping me since I have been housebound. It was a pleasure to sit and watch you both eating them on the bench opposite.

I don’t want you to be homeless anymore and I have left my house, my savings and all my belongings to you. I hope that goes some way to make up for my lack of action in my life. I should have helped you all long ago.

Live long, enjoy my home and all it has to offer.

With love
Edna Price

Sonny wipes the tears away and looks at Mr Catchpole.

“Come on Sonny, we need to get you and Betty to your new home. We have a lot of arrangements to make.”

The beginning.

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Bio:

Richard is an IT developer working for a large Norwich based insurance company and has been writing off and on for around ten years. More recently, he’s been honing his craft daily so he can finish three ongoing novel projects. He has written eight short stories on differing themes. His novel projects are one dystopian, a crime thriller and a 19th century novel.

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