Rumour has it that Kelly and his missus left early this morning. Crack of dawn job, so nobody actually saw them leave, but their place looks empty, no lights, and a for sale sign instead of their kids' toys on the lawn.

So much for Rob 'they'll have to carry me out in a box' Kelly; never did like him much, and the wife had a face like thunder, real mean-lipped woman, so no great loss.

I had words with them both last week: half eleven and the TV blasting out, no respect, some folk, but I think I put the fear of God into the big lump!

Curtains are already twitching every time a van drives up the road. New neighbours tend to bring out the worst in us around here; thought I was going to get lynched myself when I first brought my bike to the new house.

'There goes the neighbourhood' written beneath the nods and half-smiles.

But that was – jeez – going on for sixty years next April!

I've seen them come, I've happily seen 'em go too; think I'll be here as long as the old place is standing.

'Part of the bloody brickwork!" my dear wife used to say, back when she was still speaking that is. Haven't had so much as a grunt from her for years now.

She just mopes about, that heartbreaking sadness replacing the beautiful young woman I still see when I close my eyes.

Nope, not a word for over two years now, not since I took the motorcycle out (very much against doctor's orders, bloody quack, what did he know about a biker's needs?)

Two years, seven neighbours, anyone would think they'd seen a bloody ghost!

Freewayriding

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