When you hear the new neighbors before you see them and other incidentals…
In a quaint English town of Totteridge one can find a kind of mini utopia. Well maintained schools, restaurants shops and picturesque rose trees one thinks they are in heaven, mind you heaven can set you back a million pounds, but it’s worth it right?
Well according to the locals suddenly the scene has gone haywire and they are none too happy about it. Thinking they were buying into idyllic communities the town is now finding it self having to re adjust to the Connors family- an Irish traveling family consisting of father John, mother Serena and of course their noisy, in fact very noisy seven kids.
How did the Connors suddenly find themselves in this wonderful idyllic town you may wonder? Well, that’s because the Barnett council in it’s desperate attempts to quell housing shortages for council tenants – tenants that usually come from disadvantaged socio/economic backgrounds – has been urging private landlords for a pretty fee to take on these ‘new’ tenants to the consternation of locals.
In a town where the locals are used to lots of peace and quiet they are suddenly not getting that anymore, let’s say they are getting quite the opposite, but 7 kids will be kids right?
Known for their anti social behavior and less than diplomatic stance on public discourse the Connors have suddenly found themselves being vehemently despised. One could argue that many are disgusted that they get to live for free in homes that might otherwise cost 2400 pounds a month to live, others might argue it’s the sight of them in certain matters of undress and ‘vulgar’ display which causes them unease.
The Kaye family who happen to live directly next door to the Connors were somewhat shocked to hear that the Connors don’t understand what the fuss is about.
Hannah Kaye had this to say-
“I couldn’t believe my ears. I felt like shouting back: “You’ve done nothing wrong? Swearing at us, spitting at us, throwing sacks of rotten food into our garden, letting your excrement spill from your drains all over our driveway, screaming abuse at my 11-year-old son whenever he leaves the house, shooting at him with an airgun, taking photographs of us in our garden, intimidating us, shouting at each other at all hours of the day and night so that we can’t sleep, making us feel like prisoners in our own home. You call that doing nothing wrong? What planet are you from?”
In any event life goes on somewhat for this quaint English town of Totteridge. Victim of snobbery, zealous over reaction to a new kind of tenant or just a bit too much spitting on the pretty rosebusehes…?