It's half past eight and I was in desperately need of a cupper, switching on the kettle I couldn't help but grin as I recall that mornings antics. First came Julie hysteria because her chin had sprouted a tiny spot. "No way would she go to school looked like a leper," she informed me. I choose to ignore her defiant tone, I knew from experience there's no rationalizing with a upset nine year old, especially one who's is as headstrong has my daughter. Luckily all was rectified and peace restored with my prompt use of blemish cream. Typically the calm wasn't to last ,just minutes later world war three broke out with brothers Jimmy and James teasing her, they reckoned all her fuss was over some boy. School mornings in our house are pure theatre a mixture of comedy and drama and I'm the stage manager directing without the use of a script. The challenge of getting three prepubescent horrors fed, dressed and correctly equipped in time to catch the bus requires the skills of a four star general. Silently congratulating myself on once again achieving this mammoth feat I finished making my cupper. I'd just sat down to drink it when ‘Maria my scatty but glamorous neighbour rushed into my kitchen from next door. I knew at once she'd something big to tell. Her eagerness to off load was not indicated by the fact she was still in silk pyjamas, that wasn't unusually, she was rarely to be seen properly dressed before lunchtime, what was unusually about her and cried out to her haste in coming around was her complete lack of make up, normally she won't even answer the door to the milkman without her war paint on I thought to use my husbands terminology. "Have you read the news"? She gushed while at the same time thrusting a beautifully manicured hand under my nose, totally puzzled I noticed the newspaper that the hand tightly clutched. My attention was brought back to her by the next question "Well what do you think"?I answer, "no I' haven't read or heard anything and I hadn't the foggiest idea what your on about. As an explanation she hands over the paper which had been folded back at page four, Big black headlines followed by the main story clearly showing the reason for all the excitement. Even after I read the article twice I still have difficulty believing what's written. Maria barks, she's obviously fed up with not receiving my immediate attention, "Well! What do you think"? A smug grin appeared on both our faces when in unison we answer "serves her right stuck up cow". Looking away I again concentrate on the paper and its subject matter. Reading it for a third time I am able to visualize the culprit Mrs Bucket (my nemesis). Mrs Bucket wasn't her real name of course just the nickname she'd earned because of her unjustified superior attitude to us mere mortals. Slightly angry my mind starts to recall our first meeting and the reception she'd given me. It happened five years agojust days after her and husband had moved in. It being a lovely summers day I was sitting in the front garden when she walks over, assuming she was going to introduce herself I stood up ready to greet, only to find I was completely wrong. She instead pointed to where our old but much loved battered car stood and loudly declared that if we were the owners would please park it somewhere out of sight so it wouldn't devalued The Close totally stunned I couldn't think how to reply. I just stood mouth a gasp while she stood peering over the tops of black, heavy rimmed glasses which happen to be bifocals so there shouldn‘t have been any reason to look over their top. I become certain it was a deliberate signal to us that it was her view we were below her in status. When she received no reply she turned around and made her way home. Through time and the gossip grapevine I soon learnt about some of her other absurdities such as her vanity stating she was a natural blond even through you could see her natural dark roots appearing. She made herself a laughing stock by leading people to believe that she was employed as a secretary when in fact it latter turned out she was a cleaner, not that it made any difference to anyone what her job was. Nearly everyone in The Close soon learnt it was best to give her a wide berth. There was only one person prepared to put up with Mrs Bucket constant bragging and innuendoes concerning her own and other peoples wealth ,breeding , style or whatever she could think about at the time. Lonely and nervous Nancy who found making friends hard and conversation even harder so it suited her fine that all Doris Hartley alias Mrs Bucket required from her was the ability to listen extensionally and nod in agreement now and again and you can bet Doris took full advantage. Dismissing that line of thought I turn my focus back to the bold headline reading again Local cleaner charged with the attempted murder of rich mother in law. Even through it's in front of me written clearly for all to see its still hard to comprehend the reasons that makes someone, plan and carry out the systematic poisoning of another human being just to gain access to their money. The paper told how when Doris had married David she was under the assumption he was rich only to find out that the everything actually belonged to his elderly mother who disliked Doris so much she'd promised to change her will and leave everything to the R.S.P.C.A. No way was Doris ever going to allow that to happen so she set about slowly poisoning the old women. She was cleaver enough, Using the fact that her mother in law was a diabetic she spiking specially prepared chocolates with insulin so her death would appear has a accidental overdose. One of the most surprising thing that came from the article was it named Nancy as the one who alerted the police to the deadly plan after secretly catching Doris preparing the chocolates.

Six month latter Doris Hartley alias Mrs Bucket stood in the court dock. I bet you can't guess who was there to watch as sentence was served. Yes of course I was there but more importantly so was Nancy along with David's mother with whom she'd made firm friends. When I bumped into them afterwards I couldn' help but comment on the beautiful ring that shone on Nancy's finger. Yes you have guessed it the ordeal had in someway brought David and shy Nancy together.