neighbours revisited

My downstairs neighbours (as whinged about in my last post) have been making their presence felt again.  I was rudely awakened past midnight one night last week by the now-familiar bang on my front door followed by the sound of little feet pounding back down the stairs.  I furiously bounced out of bed, threw on my dressing gown and flung open my front door, intending to give the parents A Piece of My Mind.  I was stopped in my tracks, though, by the sound of voices in the hallway below.  Peering over the bannister I saw Ground Floor Neighbour (who lives directly below Mister, Missus and Young Child) talking to Missus.

Ground Floor Neighbour is a gentle, softly spoken young psychiatrist.  In the six years I have known him, I have never heard him say a harsh - or indeed loud - word.  He had clearly been pushed to his limit by Young Child that night as he told Missus exactly how he felt. Missus, to give her her due, said that she would stop Young Child using the stairs and hallways as her treadmill - and she has.  Young Child still thunders up and down the hall in their own flat, and screams for about 85% of the time she is awake (she's doing both now, actually, at 10.25 at night) but at least we now all know we won't be startled out of 5 years' growth by her banging on doors.