What do you want from me?

Régine, originally from France, has a passion for the word and has written several poems and flash fiction. She is a linguist, a language teacher and lives in West Sussex.

Régine, who writes under the name of Andrée Roby, published her first novella called "Double Vision" in January 2019. It was voted "Book of the month for April 2019" by the publisher Tredition.  She is currently writing a sequel called "Failed Vision".

“Oh no! There it goes again…”

This repetitive “what do you want from me?” that I hear through the thin walls of my flat…  Since moving in 6 months ago, I kept hearing the woman next door saying “what do you want from me?” on a regular basis. Although it was muffled, she sounded quite distressed at times. What was going on in that flat?  Was she having an argument with her husband? I was baffled because when I saw the young couple in the street, they seemed happy and loving so what was causing their recurring argument indoors and her distress?

I did not want to be nosy but my mind was going round and round imagining all kinds of possibilities.  Was he trying to get money from her? Was he unhappy with the way she kept the flat? I was even thinking; “what does her husband want her to do? He is putting strange demands on her she is not happy with?  Do they have a secret room next to mine?”  But maybe I had read “Fifty Shades of Grey” too many times in the last year!

Perhaps I should go and introduce myself and see what information I could gather. But then again, she would be unlikely to say “what do you want from me?” in my presence!  She seemed well mannered so I suspected that there would be no argument in front of the next door neighbour.  It did surprise me a bit though that I never seem to hear his answers or whatever he had said to prompt the now familiar outburst “what do you want from me?”

Still, this was driving me crazy and I needed to get to the bottom of this distressing and unusual situation.  I had to find out what was going on one way or another.  I decided that next time I saw them in the street, I would go up to them, strike up a conversation and see what I could glean from very subtle questioning.   I was beginning to feel like a detective trying to crack a case and I was partly apprehensive, partly excited to finally get a chance to discover their “secret”!

I had this new strategy in my mind and was going to act on it when I suddenly realised that there was silence next door.  Come to think of it, I had not heard any outburst since the day before yesterday.  Well, this was something.  Pheww! Peace at last.  But of course, I started to worry?  Had anything happened to her?  Had he harmed her in any way?  Had the argument taken untold proportions? My head was spinning with even more elaborate possibilities than before.  I was so confused and stressed about it that I had to go and get some fresh air.

I walked to the high street and guess who I saw.  Her! From next door! Relief, she was alive…  She was coming out of the local corner shop, head down, crying! My god, perhaps something serious had happened, after all, something bad enough to make her cry in the street?  I stopped and introduced myself.  She looked up, very upset so I asked her “Are you ok?”
She answered, “No, not really our beloved parrot died a couple of days ago!”
 “I am so sorry”, I said to her, “I did not realise you had a parrot”.

“Oh really”, said my neighbour, “you must have heard it… his favourite sentence was “what do you want from me?””